Job or Combat?

The simple question hovered on a giant screen in front of my face, complete with a pointer. Each option could be highlighted to pull up a secondary list of choices.

I’d never been an ardent gamer back on Earth, yet even I couldn't contain the rush of excitement that accompanied rifling through the selections. It reminded me of the character creation screens from back in my childhood, with the sole exception that I wasn’t fiddling with a role-playing game this time.

I was fiddling with my life.

Whatever I chose here would follow me to the grave. And, if I botched it . . . Well, I had about a year to die anyway.

Hanno’s arguments in favor of specialists had piqued my curiosity, though the greater part of my interest lay in combat. Without a university degree back in Nigeria, I’d been forced to take on a variety of odd jobs. I’d worked myself to the bone trying to make ends meet and had gained an appreciation of craftsmanship in the process.

‘My slow days living as a barista in another world’ had a nice ring to it. But, Vizhima was a brutal place, and I wasn’t exactly a light novel protagonist. I scrolled through the blocks in the job section, regardless, in the hopes that I could unearth some hidden cheat.

Why were there so many jobs to choose from?

Mundane stuff like Teacher and Farmer unfurled alongside complex selections like Demagogue and Patron of the Arts. Further prodding with the pointer revealed a basic description for each.

The Tactician class gave me pause. Mostly, because of how awesome it sounded. My Legacy Quest involved gathering strong allies and employing them against an apocalypse.

Nothing in the quest description said I needed to lead those allies from the forefront. I could simply huddle in a command tent and throw wave after wave of minions at my problems.

Would the [System] consider it a success if I focused on micromanagement rather than fighting?

My best guess was, yes.

Did I want to risk my survival on the backs of other people? Ugh.

As far as world-ending events were concerned, and assuming I interpreted the term ‘apocalypse’ correctly, the strongest forces in Vizhima were sure to be at play. That included Heralds, Adamantiums, and everything else in between. Could I survive as a specialist in the face of overwhelming opposition?

Possibly. But, did I want to play on hard mode?

I consumed the info on Tactician and other interesting jobs, and then I shunted them aside to study the combat section of the list. Unlike the former, this section was populated by only thirteen options.

The first three on the list filled a single block titled Caster Classes. Warlock, Mage, and Shaman. Simple enough, I guess.

Casters were described as powerful rankers who extolled magic above all else. They fired their abilities as spells with a focus on wide-area damage. Consequently, their melee proficiency suffered for it.

The differences between the three classes seemed rudimentary—but, Warlocks fought without needing a magic focus, Mages required staffs or wands, and Shamans worked with totems which doubled as an effective way to shore up their weaknesses.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I liked the idea of being a magic caster. It seemed criminal to pass up the opportunity to become one after coming from a world where nothing of the sort existed. Snobbing the category was akin to getting the opportunity to dine in the finest restaurant in town only to leave after ordering a glass of water.

Mages tended to rock. But, maybe I should inspect other options.

The next block of three contained Rogue Classes: Assassin, Ranger, and Trickster. Considering my high Dexterity, this group practically begged to be picked. The accompanying text described Rogues as exceptionally skilled rankers, gifted in infiltration and single-target damage.

Tricksters leaned heavily into the espionage side of combat, while Assassins were unrivaled in melee DPS—my words, not the [System]'s. Rangers, like Mavari, provided death from a distance. And, all three struck a good balance between melee and magic, skills and abilities.

Compared to the Caster classes, this was one block I already had experience playing. But, did I want to commit?

The Fighter Classes made up the next set of four, and I almost swiped past in disinterest. Fighters were typically the safest choices in most RPGs, but I wasn’t about to give up magic to become a meathead.

The irregular number of classes stayed my hand, however. All other blocks contained sets of threes. The Fighter subgroup had four classes to its name: Warrior, Monk, and Samurai were easily recognizable, with Skirmisher rounding out the bunch.

Considered the masters of the battlefield, Fighters favored skills and melee over abilities and magic. Warriors seemed proficient in a wide variety of weapons, Monks mostly fought barehanded, Samurais wielded all types of katanas—was Japan a thing here?—and Skirmishers relied equally on Strength and Dexterity, what with the class’ focus on lengthy polearms.

Everyone and their mothers loved lengthy polearms—just not of this type.

The final group—the Hybrid Classes—boasted unique playstyles for indecisive rankers. Those rankers who desired something different or wished to access the better qualities of multiple categories.

Guardian seemed to be a cross between Caster and Fighter, best understood as a tank. Beast Rider incorporated elements from all the other blocks, with the added boon of a companion to provide mounted support. Shifter . . .

Hoh? Now, this was different.

The infobox provided no clarifying details on Shifter, save that a ranker abandoned most of their affinity privileges in exchange for the skills to manipulate their form.

What then to do?

Hanno had warned that I was better off relinquishing my affinity, and jobs were the only way to accomplish that. The Tactician specialist role promised to be helpful in the upcoming war with the goblins, but . . . I wanted personal power.

The Fighter Classes didn’t interest me, even though the fanboy in me stirred at the presence of Samurai. Hybriders looked more enticing—Beast Rider in particular, but I had too little to work with.

What kind of animal companion would I summon if I picked this option? The [System] described it as a random process based entirely on my experiences. Maybe, a lion? I was African, after all. Or a gazelle or something.

For that matter, were the Goblin Scouts Beast Riders?

Barring that choice, my preference oscillated between Caster and Rogue. Sure, the uncertainty in Beast Rider provided an element of excitement, but nothing beat the reliability of magic power or a dagger in hand.

In the end, a good build—like Nana had said—was one that achieved harmony between class and affinity. Other rankers would move on after classing to choose from a predetermined list of affinities. I was stuck with Fear.

In a way, my predicament proved to be both a boon and a curse. I couldn’t switch affinities. However, because I had the privilege of being attuned beforehand, I could select the best class to match.

That realization pretty much sealed my choice.

I scrolled back up and selected Assassin.