The B-rank Tank agent was still doubled over, gasping for air, clutching his stomach, his face a sickly green. The desk woman stared, her face a mask of shock, her eyes wide with a dawning, horrified understanding. Theus, feeling a surge of vindication that warmed him more than any sun, nodded, a small, triumphant smile playing on his lips. "Can I go now?" he asked, a hint of impatience in his tone.
After a moment, the woman cleared her throat, her composure slowly returning, though a flicker of awe remained in her eyes. "Very well, Mr. Rocco," she managed, her voice a little strained, "You... you may proceed. Your assessment will be recorded. And... my apologies for the skepticism."
With no weapon in hand and no protective suit, Theus walked out of the tent. The students outside looked at him, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and confusion. He was unchanged, still in his regular clothes, while they were all in black training suits, armed with their designated weapons. Whispers followed him.
"Did he fail?"
"Why isn't he geared up?"
A tall, lean young man, with a pair of dual swords strapped to his back, approached Theus, his brow furrowed with concern. "Hey, did they fail you? You came out... empty-handed."
Theus chuckled, a genuine sound. "Nah. My class is a bit odd. It requires me to have no armor and no weapon."
The young man's eyes widened, then lit up with recognition. "Oh, ahhh… like those Taekwondo guys!" He pointed towards a small group of students further ahead, all wearing crisp white Taekwondo uniforms, their stances already exuding a disciplined power. "They're all unarmed combatants too. You should link up with them."
Theus smiled, a genuine one this time. Finally, someone who understood, someone he could relate to. "Yeah," he said, "exactly like those guys."
"Then you better team up with them," the young man said enthusiastically. "As much as I want to party with you, you seem interesting, but my party leader won't allow it. We're already set for the evaluations."
"That's fine," Theus replied, "we'll meet later instead." He offered a hand. "My name is Theus."
The young man shook his hand firmly, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Name's Marcus. Good luck out there, Theus. Hope to see you in the arena."
Theus nodded, then walked ahead, making his way towards the Taekwondo group. As he approached, he initially thought they might be a clique of rich friends, all coincidentally sharing the same class. But as he got closer, he saw they were equally tall, with broad shoulders and a lean, powerful build.
He greeted them. "Hello there."
One of them, a woman with sharp, intelligent eyes, grinned, a knowing glint in her gaze. "Hello! I assumed you also got kind of mugged by the lady at the checkpoint?"
Theus chuckled. "Yeah, kind of. She didn't believe me about the no-armor, no-weapon thing."
Another, a muscular man with a shaved head, asked, "So, uhhh… what class do you have?" Their expressions seemed to hold a hint of dread, as if awaiting a common or inconvenient class that would mean they weren't truly part of the "unarmed" club.
"Yeah, my class is Primal Tyrant," Theus said, "a brawler, fist-fighter type."
The group's expressions instantly brightened, a collective wave of relief washing over them. "Oooohhhh… nice! Finally!" they exclaimed in unison. They pulled Theus closer, as if he were a long-lost friend, patting him on the back. "We thought we were the only ones!" one of them added. They immediately launched into a discussion about how difficult it was to find other Players who didn't rely on weapons, sharing anecdotes of bewildered agents and skeptical looks.
Theus finally asked, "Did you guys have the same class?"
They exchanged glances, then said in unison, a chorus of shared identity, "Yeah, we do!" They smiled, a genuine camaraderie radiating from them.
Theus was genuinely shocked. "That's like one in a million!"
The group laughed, a hearty, booming sound. "Hahahah! That's what we always hear!"
A sudden, jarring sound cut through the air. A mass of drones, buzzing faintly, descended from above, hovering over the plains. At the center of the field, a new agent, distinct from the checkpoint staff, stood with a megaphone. This one was a towering figure, his uniform crisp, his face set in a grim, unyielding expression. His presence commanded attention, even before he spoke.
He was about to speak when a small, green goblin, wielding a crude club, darted out from a nearby thicket, rushing towards him. Without breaking stride, the agent simply reached out, his hand moving with impossible speed, snatched the goblin by its neck, and hoisted it into the air. The creature thrashed, its tiny legs kicking uselessly, as the agent presented it for everyone to see.
"Everyone, listen up!" he shouted, his voice booming over the megaphone, cutting through the murmurs and drawing the attention of every single student. "The test will begin now!" He held the struggling goblin aloft.
"If you see a wave of drones above you, understand that they are assigned to each of you, locked on at all times, to evaluate your Class Mastery Assessment requirements. Usually, it takes only one day to finish all requirements and leave, but not all of you are here. Your lack of preparation, your hesitations, your weakness is the reason it will take three days for this assessment!"
His gaze swept over the crowd, lingering on those who flinched. "However, everyone will get to participate in the boss raid, but only once a sufficient number of students appear in the boss zone. Everyone arriving must wait for the others. This may not seem standard, but since we're required to look after you, you will be forced to follow our rules to avoid any mishaps and deaths."
He tightened his grip on the goblin's neck, its struggles weakening, a pathetic whimper escaping its throat. "As much as you look down on these goblins," he continued, his voice dropping slightly but still carrying, "it's called a G-rank gate because there are few of them. But in an F-rank gate, these dumbwits will swarm you, and they are not messing around. They will kill you. With an arrow, a spear, a poison dart. And if you're a female, they will inflict unspeakable horrors, especially upon those they perceive as vulnerable. Understand that the depravity of these creatures knows no bounds."
A collective gasp went through the students. Some female students visibly recoiled, their faces paling, hands instinctively going to their chests. Male students exchanged grim, uneasy glances, a new, chilling understanding dawning in their eyes. The air grew heavy with the unspoken threat.
The agent's eyes hardened further, and a faint, orange glow enveloped the goblin in his hand. It shrieked, a high-pitched, desperate sound, then burst into a small, contained flame, turning to ash in moments, leaving only a wisp of smoke. "But it is a responsibility for all Players to kill these gremlins. It is a path that includes killing. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir!" the students roared in unison, their voices laced with a new, grim determination, a collective resolve forged in the face of stark, brutal truth.
"Then the test starts now!"