“Does that taste good, Master?”

  The Thousand Year Caterpillar, Cattleya, asked as she peeked her head out of Jin’s shirt pocket every time he tossed and turned the food over the campfire.

  It was a breezy summer night. Perfect for an outdoor barbecue. He even invited Old Man Sid over to the old shrine atop the hill – where he summoned Cattleya a few nights ago – to join in the fun.

  “Baked sweet potatoes? That’s your idea of a barbecue?” He grumbled on, unwrapping the aluminium foil. But one whiff turned that frown into a big grin. “You know what? Forget what I just said. Cheers, mate!”

  Jin smiled as he prepared a dozen pieces for Bahamut next.

  “This offering is acceptable. Suffice. But I prefer the cinnamon ones.”

  “Said the glutton with a pile for himself,” Jin teased.

  Jin picked out two more from the fire. One for Viridiana and the other was shared between Cattleya and himself. The carbuncle took a bite of the steaming flesh, then immediately pulled away, tongue lolling as she sought the nearest body of water.

  She lunged for Old Man Sid’s beer, and the two grappled in a tug-of-war before Viridiana claimed victory, lapping up the spilt liquid amidst the man’s curses.

  “Haha. Told you to be careful,” Jin said, splitting his sweet potato in half. Cattleya, still in her mini form, burrowed into the steaming flesh. Unlike Viridiana, the heat didn’t bother her.

  “M-Master…t-this is soooo good.”

  The four of them ate in silence, the campfire crackling as dried leaves and twigs turned to embers. Crickets chirped in the background, filling the night with ambient sound.

  “Tomorrow’s D-Day, huh?” Old Man Sid broke the silence once he finished with his food. “So, you’re ready?” He glanced at Cattleya but said nothing.

  “Not hundred. Maybe ninety per cent?”

  “Talk about being overconfident bastard,” Old Man Sid replied, toasting a can of beer. “If you don’t pass, I’m going to laugh at you until the day I die.”

  Jin silently returned the toast. He waited for Cattleya to be done with her baked sweet potatoes. Meanwhile, he went over his Player Skill Screen, scrutinising for the umpteenth time the skills he had.

  “Come, Catt. Time for some after-snack exercise.”

  “Y-Yes, Master!”

  Jin’s body glowed in soft ember light, and once it died down, Cattleya the Thousand Year Caterpillar was gone.

  Old Man Sid blinked at the space where the caterpillar had been. “Where’d your earthworm go?”

  Jin gestured at his body. “She’s here.”

  Old Man Sid put his beer down on the ground. “Here as in…”

  Jin didn’t answer. Instead, he turned toward a large rock at the opposite end of the courtyard. With a flick of his wrist, a shimmering thread – thin as silk - shot from his fingertip. It wrapped around the rock with a snap. Then, he pulled it toward him.

  “What in the world?”

  Jin collected a few more without moving an inch from his position. The only thing that moved was his wrist and fingers, and even that, it was very minimal. By the end of it, he had collected a pile.

  But that wasn’t all.

  He shot a thread toward the barren cherry blossom tree, snapping a few of the twigs cleanly in half. He left them hanging, acting like wood chimes.

  “You’re like Spiderman! No. Since you’re using a caterpillar’s power, might as well call you Caterman.”

  “That’s a horrible name. Denied.”

  “So, lying being an Herbalist is alright? But not being a Caterman?”

  “Yes and yes.” Jin took a swig of beer, unfazed by the question. “You know, lots of Players lie about their Classes.”

  “Everyone and their dogs know.” Old Man Sid shook his head. “But your lie has got to be a little believable, you know? Else, the higher-ups are going to be suspicious about you.”

  “Who cares about them? I don’t.” Jin smirked and emptied his can. “The System give you a class, except it doesn’t in my case. But still, you don’t have to be truthful when you’re registered with SeComm. Those who shared their real ones are either very stupid or very confident. Or stupidly confident.”

  “But what kind of Herbalist slings webs like a comic book superhero?”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Catt’s powers aren’t only about threads,” Jin said. “I can sense enemies up to thirty feet away, identify plants, and boost their potency fivefold when I eat them. And that, my friend, makes me an Herbalist.”

  “Make sense, I guess.” Old Man Sid cracked a grin. “But can you swing like Spiderman?”

  “Come on. Enough with Spidey already. And no, I’ve never tried swinging from skyscrapers, nor do I want to. Last thing I need is SeComm chasing me before I get my license.”

  “Scaredy-cat. If it’s me, I’ll be swinging like Tarzan.”

  “In your undies? Shouting like a madman?”

  “Yup. Can’t beat being free, mate.”

  The two shared another round of beer. Jin continued training through the night, turning threads into webs and webs into cocoons. It amazed Old Man Sid to no end until Jin cancelled his amalgamation form.

  “Oi, Jin. What’s the catch?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Seeing you used it like no one’s business. The whole courtyard is like a silk farm now. So, what’s the catch?”

  “No catch. I mean, Bee mentioned that as the host, I’d display some physical traits of my summoned beasts. But I haven’t seen it with Catt yet. But who knows?”

  Old Man Sid burst out laughing. “So you might wake up tomorrow looking like a squishy, overgrown maggot?”

  Jin grinned. “Let’s hope not.”

  A tiny voice piped up from his shirt pocket. “M-Master! I-I’d never do that!”

  “I know, I know. I’m only teasing.”

  After cleaning up the shrine’s courtyard, the two headed into town for supper. Bahamut had been insisting on his ‘offering’ of cinnamon croissants, and Old Man Sid wanted oden.

  And despite tomorrow morning being the SeComm’s Player Assessment and Evaluation Examination, Jin decided to entertain their wishes anyway. A full stomach makes for a motivated man, after all.

  Besides, whatever happened tomorrow, tonight was a night he wanted to celebrate.

  Never in his dreams had he imagined he would enter a Player examination to become a licensed Player. Seven years ago, he had been a ‘special’ Cleaner – a corpse beautician, toiling his life away in dangerous zones just to make ends meet.

  But tomorrow, he wouldn’t be cleaning up after battles. He’d be fighting his own.

  And for the first time in years, the stakes weren’t about survival anymore. They were about the future. For himself. For Old Man Sid. For the friends who had become his family. And most of all, he would be one step closer to his daughter.

  ***

  “Are you Gilgamesh or something?!”

  Ironshield’s voice boomed through the exam hall. A wave of muffled laughter rose only to die under his intense glare.

  “There’s underprepared, and then there’s this guy. Five swords, a bow, and a belt full of daggers.” He heaved a sigh, shaking his head. “How in the world are you going to use them all? Can you even use them all?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he moved on to the next participant that piqued his ire.

  “I see you had a rather interesting night. Baggy eyes and all.” Ironshield leaned in, then recoiled in disgust. “You reek of cheap booze. Forget sleep. Can you even walk straight?”

  The SeComm training centre buzzed with nervous energy. Three hundred examinees stood under Ironshield’s scrutiny. Jin stood near the back of the pack, arms crossed, watching the circus unfold.

  All of them were Player Assessment and Evaluation Examination examinees. Divided into three phases, today was Phase One.

  Individual Combat Test.

  It would not involve virtual RIFT – which came as a relief to some – but holographic monsters projected onto the arena floor.

  “Looking at you lots pissed me off!”

  Ironshield growled, scanning the crowd. He was already on edge prior to the examinee's arrival, and after finding out that they were more interested in playing the fool, he blew his top.

  He’d most likely stormed off the exam hall, not wanting to baby any of them further if his duty didn’t compel him to stay.

  “You think this is a playground? That it’s easy? If this were the real RIFT, I’d boot every single one of you out the door and tell you to rethink your damn life. Because right now? You’re all deadweight. And deadweight gets people killed.”

  Silence. Thick, awkward silence.

  Jin got it. Back when he was a Cleaner, he’d never let some half-drunk idiot stumble into the RIFT. The risk was too high. If you fucked up alone, fine. Your funeral anyway. But if you dragged others down with you? That was a whole different level of stupid and negligence.

  Ironshield was preaching the same sermon. But one look at the crowd told Jin most weren’t listening. Even worse, some stragglers were still trickling in as he inspected the group.

  The man wasn’t to suffer being the fool any longer.

  “Final reminder,” he said, his tone clearly annoyed. “Do whatever you want, but the moment you let your guard down, even for a second, you’re defeated. And in the real RIFT? That means you’re dead. Understood?”

  He didn’t even wait for any answers. Instead, his gaze flicked upward to a windowed observation room overlooking the arena. Inside, a handful of people had gathered. Instructors and most likely some head-hunters were watching. A nod from inside, and Ironshield turned back, his stoic face bearing the next news.

  “Alright, everyone. Listen up. Return to the lobby. Grab your numbers and training bracelets. When your numbers up, come back here. Test starts immediately. Good luck.”

  Jin shuffled out with the rest of the herd. After collecting his number – Number 77 – he waited in the lobby. On the other side, a bank of screens displayed the arena, where Ironshield and the other instructors fine-tuned the holographic projections.

  “Weird. Isn’t this supposed to be a public event?” Jin mumbled under his breath. He looked around. He was the only one on that side of the lobby.

  Nobody else was watching. No reporters. No spectators. No family. Not even one nervous friend in the stands.

  “I guess they’re anxious or something,” he muttered. “Well, whatever. Let’s see how the others do.”

  A few minutes later, the intercom crackled to life:

  < Examinee Number 1. Please enter the arena >

  It was Shinohara.

  He nearly didn’t recognise her. The kunoichi garb and the way she tied her hair made her look so much different from the last time he saw her. Jin wanted to go over and say hello. Maybe offer a word of encouragement or two.

  But after seeing how she prepped herself up – slapping her face twice despite her hands shaking like leaves hit by a gale – he’d save it for later. A congratulatory word would fare better after she’d done with her exam.

  But deep down, Jin knew that Shinohara might have a little problem. Not because she was nervous. Not because she was not skilful. And neither was she a coward.

  And sure enough, five minutes later, she stumbled out, her face wet with snot and tears, her shoulders dropping almost reaching the floor. The instructors rushed to console her as Jin shook his head, watching from afar.

  Her biggest weakness was her confidence. Or severe lack of it.

  Was Eleana ever like this? Hopefully not. I’d not be able to hold myself seeing her crying like that.

  After Shinohara, the other examinee entered once their number was called up. Timothy didn’t manage to pass the second round. He was the total opposite of Shinohara, the overconfident idiot charged in like a bull, got swarmed, and wiped out before he even realised what hit him. At the very least, he didn’t cry like the world just ended.

  After around two long hours of waiting, it was finally Jin’s turn.

  < Examinee Number 77. Please enter the arena >

  The intercom echoed in the background as he made his way inside the training arena.

  “Surprise to see you come up here unprepared.” Ironshield eyeballed the next examinee as he approached the platform. “I thought you’d do better. Casual clothes. No weapon either.”

  Jin shrugged. “I see no point in bringing unnecessary stuff. Not like my armour's going to protect me from these monsters, right?”

  “And your weapon? How are you planning to fight without one?”

  Jin smiled, pointing toward a couple of weapon racks by the corner of the training arena. “Figured I could borrow some.”

  “Are you for real?” Ironshield sighed. “Fine. Just get on with it already.”

  “Sorry. But I don’t have enough money to even buy anything worth using as a Player. Not even the undies.” Jin laughed as he picked a couple of weapons among the twenty that were available. ”This will do.”

  A set of two knives and a three-sectioned staff.

  “Interesting choice for a Supporter type,” Ironshield remarked, eyeing him with newfound curiosity.

  “I guess familiarity beats being flashy,” Jin said, giving the staff an experimental twirl. “Besides, I like them multipurpose.”

  “Multipurpose?” Ironshield smirked.

  Jin nodded. “You can go long. Go short or even at arm’s length. Nifty, right?”

  “If you say so.” Ironshield stood by the hologram terminal. “Final reminder. Your test ends the moment your bracelet’s HP hits zero. Understood?”

  “Clear as day.”

  “Good.” Ironshield’s fingers went over the controls. “Examinee Number 77, Frank Stein. Are you ready?”

  “Bring it on.”