"Are the monsters scary?"

  "Is it dangerous in dungeons?"

  "What's a credit?"

  "When do I get to kill stuff?"

  The questions were telling of just how fresh off the Tutorial Dungeon these people were. Some even made Luke think they'd found some way to skip the tutorial altogether. After answering a few questions, Viola looked a little dejected when she nodded to Luke. "What's your question, Mr. Quinn?"

  "The video says you can tell how dangerous a dungeon will be."

  "Yes?"

  "How? The DIA spoke of an item for that, but said it was prohibitively expensive."

  Viola gave him a thin smile. "We have three Portal Testers."

  "Damn," Luke said, leaning back in his chair. "That's impressive."

  "Isn't it?" she said, the smile turning into somewhat of a satisfied smirk. "We, and by 'we' I mean Mr. Schmidt, have worked out an agreement with the DIA. In short, we get paid in credits to provide information to the public."

  "That's kind of scummy," Luke said. The words left his mouth before his brain caught up and stopped him. They weren't wrong, per se, but this was perhaps not the best place to give his thoughts on the matter.

  The smile dropped from her face. "Nothing in life is free, Mr. Quinn." She turned to address the entire room. "Are there any further questions? If not, I have some new information to go over before you are divided into parties, things we have discovered since producing the video."

  No one spoke up, so she continued.

  "This pertains to dungeon breaks, which are when the monsters from within a dungeon can gain access to the portal and leave through it. Combined and analyzed reports from across the world have made our researchers certain. Monsters can only leave a dungeon if they are smart enough or if there is an intelligent boss in the dungeon directing them to leave. Since we don't have a device to measure this, it means you will have to use your best judgment in dungeons. An imp won't be able to leave unless forced by a boss, but an elven mage will be able to escape."

  Luke raised his hand again. "What about monsters turning up in the world without a portal?"

  The rest of the initiates looked over at him, then started whispering to each other. A few of those whispers sounded excited, but most were full of fear.

  "We haven't recorded many instances of that happening, but there have been some. So far, we don't know why it happens and under what circumstances. What we do know is that monsters on Earth, coming through a portal or not, won't attack regular people. Integrated, yes, but not those who haven't touched the orb. They might still be injured, of course, but not from direct attacks."

  Viola took a deep breath. "Any other questions? We are a family here, so you should never feel that you have to hold back."

  The guy sitting to Luke's right raised his hand, then pointed it at the foldable desk in front of Luke. "What's that?"

  This time, he didn't even have to look. From the gasps and whimpers, Luke could just tell. "It's my pet," he said, putting a hand on the voidling.

  At the word 'pet', Luke's interface blurred, the text jumping around for a moment, like a glitch, before it returned to its normal state. Now, though, it was with a new menu: Pets.

  Opening that up, there was an option to recall a pet, right next to some information about the voidling. Well, lack of information was more like. It didn't have a name, the role option was just a bunch of gibberish, and the type just said 'unknown'. Still, it was there. Recalling the voidling prompted Luke to supply a name.

  Frowning and ignoring the looks, he gave the little creature in front of him a proper look. Like before, it was just nothing. A blank void. It moved around with something you could interpret as some sort of base intelligence and personality, which was an interesting concept. All in all, it looked like nothing more than an inkblot. Luke sent a name while looking straight at the new companion.

  Smudge.

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  The voidling's attention shifted to Luke, and even without features, he thought it tilted its head, or the part of its nothingness that sat above the rest of it.

  Your pet has accepted the name.

  The interface updated with the name and set Smudge's level to 1, but didn't show stats, skills, or anything of the like. Hunger, though, showed up, and the little guy was famished. Luke wondered what things that didn't exist in the system ate.

  Viola cleared her throat. "Integrated pets are not uncommon, but please refrain from letting companion animals, monsters, and the like out in the classroom."

  "Sure," Luke said, pulling Smudge into whatever storage pets lived in when not out in the open. The little bastard resisted for a moment, but then allowed itself to be pulled away. "Sorry."

  Several of the others gave him strange looks, but Luke was used to that.

  "Right, well. Let's carry on," Viola said, turning to write a single word on the whiteboard behind her in large, blocky letters. Profession. "Few of you have reached the point where you can select a profession as of yet, but upon reaching level 10, that option will be presented to you by the system. ISG will not force you into a specific profession, but we have compiled a list of professions that will benefit the guild, and by extension, you the most. You will find this list, along with descriptions where available, in the welcome packet handed to you at the end of today."

  When Viola fell silent and no questions arose from those listening, she clapped her hands and nodded, her smile widening. "Well, then. Time for the fun part! Let's get you sorted into parties. Each party will have an internal ranking within the guild and a profile that will let us know which parties should go to which dungeons, among other things. Tomorrow, you will spend the first half of your day training with your party, then the second half with your class archetype."

  It took them about half an hour to divide everyone into groups of six. Sitting in a smaller conference room, Luke and the rest of his party were told to get to know one another. Their assigned leader was a tank named Nash, a long-haired rocker type with a vandyke who wore a black T-shirt with the print of some metal band, blue jeans full of holes, and a ridiculous number of bracelets around both wrists.

  Leaning back in his chair and putting both feet on the round, small table, Nash flashed a white smile and made a gesture to encompass them all. "So, friends, we are it! We'll rock up to the top of that list and blast through whatever dungeon they throw us into! Trust me, I've been through several dungeons already!"

  "Um, we have a sheet of questions. I think we should stick to it," an Indian-looking girl with thick-rimmed glasses, long-dark hair to the point of being black, and purple-painted fingernails, said. She adjusted the top of her cream-colored blouse, as if making sure the top was still buttoned.

  Nash turned his grin at her. "What's your name?"

  "Priyah."

  "Well, Priyah. Hit me!"

  "What?" she asked.

  He made a get-on-with-it gesture. "The questions. Let's go! Fire away!"

  "Why did you join the guild?" Luke read from the top, wanting to get on with it.

  Someone who hadn't spoken yet supplied the first answer, his voice gruff. "It was either that or go to prison."

  "Prison? That's hardcore, man," Nash said, taking his feet off the table to lean forward, pointing at the guy. "What'd you do? Also, name, if you please."

  "Tom."

  "And, my thick-armed, wife-beater-wearing, right-wing-looking, buzz-cut, broken-nose friend, did you do?" Nash asked, not a hint of reproach in his voice.

  "Beat a guy."

  "Not tax evasion or fraud? I'm not one to stereotype."

  "What about you, Priyah?" Luke asked. If he allowed Nash to keep going, he'd never stop talking.

  She looked away from Tom, her eyes large and with a little fear in them. "My parents wanted me to go back home and marry. I didn't, so I'm here instead."

  "Home?"

  "India."

  Luke nodded. "Luke. I'm here for the same thing as Tom."

  "You beat a guy, too?" Nash asked, shaking his head. "Nah? You strike me as more of a white-collar-crime kind of guy."

  "Something like that," Luke said.

  Nash barked too loud a laugh. "Right, then. Keep your secrets. I'm here because I need the money, and the job market isn't looking great for a man of my qualities. The name makes me want to crawl into a hole and die, but at this point, I didn't have much of a choice, you know?"

  "Name?" Priyah asked.

  "Integrated Solutions Group. The least rock 'n' roll name in all of history, but that's what you get when the guildmaster is some old white guy CEO-type."

  "Oh," she said.

  "What about you two?" Luke asked, looking over at a guy and a girl who had to be brother and sister. Maybe twins, even.

  They were both androgynous, pale, and thin with long, straight, loose-flowing, natural-looking red hair. Their eyes were sunken with dark bags under them, like neither had slept. Both of them wore khaki-colored rompers, if that was what you called the short-pants and t-shirt stitched together type of garment. Luke wasn't a fashion guy, but these two looked like they were fashion models. Or maybe part of a cult.

  "We are Sam and Mas," the female one said, speaking in a low voice without looking up from the table. She had an accent that was hard to place, something Eastern European, maybe, or Nordic.

  "That is weird as fuck," Nash said. "Which is which?"

  "I am Sam," the female said. "My brother does not speak much."

  Nash sighed. "Of course you are."

  "Why did you join the guild?" Priyah asked.

  Neither of them answered.

  "Great, just great," Nash said. "Looks like they took all the weirdos who didn't have anything better to do and stuck them in the same party."

  Luke nodded. "You're in this party too."

  Nash stood and raised his hands to the side, tilting his head toward the ceiling. "I'm the weirdo leader of weird weirdos!" He then lowered his head and pointed straight at Luke. "Don't you worry, I'll whip you all into shape and make sure we rock!"

  "To rocking," Luke said, raising his fist.

  "Yeah! That's it!" Nash shouted, mimicking the gesture, nodding for everyone else to follow.

  Tom sighed and raised his fist, followed by Priyah, who looked a little confused. Sam and Mas didn't move a muscle. Great start. Real great.