Having just awoken from my forced slumber, I hear the muffled voices of those around me. I lift my head to look in the direction of the voices, and I see four humanoid silhouettes. My being in a dazed state doesn't help me distinguish between them, but I'll probably put the pieces together.

I attempt to move but am restricted not by paralysis, but handcuffs. As I am lying flat on my back, it would be incredibly hard to get on my feet without the use of my hands. I can still feel my mana pulsing through my body, so I don't think I'll have a problem casting spells. I do, however, want to wait this out first, as I don't know enough about the situation.

I wiggle around, feeling my stiff muscles and aching bones pulsating with every movement. This isn't comfortable, but it's definitely bearable.

My wiggles seemingly alerted my captors, as they all looked in my direction shortly after.

The four proceeded closer towards me, all of them walking casually and uncarefully, all except one. As my vision was quickly clearing, I could make a few details out.

The one on the far left was a teen who looked about ready to go to bed with his baggy t-shirt and pajama pants. He had a shortsword that looked to have come from a goblin.

The one next to him was an angry-looking woman in a blood-stained tank-top. Her jeans were nearly as bloody as the tank top, but with rips that I don't think were there before she bought them. She looked to be holding a kobold quality dagger.

The next man in line had a hoodie with the name of a college I didn't know on it, as well as a simple pair of jeans. He was smiling as he walked forward with blood smeared in a smile on his face, obviously trying to impersonate a certain DC villain. He held a kitchen knife, drenched in blood.

The last man walked in uniform with caution. He appeared like an ordinary office worker with his business casuals, but his demeanor said otherwise. He carried himself like a trained professional. Probably a member of the military, or more likely a police officer, as the handcuffs I am currently bound by had to come from somewhere, and I know for a fact we don't sell them. He did not appear to be carrying a weapon, but a guy like him wouldn't go without one. He's probably hiding it somewhere on his person.

The only other information I can discern at the moment is that we are surrounded by, you guessed it. Shelves.

Once the group made it about 10 feet away, the cautious man stopped, the others continuing on. At about 3 feet away, the woman and tired guy stopped. The guy with the kitchen knife and bloodied face didn't stop until he was right in my face.

The man who was currently deep in my personal space then spoke.

"Helloooo~! Now that you've finally woken up, I have to ask something," an obnoxious voice stated. "How'd it feel when Lynn kicked your ass?~"

I seriously considered burning him alive right where he stood but decided against it when I saw the woman, now identified as Lynn, get involved.

"Stop fucking around Oswald. We don't have time for your games. We need to make sure he isn't a..." She paused. "-a 'PKer?'"

A PKer? Like a Player Killer in a game? Where is she going with this?

"Yeah, yeah. I know," Oswald said. "But do we really have to? I mean...look at him! He can't be any stronger than level 0 if he got taken out in one shot like you said!~"

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Lynn seemed to glare at the man with murderous intent until the cautious man moved forward if only a few feet closer.

"Do I need to come over there?" The man yelled over.

"Oh no, I don't think that will be necessary for now!~" Oswald answered. "We are just having a bit of friendly banter! We'll be done in a moment!"

The jokester suddenly turned back to me with a seriousness I didn't know he had.

"So...back on topic I guess..." Oswald continued. "I'll need you to tell me your level, skills, titles, etc. It would be in all of our best interests if you didn't make this any harder than it has to be."

So that's what this is about. I have to say, I'm impressed it took this long to find people smart enough to ask these questions.

"Not even going to ask me my name first?" I ask.

The man's serious facade instantly broke.

"Ahaha! You're right. I should have asked first huh?" Oswald asked. "So, buddy, what's your name?"

"Jacob," I stated. "And your name is-"

"You can call me Ozzy!~" The man blurted out.

"...I'm not calling you that." I refused.

"Aww..." He cried.

"About my level, skills, and titles..." I continue. "How about higher than yours, not telling, and none of your business?"

The look on Oswald's face darkened to one of intense anger for a second until it dissolved into nothing more than a shit-eating grin.

"I like him." He stated.

This guy is crazier than me, and that's saying something because I have a title that confirms it as an effect.

The four looked at me for a moment before the woman known as Lynn stepped forward, looking me in the eyes.

"I'm Lynn. I'm level 5, and my class is {Assassin}. I have three skills, all of which give me infinitely many ways to kick your ass, and I have a single title that tells me just how good at kicking ass I am."

The girl pointed to me.

"Now it's your turn."

Damn.

I decided to play along.

"I'm Jacob, as you know, and I'm level 6, with my class being something you don't have the right to know. I have three skills, just like you, but they are probably far less impressive. I have more than one title that tells me just how good I am at...certain things."

The woman looked at me with anger in her eyes before she was politely pushed to the side by the cautious man.

He looked me dead in the eye, left hand on his hip.

He stared at me for longer than I would have liked before the man known as Oswald spoke up.

"Do you two have like...a thing...or something?"

The man and I both look towards him and Oswald, in turn, smiles a toothy grin.

The man looks back at me with far less contempt than before and speaks.

"You've said as much as you are willing." He stated. "I suppose it's my turn."

He stepped back.

"I am Lt. Lawrence Fishburghe, but you may call me Lawrence," He said. "I am level 6. My class is {Warden}, and my only skill is {Guardian}. This skill increases my Strength when I am surrounded by allies, and allows said allies to heal quicker when they are in its radius. I have two titles. They are [Leader] and [Survivor]. Both of these titles increase my survivability in one way or another, but I believe you can put the pieces together."

Interesting.

"What about those two?" I pointed to Oswald and the man in pajamas.

Lawrence looked back.

"They probably won't tell you anything. They won't even tell us anything aside from the basics of how they want to be involved. From what I've gathered, Oswald there likes to rush in and slash at things with his knife. It isn't exactly conventional, but it works well enough." He explained.

"That guy though..."

Lawrence paused.

"We haven't really seen him do much of anything. We were fighting against a group of four monsters one time, and we had each taken one. Nobody was exactly blessed with the chance to study his fighting style, as when we looked back at him, he was just standing over the monster's corpse, looking as bored as usual. He's an enigma."

"That isn't completely terrifying," I said.

I looked at the so-called "enigma" and observe him. He seems to be asleep, yet he's standing up. Weird.

I look away, and almost immediately, a blue box fills my vision.

ALERT!

Lower level [Monster] is trying to identify you!

Identification failed.

I look back at the sleepwalking man and meet his eyes.

His eyes were dry and dull, yet gave off an intense feeling. It looked as if he hadn't slept in years.

The man closed his eyes again, but this time, his eyebrows furrowed, as if he was displeased.

That probably isn't normal.