“The System is the higher power that governs everything that has to do with levels and Status sheets,” Camille began. “Not much is known about its history or how it came to be, but what we do know is that its presence is absolute among all civilized species. Monsters do not have levels, though they have other ways to accrue power over their lives.”
“How about goblins, though? They look sapient, but they didn't have levels when I killed them,” I said.
“Goblins are sapient, but they do not qualify as a ‘civilized’ species. Nobody knows the System's criteria for a civilized species, but scholars theorize that the goblins' feral instincts are to blame. They may have their own society and language, but goblins are slaves to their beastly nature.”
Sounds about right. The damn fuckers tried to gut me the moment I met them, even when I tried diplomacy. Bloodthirsty bastards.
“There are many facets to the System, as well as unique interactions depending on circumstances and the species of the person. But we'll only focus on the vital information to save time,” Camille said. “I will assume that you've had no formal education, so I will go over the basics. If you are already knowledgeable about it, just say it.”
She began with the fundamentals: levels. Everybody had levels, and it was representative of a person's power. Obviously, the higher the level, the more power an individual has. But this power was not limited to physical strength.
According to Camille, the benefits gained from leveling up depended on what a person did to obtain that level. For instance, a buff guy like me who always did physical activity like crushing skulls and ripping out monster tongues would naturally develop a more robust body as I leveled up from killing. But for people like scholars, who constantly studied and pored over books, their level-ups would instead improve their mental capacities.
And that was one more important thing: level-ups didn't simply come from killing things. Activities that developed a person in any way gave experience, hence why I gained experience from getting my first job as a Constable.
However, there were exceptions to the rule, and that brought us to the topic of Classes.
“Classes have a heavy influence on how a person gains experience,” Camille explained. “A warrior would gain more experience from fighting than tailoring clothes, and the opposite is true for tailors. In rare cases, a Class may have a condition where the individual can only level up from doing a particular activity and receive no experience from anything else, though that is usually limited to the more esoteric Classes.”
Huh, I wonder what the specifics of my Class were. So far, I gained most of my experience from killing stuff, and the only other instance I gained experience out of combat was from getting my first job. Does that mean I wasn't limited to simply leveling up from combat? That was good news, then.
“Classes are gained at level 10, and then they evolve at levels 25, 50, and 75,” Camille continued. “People who reach level 25 are called Elites, those at 50 are Masters, and at 75, they are called Lords.”
“How about level 100? What do you call them?” I asked.
“They are called Demigods, though that term is rarely mentioned,” Camille replied. “The last time somebody reached level 100 is mentioned only in the oldest historical records, and their veracity is dubious.”
Demigods, eh? If there are Demigods, then doesn't that mean they could become Gods by leveling up some more? I was willing to bet my left nut that Skorm the Fucker reached his godhood by killing everybody he saw.
“How about you? What level are you?” I asked.
“It is taboo to ask a person's level,” Camille chided, though she didn't seem too offended. “The most you could ask a person regarding their levels is their Class tier. In my case, I am in the Master-tier.”
My eyebrows raised at that. No wonder she could slice me so easily in our spars. And to think that I barged into her office earlier ready to throw down. I swear my stupidity is gonna be the end of me one of these days.
Now that I think about it, every assassin that came my way had been Elites. No wonder they could stab me so easily despite my Class supposedly being a durable one, and I bet they had specialized Skills that made their attacks pierce through defenses easily. The only time they failed to penetrate my defenses was when I used Hard as Fuck.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Dammit, I should've picked that Class Skill that reduced the damage of any attack I didn't know about. Blood Bag was fucking trash. Then again, it did save me from the assassination last night by helping me flush out the toxins from my blood bloodstream regen-inhibiting poison almost ended me.
Camille continued with her discussion. “Aside from Class Evolutions, another noteworthy piece of information is the power of a Class. The System does not indicate the power of a Class when you are presented with the choices, but make no mistake, Classes are not created equal. Some are more powerful than others, hence why a proper deliberation is advised when an individual reaches their Class selection. Some delay choosing their Classes in hopes of unlocking a more powerful one, while some even go the lengths of changing their Classes at a World Crystal if they unlock a powerful one, though changing Classes is usually ill-advised.”
I recalled my Class selection process. I chose my Class right after fighting a massive bear to the death with my guts hanging out and adrenaline racing through my body. It was probably the worst time to make a decision that would permanently decide how my life would go, but I did so. Heck, it didn't even take me more than five minutes.
Did that make me stupid? Yes. Yes it did. If Ma was here, she'd be whacking me over the head right now. Well, doesn't matter, my Class was awesome anyway.
“Why is it not recommended to change Classes? I asked. “What if I unlocked a much more powerful Class choice that outshined my current one?”
“It depends. Everything has to do with how Class Skills are acquired,” Camille answered. “Remember how you can only get Class Skills every five levels? That means you can only acquire a limited number of Class Skills in your lifetime, and the consensus is that specialization is the best way to become powerful. In theory, you can only get 19 Class Skills if you reach level 100, and obviously, that number will be lower in reality. The best case scenario is if all your Skills belong to the same Class to ensure that they synergize with each other. However, if you change your Class, it is uncertain whether your new Class Skills would synergize with your old ones. Take note, synergizing Skills are almost always the best way to obtain power because they provide much more value than a simple sum of their parts. So unless a truly powerful Class that outshines your own by a large margin comes along, changing your Class is ill-advised.”
That was a valuable piece of information. If I didn't learn about it, I had a hunch that my stupid future self would willingly change his Class for something that sounded badass, like Eradicator or World Destroyer or some shit like that.
As for the topic of Skills, Camille repeated what she already told me yesterday, where Skills had tiers that could be upgraded every time they were leveled up ten times. She also told me the same thing that Lance did, where I should always choose Class Skills over General Skills at every opportunity.
Finally, Camille arrived at the last aspect of the Status sheet. “Lastly, we have the Accolades. This refers to any deed you have committed that the Gods deem worthy of their recognition. They are notoriously difficult to obtain as the Gods are not easily pleased, but the perks they give are always worth the effort to get them. Only the truly powerful and special have Accolades, so if you meet one visiting my city, make sure you are on your best behavior.”
I was almost tempted to tell Camille that I had two Accolades and that she should start behaving respectfully to me from now on, but I wasn't suicidal. She might go ahead and chop my head off for good if she learns that I'm a Champion of the God of Carnage.
Camille went on to discuss other general knowledge in the Empire, and when lunchtime finally came around, I was on the verge of losing to my drowsiness. The boredom of listening to a lecture for several hours straight was gruesome, and only the fact that my time was being paid kept me awake.
“That should wrap up our General Education lessons for today,” Camille finally said. “Before you have your lunch, we're going to have a quiz. Get a sheet of paper and a pen. If you fail, the only food you are allowed to eat is Big Mama's cooking.”
“What?! You fu—”
The unfairness of it all was astounding, and as motivated as I was to pass the quiz just to avoid eating Big Mama's cooking, Camille didn't show mercy. She asked questions about topics that she knew I wasn't listening in, and by the end, a City Hall staff entered the office carrying a tray of food.
“Delivery from Big Mama, Governor,” the staff said as he placed a huge bowl of dull white gruel, black bread that looked harder than a rock, a generous serving of assorted fried mystery meat, and a pitcher of an unknown green liquid. Before withdrawing, the staff gave me a look of pity.
“This is workplace harassment!” I shouted as the hot gruel bubbled menacingly.
“This is part of your training,” Camille said with a small smile. “Next time, make sure to listen to my lessons well. No Constable of mine will be known as a buffoon.”
With that, Camille left me alone in the office. Damn slave driver.
I tried a spoonful of Big Mama's gruel, and just like last time, it was salty as hell. If not for my regeneration, I'd start worrying about my kidneys. The fried mystery meat was a new one, though, so I tried it eagerly in hopes of removing the salty taste from the gruel.
It turned out the fried mystery meat was even worse. The meat itself tasted extremely pungent and reminiscent of vegetables just about to spoil, and if not for the fried batter taking off some of the vile taste, I would've started throwing up.
“I swear I'm gonna have my revenge on that bitch someday,” I muttered to myself as I resolved myself to finish the food.