Naymond counted his words carefully.

  “Well,” he said, very cautious. “I’ve been going around destroying labs like this.”

  Madness looked at him from his place sitting on top of a very corpulent man. Naymond knew that the man was still alive because the man had woken up twice and gotten a fist to the face both times.

  Madness looked around the room they were in. “Places like this.”

  “Yes, sir,” Naymond answered. “I’m hoping that if I can find all of them and destroy them, the leaders will send someone to come look for me, someone who knows more than these people.”

  Madness looked at the rocket launcher in his hand. “Does that have something to shoot?”

  Naymond paused to look up at it. He dared not lower his arms. Right there at the mouth of the weapon was a loaded round ready to be fired. Of course it had something to shoot.

  “Yes, sir,” he answered.

  Madness grunted in response. Naymond had no idea what it meant.

  “Tell me more about this places that you are destroying,” Madness instructed. “And tell me why you smell of blood.”

  Naymond moved his arms a little, adjusting as his shoulders were beginning to hurt.

  “Romania has a problem,” he began. “There is a council within them that has devised the inhuman plan of finding an artificial way to increase someone’s rank both permanently and temporarily. To achieve that, they have places like this, places where they use Gifted organs to create drugs to achieve those goals.”

  Madness said nothing for a moment. Instead, he bounced a little on the corpulent man’s stomach, like a child. An overgrown child.

  “How many have you gone to?” he finally asked.

  “This is…” Naymond hesitated, taking a moment to balance the rocket launcher. “This is number four.”

  “One, two, three, four.” Madness counted his fingers as he spoke. “Not complete. Five or more. That is why this man is alive.” He paused, looked at Naymond. “Why are you holding the weapon up?”

  Because you told me to, Naymond thought, flabbergasted. His mouth didn’t dare make the mistake of even almost uttering it. For all he knew, Madness was asking him if he knew why he was making him hold it up.

  “Because if I drop it someone could pick it up,” he answered, uncertain.

  Madness looked around, face expressionless. The only people around them were unconscious.

  When his attention returned to Naymond, Naymond almost had a heart attack. Madness gave him the most confused look he had ever seen. It was full of the impossible. Expression.

  Madness had a perfect human expression of confusion on his face.

  “Well,” he said simply. “That is stupid. Nobody will pick it up.”

  Naymond could feel his heart beating heavily in his chest. Madness was using expressions. He would’ve asked if the Oath was practicing if the expression hadn’t been so perfectly executed.

  What is happening? He thought very slowly lowering the weapon.

  He kept his eyes on Madness until the weapon was on the ground, then slowly started to get up.

  Madness gave him a full on friendly smile. “What are you doing?”

  His voice was in total disagreement with his smile.

  “Getting up?” Naymond tried.

  “I have not given you allowance to rise.”

  Naymond went back to his knees very quickly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Do not make the mistake again.”

  It was eerie because Madness was still smiling as if they were the best of friends. After that, silence reigned again for a while.

  “May I ask a question?” Naymond asked carefully.

  Madness nodded. “You may.”

  “Why am I always kneeling down when we meet?”

  “Because on your knees is where you are safe,” Madness answered without missing a beat. “On your feet… You may die.”

  “How?” Naymond asked before he could stop himself.

  Madness’ expression slipped back into nonexistence. “By my hands.”

  Naymond swallowed. His knees had never been happier than they were in this moment, glued to the floor.

  Madness got up from the corpulent man finally. “So all of them are bad people?”

  “Yes, sir,” Naymond answered.

  “The one who chose me says that bad people should be punished,” he muttered. “Enemies of the ones we gave life should be punished harder.” He paused once more, looked at Naymond. “Are they enemies of the ones we gave life?”

  Naymond nodded, suspecting that he knew what it meant to be punished harder.

  Madness looked down at the corpulent man and nodded in silence. “I see.”

  He raised his foot and stomped the man’s head in. The head shattered like a crushed water melon. Blood splashed everywhere, leaving behind nothing but a ruined skull. Naymond grimaced but Madness didn’t even bat an eye. Instead, he bent down and picked up a piece of the man’s skull.

  [World of Insight] informed Naymond that someone in the room had woken up. He turned his head in the woman’s direction only for Madness to flick the piece of fractured skull at the person.

  It slammed into their lying head and [World of Insight] registered as the life left her body. This was the reason Madness was a terrifying Oath.

  You never knew what he would or would not do. You never knew what bothered him or did not bother him. You never knew when, how, why or if he would kill you.

  With Madness, you knew nothing.

  “Rise [Sage],” Madness said, turning to the exit as more people woke up but did not move. “We have number five to find.”

  Even with permission granted, Naymond’s legs trembled slightly as he got up. Quietly, he picked up the gun lying down beside him. He had dropped it when Madness had made him kneel down.

  “Can I kill the rest of them?” he asked.

  He felt everyone awake and pretending to be dead stiffen very suddenly. Still, they all dared not move. They recognized that their lives were in Madness’ hands. They lived and died by nothing but his will.

  [World of Insight] informed Naymond that one of them was moving his lips in prayer. He wanted to survive and never involve himself in anything questionable again.

  Pray hard, maybe your god will touch his heart.

  Naymond truly believed it because of the unpredictability of Madness.

  The air was still, silent. The entire room waited in anticipation of what Madness would say.

  Madness turned around, looked at the bodies. His jaw dropped. “They are alive?”

  Just like that, everybody scrambled into action.

  Madness kicked his foot out. His steel toed boot went flying into the back of a man’s head just as he cleared three steps. It smacked him hard and sent him stumbling through his fourth step. He lost balance, fell hard, and went head first onto a table with a knife rested precariously upon it. The table jerked at the impact. The man’s head hit the knife’s handle poking out at an angle and it went flying high.

  The man hit the ground on his back and the knife came falling down point first. Everyone watched it bury itself in the man’s neck.

  The world froze once more.

  This was another reason Madness was terrifying. These kinds of coincidences happened around him and you wondered if they were truly coincidences or if his insanity hid a calculated destruction.

  Madness ignored the entire thing that had happened and continued on his journey. Once again, everyone had been reminded that their lives remained in his hands. Even the [Dreadnaught] who was frozen mid rise.

  Madness stopped at the exit, turned around and folded his arms.

  “Please,” he said politely, watching everyone in the room. “Kill them all.”

  Naymond burst into motion immediately.

  The first person got a bullet to the head and fell without a sound. When the others saw this, everyone simply stood where they were, as if in silent agreement.

  They want a quick and painless death, he thought, putting a bullet in the second person’s head. He would grant them all that.

  And he kept his word until only the [Dreadnaught] was left alive.

  “Bullets won’t kill him,” Madness said simply.

  Naymond already knew that. He had also planned for that. Four methods had been put in place for killing the [Dreadnaught] and he picked the least painful method. Putting his hand in his pocket, he pulled out a small case the size of a pill.

  From it, he removed a capsule. He walked over to the man and held it out to him.

  “Cyanide,” he said. “Sometimes our classes make things too difficult.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The [Dreadnaught]’s stats were likely too high to allow things of mundane physical effect to cause him much in the way of damage. One of the plans Naymond had developed was to find a way to trap a grenade in the man’s mouth, and he still wasn’t sure if that would’ve worked.

  The [Dreadnaught] looked from the yellow capsule to Madness in the corner. He was checking his chances.

  Naymond couldn’t blame the man. Unfortunately, there was only one way today ended for him. All he was allowed was the privilege of picking how he died.

  The man took the capsule with shaking hands, put it in his mouth, and bit into it. He lowered himself to the ground where he lay motionless. Tears slipped from his eyes moments before he began to convulse and foam at the mouth.

  Madness watched the entire thing with an empty expression until the man’s life was gone.

  “That was so much fun,” he said when the man died.

  Naymond stared at him in horror. The Madness he knew showed no emotion, was moved by nothing, was interested in nothing.

  This was another side of madness, a side no one knew Madness had. It made Naymond worry more.

  Madness turned away and continued walking.

  “We should do that again,” he said almost to himself.

  Naymond swallowed as he followed.

  What have I gotten myself into.

  …

  “Sounds like a character flaw to me.”

  Melmarc rolled his eyes at his brother’s words, sitting on the chair in his room. As was always the case, Ark occupied the bed while Spitfire sat in the corner. Apparently, Ark could put the demon in a time out. It surprised Melmarc to see it happen.

  “Dude,” Ark pressed, “you’ve had it all day, make a decision.”

  Melmarc groaned. “You make it sound like I’m supposed to be in a rush. These things are supposed to be thought about.”

  “If it was a normal person, I would agree that they were thinking about it in a healthy way,” Ark agreed. “But it’s you we’re talking about. You overthink things. In your case, thinking this long is not about being healthy, it’s about you being you.”

  Melmarc opened his mouth to argue the point, hesitated, then closed it.

  “Fair,” he conceded.

  “Ha!” Ark barked in victory. It forced Spitfire to look back at him from the corner where it was sitting. Ark pointed at it. “You’re in time out. You don’t get to look back.”

  Quietly, Spitfire faced the wall back.

  Melmarc looked between the both of them.

  “What did it do again?” he asked.

  Ark dismissed the question with a gesture. “Nothing too important.”

  “But is it something important, even if it is not too important?”

  Ark paused. Melmarc watched the weight of the question settle on him. He watched awareness take over. Now, Ark could not make a random statement as an answer.

  “Important enough,” he said, avoiding a direct answer.

  He’s hiding the crime.

  “So, shall we look into this?” Ark asked. “Or are you planning on calling uncle Dorthna for advice?”

  Melmarc shook his head to that. Uncle Dorthna had already told him once upon a time that it was always best to have the confidence to choose your skills without anyone’s advice. Advice was good, but ultimately, decisions like these boiled down to the Gifted.

  Congratulations!

  Base mastery is at 30%

  [Knowledge is Power (Mastery 30.11%)(32.11%)].

  Would you like to upgrade your skill or acquire a new skill?

  [Y/N]

  Please know that you can't renege on this decision.

  Personally, he thought it was unfair that he could not see what benefits would come from upgrading [Knowledge is Power] as well as the skill options if he chose to acquire a new skill. Usually that was not the case. It made this a gamble. You chose one and that was it.

  What made this different?

  “You going to specialize?” Ark asked.

  Melmarc wasn’t sure. There were two types of powerful Delvers. One type was powerful because they had an array of skills that they could use to put you in the ground. Each skill left you wondering what attack would come next. The second type were the specialized type. They carried few skills, but each skill was capable of doing so much while also packing quite a punch.

  “I’d say versatile for now,” he answered after some thought. “Maybe I’ll specialize on the next skill that hits the ten percent increase mark.”

  “No.” Ark raised a finger to halt him. “Remember what Uncle Dorthna said. Don’t think that your skill will upgrade every ten percent. The interface never told anyone that. It just happened to everyone and people started to think it was a rule. Remember one of your skill hit twenty percent and didn’t upgrade or give you a new skill.”

  Melmarc nodded then returned his attention to his interface.

  Acquire new skill.

  [Melmarc Jay Lockwood, a selection of skills you have proven efficient in to some degrees over time have been listed out for you. Would you like to view them?]

  [Yes/No]

  Yes.

  [Where is it Hiding?]

  The Gifted releases a burst of mana that reveals potential buffs in the vicinity existing a brief period after their use.

  [Appreciated Generosity]

  The Gifted accepts a potential buff offered by one of their ally.

  [Walking on Sunshine]

  The Gifted has the ability to increase the duration of buffs applied to them.

  [Extended Kindness]

  The Gifted gains an additional potential buff for every buff they gain.

  Why do they look like supporting skills?

  Melmarc found himself in a tight spot once he was done reading the options. He had never gotten in a fight that lasted more than eight minutes, and while he considered the possibility, [Knowledge is Power] had a very short cooldown time. He could simply cast it once more and acquire a new skill. This eliminated [Walking on Sunshine].

  [Appreciated Generosity] looked interesting but, ultimately, it did the exact same thing as [Bless Your Kindness], the only difference was that it needed his ally to offer him the skill.

  It just looked like [Bless Your Kindness] with consent with friends. He could already do that to anyone without needing permission. And it wasn’t as if there were skills that he could not copy. Perhaps something like this would be a boon to a normal [Faker]. He could just see a situation where a [Faker] could not properly copy an intelligence-based skill only to be offered by their ally and find themselves copying it properly.

  [Appreciated Generosity] was struck out easily.

  That left [Extended Kindness] and [Where is it Hiding?].

  If he was understanding it correctly, [Extended Kindness] gave him a chance at a second skill or generated a second skill for him. He was banking on the former. Ultimately, though, it would grant him an additional buff, which would grant him two skills. As for [Where is it Hiding?], it looked like he could also copy skills recently used even in the absence of their user. The question was what the skill considered as a brief period of time.

  He was stuck between having two skills, one of which he at least chose himself, and increasing the number of skills he could pick from. Since [Knowledge is Power] would give him instantaneous knowledge of all the skills, time was not a problem.

  “Got a gamble going?” Ark asked.

  Melmarc nodded very slowly. He assumed his dilemma was showing on his face. “I just have two skills that—”

  “Nope,” Ark cut him off. “I’m trusting you to make this decision on your own, then tell me what the decision was. As Uncle D likes to say, it’s all about confidence. You can’t go wrong.”

  Melmarc finally took his eyes away from his interface and focused on Ark. “What if I go wrong?”

  Ark snorted. “I know you, Mel. You couldn’t go wrong even if you tried. If you have ten skills to pick from, best believe the one you’ll pick will be top two. You sadly, don’t have the ability to fuck up.”

  Melmarc paused, frowned. “How?”

  “You’ll need to use more words, Mel.”

  “How are you so confident in me making the right choice?” Melmarc clarified. Ark had just said that he could not go wrong and there had been no dissonance.

  Ark’s answer came with a shrug. “It’s because I’ve seen your decision making process and the decisions made. I’m sorry, brother, but this isn’t about faith in you, this is about actually knowing you. So pick.”

  Melmarc took a deep breath and chose.

  [Would you like to choose Extended Kindness? You will not be able to renege on this decision.]

  [Yes/No].

  Yes.

  [You have selected skill Extended Kindness. This has been permanently added to your skill list.]

  …

  Extended Kindness (Mastery 02.00%)

  Second potential buff scales to Mastery of initial buff acquired.

  A passive skill that requires no activation.

  Duration of potential buff gained is tied to that of actual buff gained.

  Where no external potential second buff, a second buff is generated from previous buff.

  Generated previous buff is done at random.

  Skill perks:

  Strength +3 Balance +1 Mental +3 Mana +3

  Once Melmarc was done reading through the details, he pulled up his own personal details.

  [Name: Melmarc Jay Lockwood]

  [Class: Faker – Eye of the Unseen (Mastery -38.19%)]

  [Rank: B]

  [Growth Potential: Unranked]

  [Existential Designation: August Intruder +3% mastery to all skills]

  Titles

  [Slayer], [Mad God], [Mana Blessed], [Hope of ????]

  Skills

  [Knowledge is Power (Mastery 32.00%)], [Bless Your Kindness (Mastery 26.14%)], [Rings of Saturn (Mastery 23.99%)], [Secrecy (Mastery 17.61%)], [Mana Dilation (Mastery 5.32%)], [Not So Fast (Mastery 3.50%)], [Weight of Jupiter (Mastery 5.27%)], [Extended Kindness (Mastery 2.00%)]

  Perks

  [Optimum Existence (39.91%)]

  The August Intruder draws on all necessary traits to achieve a perfect form.

  Stats

  [Agility 8, Balance 13 -- > 14, Mental 19 --> 22, Mana 50 --> 53, Strength 14 --> 17, Dexterity 7, Accuracy 6, Speed 5, Constitution 10, Endurance 8]

  Traits

  [Purified], [Pure Blooded]

  [Calculating…]

  …

  [Total EP 104]

  Melmarc frowned slightly at the [Calculating…] under his traits. It had been there since he’d gained the trait section of his interface. Just what was it calculating that it was still calculating. In the end, remembering that there was no point in worrying over things he could not change, he dismissed his worry.

  His stats felt so unbalanced in his eyes. He didn’t blame himself, though. It was very difficult to think it wasn’t when his highest was at fifty-three when compared to his lowest at six.

  I wonder if something will happen when [Optimum Existence] gets to fifty percent.

  Considering how close to fifty percent it was, he would find out soon enough.

  The next [EP] I can spend will go to the single digits, he decided, not forgetting that he needed a lot of [EP] to reactivate his mother’s Oath.

  His brows furrowed as another thought came to mind. If it cost him [EP] in the thousands to activate an Oath, how much would he gain if he killed an Oath?

  “Another dilemma?” Ark asked.

  Melmarc shook his head. “No. Just wondering how much [EP] I’ll get if I do some tthings.”

  “Oh.” Ark got up from the bed. “So, what skill did you pick?”

  “Something called [Extended Kindness].”

  “How does it work?”

  “I get an extra skill when I use it.”

  “A [Faker] with two skills,” Ark mused. “Interesting.”

  “Not really,” Melmarc disagreed. “The known record for most skills held by a [Faker] is actually seven skills.”

  Ark let out a low whistle. “So there’s someone out there running around with seven extra skills? That’s insane.”

  Melmarc smiled a little. The [Faker] class was looked down on, but that did not mean that it was a useless class. It was just looked down on.

  Ark clapped loudly. “Alright then, let’s go see what this new skill can do.”

  He walked over to Melmarc’s wardrobe and started looking through it. Since he’d taken off his shirt, Melmarc was sure Ark was looking for one of his own to wear. Ark was taller and larger than him, but Melmarc still had shirts that would fit him.

  “Got any friend you’d like us to add to the movement?” Ark asked, holding up a brown shirt. He proceeded to sniff the shirt.

  Melmarc thought about it. His mind went first to Pelumi.

  “Never mind,” Ark said before he could answer. “Just hit Pelumi up.” He put the shirt on then turned to Melmarc with a smile. “We’re going to the gym. Let’s go see what your new skill can really do.”

  Melmarc picked up his phone. The first thing he checked was his chat with Delano. After his brief interview with Mr. Okoro, he’d sent his friend a text asking two simple questions. The first was if Delano knew of any SS-rank [Sage]. The number of SS-ranked Gifted were not up to ten, if he remembered correctly, and a [Sage] was not among that number.

  The second question was if Delano knew or could find any Delver called Callum Cunningham. Apparently, not only was he an Oath, but he was a high ranked Delver who had chosen to sponsor Melmarc’s education through Fallen High.

  Delano was yet to respond.

  Confirming the absence of a response, Melmarc dialed Pelumi’s phone number and put the phone to his ear while it rang.

  “What were you thinking about doing with that [EP] thing?” Ark asked, now squatting in front of Spitfire who was still facing the wall.

  Melmarc shrugged. “I was just thinking about how much [EP] I could get if I killed an Oath, not that I want to.”

  “Oh.” Ark scratched the top of Spitfire’s head. “They don’t really give that much.”

  Melmarc couldn’t really say that he was surprised. “You’d think that they would…”

  He paused, words dying in his mouth. His brows furrowed as it hit him at the same time Pelumi picked up his call.

  His eyes zeroed in on his brother.

  “Wait… what?”