The gem crackles as the screen comes to light. An image appears of beautiful white pillars flanking the Pope as he steps up to the podium. The chorus of the choir dies down as he begins.

  “Welcome all to this holy day. I’m proud to announce that the Holy Maiden has received a message from the Gods,” he says with a zealous glee.

  The cheers of the masses erupt as he steps to the side to reveal the Holy Maiden, who is covered head to toe in white silk and gold robes.

  The cheering dies down as she says, “The Gods have revealed to me that The Chosen One has been selected and his name is Car-”

  The magic screen shatters as I [Throw] a pebble through it. The pair of children groan as they turn to look at me with anger in their eyes.

  “CJ, we were watching that. What did you do that for!?” one of the kids yells as he walks up to me.

  With a yawn, I pull myself out of the trash and look down at the dark alley we stand in. Still the same as yesterday.

  “What did I tell you guys about stealing?” I ask as I pull a banana peel from my horns.

  “Don’t do it?” the other kid says as he tries to salvage the communicator gem.

  “What? No. Weren’t you listening? I told you not to get caught. You think people aren’t going to be suspicious when a couple of street kids have a communicator gem?” I ask as I ruffle the kid's hair, wiping some dirt on it.

  “We were going to sell it. We just wanted to see who The Chosen One is,” they say in unison.

  “Don’t worry about that bullshit; It has nothing to do with us. Maybe you’ll see him in a parade and he’ll give you a wink, but a wink won’t feed you. So, how about you guys get out of here before I tell your moms what you’ve been up to?” I jokingly threaten.

  “But you taught us how to steal,” they stammer.

  “They’re not my moms. So, get,” I say as I shoo them away.

  The kids start to run away, but before they round the corner of the alley, they stick their tongues out at me. Those little scamps. Still, how did they manage to nab a communicator gem? I only showed them a couple of tricks, must be their [Blessings]. My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I should probably get something to eat. Which means it’s time to visit the local pub's garbage. The special today should be the beef stew. There should be plenty in the garbage. I still don’t understand how you can mess up a simple beef stew when you have a food [Blessing].

  With a heel turn, I slam right into a brick wall… or rather, a man built like a brick wall. The man stands at least three heads above me. He has dark purple skin, pointy ears, purple eyes, black hair, and sheep horns. Your typical Vashrin, except for what he’s wearing. That looks like an expensive suit and some gold rings. Wonder what he’s doing in the back alleys.

  “Sorry about that. Didn’t see you there,” I say as I brush the dirt off his clothes and [Steal] while I’m at it.

  The gold ring effortlessly slips between my fingers as I walk away with a smile. Like taking candy from a baby.

  The beef stew tastes like the bottom of my boot. Which is to say, like shit. Nevertheless, it is food. Hot and disgusting food. As I eat in the alley, a single snowflake falls, marking the start of winter proper along with a rogue wind that knocks my food to the ground. Great, that’s just swell. Now I have to eat floor food. Could things get any worse?

  “Hello, there. Are you Carlos Juárez?” says the rich-looking Vashrin that I stole from.

  “No.” I [Lie].

  We both stare at each other in awkward silence as a rat nibbles on my food. A choking sound fills the space as the rat spits out the disgusting beef stew and crawls away.

  “I’ve been looking for you ever since you stole my ring,” he says as he sits down next to me.

  “You must be mistaken. I don’t know who you are, and I definitely didn’t steal your ring,” I [Lie] as I scoot away from him.

  “I must say. You are an impressive Vashrin. Most I meet don’t have the skills you do,” he says as he scoots closer to me.

  With confusion, I look at my [Stat Window].

  Is he being sarcastic? The dick. The only thing impressive about me is my [LCK], and that thing doesn’t even work half the time. This guy must be a weirdo. It’s better to cut my losses.

  “Would you look at that?” I pull the ring out of my pocket. “It must’ve fallen into my pocket when we bumped into each other earlier. Here you can have it back,” I say as I put the ring in his hand and try to book it.

  With a chuckle, he nods and says, “How would you like to do a job for ten thousand gold?”

  I stop in my tracks and turn back to face him. “There’s no way you have that much money, and if you did, why would you pay me that much?” I question out of pure curiosity.

  With a devilish smile, he answers, “Well, to answer your second question. You’re the only one who can do this job. I need a Vashrin male who's about eighteen and who has a good head on his shoulders.”

  With a smile, I laugh. “Those are some specific requirements you got there, but you still don’t have that much money. So, why don’t you tell me how much you’re actually going to pay me?” I say as I scoop the beef stew off the ground.

  “What could I do to convince you?” he says in a playful tone. “I know! We could make a [System Contract].”

  The smile disappears from my face at the mention of a [System Contract]. He’s insane. That type of contract puts your life up as collateral. Maybe he’s telling the truth. He looks rich.

  “Okay, you got my interest. What do you need me to do?” I ask, bracing for the impossible.

  “I need you to attend and graduate from Sylvian University. I’ll pay for all fees, including boarding and materials. While you are there, you’ll impersonate an individual who shares your name. As long as you graduate without being exposed, I’ll pay you ten thousand gold coins,” he says without a hint of a lie in his voice.

  That much coin would change my life. No more cold winters fighting smelly Doug for wood scraps, or waking up with a rash from who knows where, or getting hounded by the guards. I’d be rich. Really rich. People who say, ‘Money isn’t everything,’ probably didn’t have ten thousand gold coins worth of money. What six years at Sylvian University tricking a bunch of uptight richy rich nobles with a golden stick up their ass. Sounds like a good time and easy money.

  “Will you do it?” he says with a devilish smile.

  “By the [System], I, CJ, accept this contract.”

  “Then by the [System], I, Abrigon, accept this contract.”

  A [System] message appears over both of us.

  This tie is killing me. How do people wear this shit? I loosen the poorly tied tie and sling the red suit jacket over my shoulder. Red pants and jacket. Blue shirt and tie. Red and blue, like a jester. You’d think the royal family would’ve picked better colors than that. Plus, who has a deer as their royal… sigil or symbol? Ah, thing. I don’t know what it is. I barely know the royal colors.

  Then there was the travel. It was hard to find a carriage that would take a Vashrin all the way to the capital, and the one I did find had me pay double. Well, at least it wasn’t my money. It was the spending money that Abrigon gave me. It didn’t even last long. I ended up spending most of it on the carriage here and the Sylvian uniforms. Oh, and those tailors were assholes. They asked me five times if I had the right school. I didn’t even stutter. I don’t know how they managed not to understand me.

  As I continue down the street, the main gate of Sylvian University comes into view. The golden gates stand open in a rich, pretentious way. Passing through it are a plethora of students in similar uniforms. Elves, Dryads, Beastkin, Dwarves, of course, humans, and some that I don’t even know. That’s the capital for you.

  As I follow the flow of students, a guard stops me.

  “Hey, kid. I think you got the wrong place. How about you turn around?” the guard says.

  “Is this Sylvian University?” I ask as I fiddle with my tie.

  “Yeah.”

  “Then I’m in the right place,” I say as I start to walk past.

  “Listen, kid. I’m going to have to see your admission papers,” he says as he stands in my way.

  Producing the paperwork from my bag, I hand it to him. As he looks it over, his eyes go wide, and he starts to sweat.

  He clears his throat as he passes my papers back. “Excuse me, I apologize, sir. I didn’t realize who you were. Please head inside.”

  With a nod, I respond, “Ok. Well, now you do.”

  That was weird, but I’ll tell you what. I like the sound of sir. It just fits. If everyone is going to be calling me that, I could get used to this. Now, where’s that Main Hall? Looking around the open courtyard, I see the flow of students heading into a large, blue building that looks offensively rich. The kind of rich I’m going to be when I finish this job. As I follow the flow of students, I start to think about what I’m going to buy first. Maybe some good beef stew, no more garbage stew, or warm clothes. Maybe a bed, the size of a house, or a house made out of beds. As I continue to mull over my future spending habits, I take a seat. I could even buy myself a… I’m coming up blank. I’ve lost all creativity. No, we’re back. I could buy shoes that make me fly or a jacket that makes me humongous. An old man with silver hair starts to speak at the podium as I go further and further down the rabbit hole of my mind.

  “So, I would like to introduce you all to Carlos Juárez. Carlos, come join us on the stage,” the old man says to the auditorium.

  My ears perk up as I realize my name was called. Somewhat confused, I stand up and walk down the aisle to the stage. As I do, the crowd bursts into a whisper as they watch me. What, do I have some leftover floor food on my shoes? I’ll get it later.

  The moment I join the old man on the stage, he gives me a confused look.

  “I’m sorry, son. Are you lost?” he whispers to me.

  “Are you? You’re the one who called me up here,” I whisper back.

  “You’re Carlos Juárez?” he says in confusion.

  “Yeah. What aren’t you getting? I’m CJ,” I say, also in confusion.

  Did this old guy go senile or something? He looks confused and worried. Somebody should really check on him. A young man joins us on the stage and whispers in his ear.

  “Are you sure?!” the old man exclaims before he catches himself.

  As he struggles to collect himself, the old man starts to sweat. “I… I present to you all Carlos Juárez, The Chosen One.”

  What??

  What?!