I took a deep breath as I slowly opened the door and stepped into the dark hallway. On either side of me, small candles flickered, providing the only source of light, and casting eerie shadows that made me second guess my decision. A chill ran down my spine, and I knew that there were hidden dangers lurking in the darkness. Despite that, I steeled my resolve. I had come this far, and I wasn’t going to fail now.

As I looked around the hallway, my Synesthesia kicked in, and the walls lit up with a variety of colours. The cold stone floor was illuminated in pale blues and greys while the wooden beams came alive in an earthy green. But most importantly, I could sense something else: a guard patrolling back and forth. Its presence was thick and menacing, a pine-made construct that moved silently on lubricated wheels, its outline illuminated by my altered vision in an ominous violet light.

I ducked into the shadows, activated Stealth, and held my breath, hoping it hadn’t noticed me. A deep-seated anxiety coursed through me as I watched its movements, the grinding of metal against stone echoing down the hallway. I caught a glimpse of its shining faceplate and dimly-glowing eyes—an artificial construct meant to keep out intruders.

My heart raced as I felt it draw nearer. The guard seemed to sense something in the air and stopped just short of where I was hiding. Its head swivelled back and forth, scanning the hallways for any sign of movement. Sweat beaded on my forehead as its sensors swept over me in a cold wave, searching for anything out of place.

The presence of the guard felt like a heavy weight on my chest. I knew that if it saw me before I was ready to be seen, it would be over for me. I stayed perfectly still until finally, after what felt like an eternity, the guard continued on its patrol. It moved away from me again, its metal treads leaving fading echoes.

Holding my breath, I waited in the shadows for the guard to pass before sprinting to the door at the far end of the hall. As I reached it, my heart sank when I realised it was locked. Without hesitation, I scrambled for my lock picks and quickly fumbled them into the keyhole. With a few clicks and twists of my wrist, I felt two tumblers fall into place and opened the door into a silent chamber beyond.

My eyes adjusted to the dim light as I stepped into the room. A few pieces of furniture were scattered around, but it was mostly empty. I spotted some chairs, a desk, and a handful of filing cabinets. The bookshelves on the walls were stacked high, but the contents were unclear in the darkness.

I took a deep breath. I knew the aroma of pine and oil that I needed to distinguish between the furniture and guards. But there was no smell of either in this room, leaving me both confused and relieved.

My gaze darted around the room, scanning the objects on the shelves and tables in an attempt to find what I had come for. After a few moments of fruitless searching, I activated Stealth and slid across the floor with silent steps to the only other door in the room.

I eyed the lock on the door in front of me, much more intricate than the one I had just come through. Eight tumblers meant serious business. I bit my lip and quickly set to work, using my tools to delicately manipulate each tumbler. After what felt like an eternity, I felt a satisfying click, and the door opened with a quiet creak. However, my moment of victory was cut short by a loud alarm that echoed off the walls as I stepped through.

I cursed loudly as the lanterns above flared to life, abruptly ending the scenario.

“Always check for traps!” Lopez barked from above as he leaned back on the chaise, sipping on a glass of wine. It was barely past morning, and he was already drinking. It made me worried for my future if this was what my Handler was really like.

When I looked at that wolfman I hardly recognized him. His thick beard had been replaced by a thin moustache and goatee, which was not the style in the Aulido Empire. Also gone was the crisp, clean military uniform and the weapons he once kept on him at all times. He now wore white silk shirts with frilly collars as well as cufflinks with pearl buttons. It was so different from what I experienced when we first met.

It softened all the hard edges he had during that first meeting that had led me through an adventure of a lifetime, culminating with us fleeing from a deadly agent of the Aulido Empire and me becoming a junior member of the Shadow Agency.

It had only been a couple months since we arrived at the estate Lopez called home in the Green Hills province in the country of Bueong. It was a continent away from Aulido and Rugir and their never-ending war, though because of what I did, the war may actually be ending soon. Travelling here was surprisingly fast. Lopez had paid for a portal to the coast, then just another month at sea and here we were. And as soon as we reached, my training started in earnest.

“I can’t disarm traps. I don’t have the skill,” I snapped back as my mind returned to the present and my frustration flared at failing once again.

My Handler gave me a contemptuous flick of his wrist and scoffed, “I know you don't have the skill. You never will if you don’t even bother to put in the effort. It was a simple trap. A quick snip of the wire and you would have been in.”

I gritted my teeth and growled in frustration. The basement of my Handler’s manor was expansive, much larger than the house above. Its many movable rooms and hallways twisted and turned into a true labyrinth that seemed to bring a new challenge every time I entered. And as the session drew to a close, I could feel the lecture looming: my Handler’s familiar words precisely enunciated before he slowly paced the room, scanning me with those cold eyes for any sign of disagreement or misunderstanding. The same lecture, as though I hadn’t heard it enough times before.

“An agent is fast. Not only must we think quickly, but we must also be prepared to act quickly. A lazy agent is a dead agent. First, we train our minds and then we train our bodies, and if possible, we train both together,” my Handler intoned. “You are cursed with Husky. This is not something that can be overcome despite what some may claim. It can only be adapted to and worked around. You must develop your agility, dexterity, and stamina. In addition, this training will help to build a little strength, toughness, and constitution. We will adjust your training once you have brought all of these up to an acceptable level.”

I shook my head and started to look for the exit to the maze, recalling that the speech wasn’t the only thing that had become routine. I also underwent the same training every day. Each morning, I'd wake before the sun to make food, and then I was ushered into a labyrinth of corridors with traps and guards lurking in the shadows. I had to sneak around, pick locks, and search for the object my Handler had asked me to find, all while desperately trying to avoid being caught. The afternoons were spent on intense physical training: lifting weights, sprints, obstacle courses, training with weapons, combat manoeuvres, and various exercises meant to improve my stats. In the evenings, I was required to expand my knowledge of languages and customs from around the world as well as study magical texts and develop my Mystic Skills. My Handler had given me a two-year timeline to achieve Intermediate Rank in both Linguistics and Sociolinguistics—a daunting task considering I had to learn several languages at once. To top it off, he hadn’t even specified what constituted an “acceptable” level of physical stats.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

After half an hour of crawling through the endless maze, I finally spotted the stairs that marked the exit.

Lopez sat up as I arrived at the top of the stairs and reached into the magical satchel he always carried with him. He rummaged through it unnecessarily; the satchel held a lot more than its size would indicate and would have given him anything he desired with just a thought. I found his ritualistic behaviour, meant to hide what the bag was capable of, to be tedious, yet I still understood his reasoning. It was another thing that he said I should begin doing as well.

With a satisfied look on his face, he pulled out a contraption of shaped glass and metal and handed them to me. “The reading glasses you requested,” he said with a smile.

I was exhausted, but the temptation of snatching the prized pair of glasses was too much. I put them on, fastening the wire hooks around my ears and blinking several times as my vision improved. Now, up close, I could almost see normally, but anything beyond a few metres remained blurred, and I couldn't help feeling disappointed. Still, it was better than the monocle I'd been making do with.

“Fine, don’t thank me. See if I care,” my Handler complained playfully.

“Thank you. I . . . I just . . . Thank you,” I stammered, feeling incredibly grateful for the glasses.

My Handler smiled gently. “You are welcome, apprentice. Now off with you. Your smell is very offensive. Be sure to wash thoroughly, and please, use the parfume I gave you. Oh, and only use the reading glasses when you’re reading. Otherwise, you risk stagnating your Synesthesia skill.”

I suppressed a shudder at the mention of the “parfume” he put in my bathroom. I think the actual word was “perfume,” but he seemed to relish in using the other name. I smiled forcefully and nodded, knowing I had no intention to use the smelly stuff.

I removed the glasses, folding them carefully and putting them into my magical satchel, not bothering with rummaging. It was the same satchel my Handler had given me when he put me on the course to becoming a Shadow Agent. He gave me a small look of disapproval but didn’t make a big deal of it.

The wolfman leaned back on his chair and smiled, sipping at more wine, more or less dismissing me until lunch, where I would be sent to the kitchen to prepare food for both of us. I didn’t mind this at all. It was nice that my Handler was still encouraging me to improve my Cooking skill.

Lunch was a simple affair of beast cutlet, fresh bread, and a lettuce salad. When we finished, we pushed our chairs back from the table and made our way to the training room. The wall was lined with swords, shields, bow and arrows, and other weapons. Rows of life-size wooden dummies stood in formation. A layer of padded mats covered the floor, laid out around a series of targets.

My Handler knew a lot about martial fighting, and he'd already tried teaching me Fencing, Archery, Kendo, which was a kind of Sword Fighting, or any one of a dozen or more martial skills. While I wasn’t expected to become a master at all of them, my Handler was trying to find the martial skills I had talent for. I already had Fighting and Knife Fighting at Intermediate Rank, but that was a fluke and only thanks to fighting through a lair that I was able to advance them that far. I didn’t really think I had a talent for either skill.

The tall wolfman, who had changed into a simple linen shirt and pants, cleared his throat, signalling the start of the session, “Grappling is different from the Common Fighting skill. Where the Fighting skill incorporates all aspects of combat with and without a weapon, Grappling is specific to combat without a weapon. Where Boxing is all about throwing punches, and Kickboxing is all about knee and elbow strikes, Grappling is all about gripping or seizing your opponent. And once you have your opponent, you can dislocate joints, break bones, or render them unconscious by cutting off blood flow to the brain. It is great for disabling without killing an opponent.”

I’d learned that my Handler didn’t enjoy questions and just remained silent as he continued.

“Come closer,” the wolfman ordered, his normally aloof expression becoming serious as he pointed to the ground just in front of him.

I nodded and stood where I was told.

“We’ll start with some simple holds. I’ll demonstrate it to you, and then you’ll try it on me. Understood?”

My Handler adjusted his grip on my wrist, his calloused hands gently but firmly tugging me into position. His arm felt like steel as he wrapped it around my wrist, locking my hand into place by curling his fingers round it. His other arm went over the top of mine, then under his bicep, applying just the right amount of pressure to make my wrist bend painfully.

I mimicked him, surprised at how quickly I could replicate the move. My movements were sure and confident as I followed his lead, not once misplacing my arm or scrambling the steps.

The wolfman seemed taken aback, eyebrows lifting as he tapped my shoulder after I completed the technique and clamped down on his wrist. "Nicely done," he said in admiration. "You got that quicker than I thought. We'll go a little faster now."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me into a lock, twisting my arm until I thought it would break. I had no choice but to submit, and he moved on to the leg lock, pressing down hard with his knee until my breathing was tight and shallow. I felt the chokehold around my throat, and suddenly I had no air left. I was forced to endure more and more variations of the skills until I thought I could take no more.

Then it was my turn to inflict some pain. My heart raced as I sprinted towards him. The movements felt invigorating and natural. I mirrored his every motion, applying the perfect pressure to each twist and hold. In that moment, it felt like I had unlocked something inside me for the first time and a smile spread across my face. We sparred until, finally, he lay in surrender on the mat, tapping my leg in defeat.

In the weeks that I had been training in martial arts, the weapons portion of it had seemed like an impossible task. My vision was blurred, and it seemed that I would never be able to make out the detail needed to truly use a weapon. A sword was useless unless I could see clearly past the end of it, and the same went for a spear. Of course, even if I could see them, most weapons just weren't a good fit for me as I struggled to find my place. Grappling, however, came naturally to me. I could not only see my opponent, but I could actually feel what they were doing, which made it much easier to perfect my technique.

Congratulations! You’ve learned to hold your opponent to either injure or subdue. The Rare Skill Grappling has been added to your skill list.

When I told the wolfman, he clicked his tongue irritably and mumbled, “Figures.”

“Why?” I asked, wondering if maybe it was something my mother, the badgerwoman that had taught my Handler, was also good at.

He must have seen something of my thoughts on my face because he shook his head as he answered, “No big reason. It’s not something passed down from your mother if that’s what you were thinking. I am just not very skilled with Grappling. It is also not very useful against most beasts. That said, it is extremely effective against other kin. I’ll teach you what I can, but don’t expect much. I would imagine you will develop it to a higher degree than I know it within a couple months.”

“So, this is just my natural talent in Fighting then?” I asked.

The wolfman nodded. “Yes, it seems like this is one of them. There will probably be others. We just need to find them. I still have a very long list of martial skills for you to try. However, now that we know where your talent lies, we can get you some related martial skills that will make you much more effective. But that is for later. I still have more Grappling to show you.”

The afternoon was a blur of muscle-wrenching locks, punishing takedowns, unforgiving pins, and desperate escapes. As the sweat ran down my forehead and my muscles screamed at me, I battled with my Handler in a desperate fight for dominance. I could almost feel the bones in my body creaking as I pushed myself beyond my limits, but I refused to give up. Every second of grappling was punishing and exhilarating, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.