The walk from where they had their gym class was awkward. Devin had nothing but a frown plastered on his face but said nothing the entire way. Melmarc kept his mouth shut, too walking with both hands in his pockets. If the boy felt the need to be silent, then he wasn’t going to try and break the silence. It wasn’t as if he was in a hurry to. He had never been a fan of people who couldn’t stand uncomfortable silences to the point that they had to say something.

  Especially when there’s a reason for the silence.

  Devin led Melmarc through the school building. Unlike the rest of the school premises that was filled with buildings of towering heights and different sections, the actual building that held the classrooms wasn’t that big, although it was wide.

  There were rooms for individual classes. While every class had a main room, some subjects were held in specific classes. These subjects were not limited to biology and chemistry or even classes that required labs of any kind. For instance, their Spanish lessons had its own class.

  The same building housed the classes for all students of the school without exception. Often times when moving from one class to another, Melmarc would run into the second years, catching glimpses of Ark engrossed in one conversation or the other. Every time Ark would see him and take a moment to acknowledge him in one way or the other.

  Devin took another turn, and Melmarc wasn’t surprised when the boy led them out of the academic building.

  Is he taking me to the right place? He wondered, knowing the boy had a reason to have a vendetta against him. You did break his ribs, though.

  Then again, the boy had been breaking people’s ribs during the test. It would be stupid to dish out what he couldn’t take.

  The thought made Melmarc pause. A piece of advise Ninra had given him when he was younger came to mind.

  Just because you’re logical it doesn’t mean that everyone must be logical. Stupid people do exist.

  Melmarc looked at Devin out of the corner of his eye. What were the chances that Devin was one of those stupid people? There was always a chance, so Melmarc slowed his steps down a little until he walked a step or two behind Devin.

  Noticing it, Devin paused to look at him. He looked like he wanted to say something. In the end, he didn’t. Instead, he continued walking under the soft afternoon sun. He was, it seemed, adamant to not talk to Melmarc.

  Their walk lasted for around half an hour. If they had walked a little faster instead of strolling, they would’ve gotten to their destination sooner.

  Their destination was a flat wide building, like a boring cuboid. Whoever had designed it was definitely lacking in taste. Melmarc stared at what was arguably an overgrown box and the ever growing irritable design of white with black stains that seem to corrupt for a moment before turning his eyes to something more interesting.

  Two grown adults stood at the entrance to the building. Of average height, one was dark-skinned while the other was Caucasian.

  “Good afternoon, Raymond,” Devin greeted.

  The Caucasian, blue-eyed and blond hair, nodded. “Afternoon, Devin.” He looked at Melmarc. “Is this one for the combat team or the new group?”

  “I’m guessing combat team,” Devin answered. “They are only letting S-ranks and A-ranks into the new group.”

  “So you made the cut?”

  Devin frowned. “Not yet, but I hope to.” He offered the other man a smile. “Good afternoon, Kelvin.”

  The second man, Kelvin, nodded but didn’t respond verbally. Raymond opened the door and Devin and Melmarc entered, Melmarc nodding to each man.

  “Good evening,” he told Raymond, offering Kelvin a greeting of his own. “Good evening.”

  “Evening,” Raymond responded.

  Kelvin’s response was nothing but a nod.

  Melmarc tried to think nothing of it. If he did, he had a feeling he would want to ask Devin if Kelvin was not a people person or if there was a reason the man had said nothing.

  In continued silence, Devin led Melmarc through a wide hallway. The walls were brown on both sides but the tiled floor was a soft beige color.

  A’s and S’s, he thought as they walked. So that was what he was going to be dealing with, training with ranks above him.

  What was interesting was that while Tuff, his gym instructor, had told him exactly what he was being called for, Devin didn’t know. He was intrigued to find out why.

  Devin brought them to a stop next to a set a set of double doors. He paused there, seemingly hesitant. Melmarc waited too, not wanting to do or say anything that he’s not supposed to.

  It was a moment before Devin spoke. With no sound coming out of the room beyond the doors, the boy took a very deep breath, then let it out.

  “Melmarc,” he said, his tone sounding forced.

  Melmarc slipped his hands out of his pockets. “Devin.”

  Devin’s lips pursed in slight annoyance. He sighed again. “Do you hate me?”

  “Nope.” Melmarc tried to sound as casual as possible. “Do you hate me?”

  Devin paused to give it some thought. “Nope.”

  Melmarc paused. He’d been expecting to sense some dissonance, but there was none. Devin actually didn’t hate him.

  “You beat me,” Devin continued. “That much is true, but you don’t want to let that get to your head. That was a test, beyond these doors things get different. You have to be on your best at all times. Never underestimate your opponents, no matter what.” He pointed at the door. “Beyond these doors, it’s war. I can’t have someone who beat me on a handicap messing up.”

  Melmarc paused. A handicap?

  He would’ve asked if Devin was really on a handicap if not for the fact that there was no dissonance.

  What handicap?

  Devin’s expression turned to one of intrigue. “That’s… interesting,” he muttered to himself, then opened one of the doors.

  The moment the door opened, Melmarc was greeted to the sound of people talking and balls bouncing.

  “Oh, yeah, one more thing,” Devin said, door still held open. “I don’t hate you because it makes no sense to hate someone that’s weaker than me.”

  With that, he walked into the room.

  Melmarc paused, gave the boy’s words some thought. I guess that makes some kind of sense.

  He followed in after Devin, now wanting to face Devin without whatever handicap the boy had been put on during the test.

  The room they walked into was an indoor basketball court, complete with wooden floors and high rising bleachers. At the actual court, there was no design signifying that it was the home grounds of Fallen High.

  Training court, Melmarc mused. It was a question he could not ask his guide.

  When they both got to the court, Melmarc found over ten students sitting comfortably on the basketball floor, right at the sidelines. In front of them stood four adults that were talking to each other. There was one woman with red fiery hair and a horizontal scar across the bridge of her nose and three men who stood like soldiers with hands behind their backs. The woman seemed to be the one in charge.

  “I got him,” Devin announced, thumbing at Melmarc.

  The woman’s head turned, so did the heads of the seated students. Melmarc picked Ark out easily. Ark looked at him and wiggled his brows in acknowledgement of his presence. The joviality of the action made Melmarc smile a little.

  “Ah, Mr. Lockwood,” the lady said with a touch of enthusiasm. “We’ve been waiting for you. Please,” she gestured to the seated students, “find a spot.”

  Trying not to cause any delay, Melmarc hurried to sit beside Ark. He nestled in comfortably, drawing his knees up to wrap his arms around his legs.

  Ark gave him a grin. “I hope you’ve got some strength saved up from gym.”

  “Kinda,” Melmarc replied in a whisper. “They’re only running us ragged physically, so I’ve still got enough mana.”

  “That’s nice of them. Our gym instructor exhausts us in every way. She just makes sure we don’t fall into mana fatigue.”

  That made sense.

  “So,” Melmarc said, leaning in, “why a basket ball court? Is this where you guys have been holding it?”

  Ark shrugged. “It’s my first day.”

  “Lockwoods,” the woman said politely. “Kindly converse when I have given you permission or outside my training session.”

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ark and Melmarc fell silent immediately. Melmarc was sure to put up an apologetic expression.

  “That said,” the woman declared, “for the sake of our new arrival, my name is Mrs. Southfire. I will be in charge of the lecture we will be having today. For those of you that are new, I will let you know that this is not the whole team. We are not that much. I think…” she paused thoughtful as she panned her gaze across them. “We should be about eleven in total, maybe less?” she looked at one of the men. “Less?”

  The man, blond haired, nodded. “Less.”

  “So less,” she said, returning her attention to them. “We are only this much because of the combat team that has been pleased to offer us a portion of their time.”

  “It’s not a problem, ma’am,” a boy from the group piped up.

  Mrs. Southfire chuckled lightly. “Thank you very much for that, Diret. For that reason, you get to be the first captain. You’ll pick one from the combat team and one from the new kids. Deal?”

  Diret chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Southfire waited, then waited, then sighed. “Get your ass up here, this boy. Introduce yourself to the group. You know you’re also on the new team.”

  Cheers went up from some of the students present immediately. Diret got up, chuckling like an embarrassed leader, smiling all over the place. He was African-American with dreads that were pulled back and tied with a yellow rubber band. He had a smile that made you want to smile back.

  His pants hung low on his waist and he pulled the legs up by the crotch. He staggered to his place beside Mrs. Southfire, still smiling like someone embarrassed, and wiggled his brows at her. She swiped at him playfully which inspired another bout of cheers from the group and more laughter from Diret.

  “Alright, alright.” Mrs. Southfire made a calming gesture at them. “Settle down everyone. I get it, you all love your team captain with all his… swagger? But we have to hurry up so that we can get today’s training done quickly.”

  Obedient, the noise died down as if it had never been.

  Diret pinched at the tip of his nose, sniffing, before comporting himself. “My name is Diretnan Ador, but you can call me Diret. I’m the current captain of the Fallen High combat team, vice captain last year. Today, we will be showing you a training method that is a staple of Fallen High’s training regime.”

  “That’s good,” Mrs. Southfire said. “Now tell them what the training is.”

  Diret thumbed to the court behind him. “Basketball.”

  “Thank you, now get your ass of my court.”

  Diret laughed as he moved to join the others on the sidelines. When he’d taken his place, Mrs. Southfire continued.

  “Now,” she said. “For those of us that don’t know how to play basketball, you will be taught. Think of learning how to play basketball as learning a new skill that will work towards your development.”

  A student raised her hand up.

  “Yes, dear?” Mrs. Southfire said.

  “What if we can’t learn?” the girl asked.

  “Apologies, but what’s your name?”

  “Adelia.” She was soft spoken with brunette hair woven into simple braids.

  “Are there any other sports that you know how to play, Adelia?” Mrs. Southfire asked.

  “Oh, not me, ma’am,” she answered. “I know how to play the sport. I’m asking in case there are people who don’t know how to, and end up unable to learn.”

  “Ah, I see,” Mrs. Soutfire mused. “In such a case, they will be taught a different sport and will end up practicing with that sport for the duration of this section of the training.”

  “And what about the selection process? Boys versus girls?”

  Mrs. Southfire chuckled as murmurs went through the seated students. “As fun as that might be, no. The teams are going to be mixed and we’re all going to have fun. Any other objections?”

  Adelia looked around. Nobody raised a hand.

  “Alright, then,” Mrs. Southfire continued. “Now, while we will be playing basketball, it is very obvious that we will be playing what we call Gifted basketball. The rules are very simple. All rules of the sport remain applicable. Along with that, all skills are permitted—”

  “Even combat skills?” someone asked without raising his hand.

  “Yes, even combat skills, mister…”

  “Ezekiel,” he answered.

  “Mister Ezekiel. Yes, even combat skills,” she confirmed. “However, two rules apply to the combat skills. The first is that you are not allowed to deal damage to your opponents. I would assume that that is a no brainer. Basketball is a contact sport but it is not a combat sport. The second rule is that you are not allowed to use any skill that will affect that validity of the ball.”

  “What that means,” one of the men said, speaking for the first time, “is that you are not allowed to set the ball on fire or freeze it or make it heavier. Any skill that will change the quality and property of the ball is not allowed.”

  A boy raised his hand. It was Ezekiel again. “What of illusions, are we allowed to multiply the ball?”

  “As long as they are illusions, multiplying the ball does not affect the ball,” the man answered. “It is allowed.”

  Ark raised his hand. “What of misdirection?”

  “Like the [Illusionist] class does with illusions?” Mrs. Southfire asked.

  “No,” Ark shook his head. “I mean things like using a skill that should be deadly to scare someone into making a mistake. That is without dealing any damage.”

  Mrs. Southfire paused, stroking her jaw. “That’s actually an interesting use. If you can pull it off, then it is allowed.”

  Melmarc watched a mischievous grin split Ark’s lips and wondered what his brother had in mind.

  “Any more questions?” Mrs. Southfire asked.

  Silence followed her. In the end, she nodded. “Diret is going to pick out the people he wants to select their teams and we’ll toss a coin for the starters and go from there.”

  The selection process was smooth and simple, going without any problems. Diret seemed to pick students that were new. One was a boy Melmarc recognized from his class and the other was a girl he didn’t recognize.

  Then the students were split into two groups. The first group were existing members of the combat class, while the second group consisted of those who were not existing members.

  The rule was that each leader would take turns picking their team, first taking from the combat class, then the new group on their next turn.

  Ark, to no surprise, was taken first among Melmarc’s group. He had the height and the athletic build. He also had the confidence. Melmarc also had a feeling that he was already known. Ark had a good relationship with popularity, whether good or bad.

  Melmarc was the next to be picked, ending up on Ark’s group as well. Someone cracked a joke about how two brothers should not be on the same thing and everyone laughed about it. Even the stoic men cracked smiles.

  The coin toss was set aside since Diret agreed that his team would sit out for the first round. All in all, there were only three teams, each with only one substitute.

  “Alright, then,” Mrs. Southfire announced with a clap of her hands. “I will be the main referee, with support from,” she gestured to the men, “my assistants. I want a clean and fair game, is that good.”

  Heads nodded.

  “To your halves,” she said with a finality. “Have your pick for the tip off.”

  Melmarc and he team huddled up. Their leader was a boy, but they consisted of two girls and four boys.

  “Hi, I’m Justice,” he told them. “It would be nice to know everyone’s name.”

  “Isabel,” one of the girls said. She wore her hair up in a bun. “Second year, on the combat team.

  “Ark, second year,” Ark said. “Not on the combat team.”

  “Melmarc.”

  “Benny,” a boy Melmarc guessed was barely six feet said.

  The final member of their team, a girl with an eyebrow piercing spoke last. “Clarissa. I’m on the combat team.”

  Justice nodded, then took a moment to check on the other team. Melmarc checked as well and found them similarly huddled up. Mrs. Southfire was the spitting image of patience as she waited at the center of the court.

  “Now,” Justice said, returning his attention to them. “Positions.”

  “Power forward,” Ark said immediately. Then he tapped Melmarc. “Point Guard.”

  Everyone’s expression twitched at that.

  “Point guard?” Justice sought for clarification.

  Ark nodded, grinning confidently.

  “I also play point guard, though,” Clarissa said.

  Ark made a sharp sound. “That’s going to be tough.”

  “I’ll play center,” Justice said. “I played it a lot in my previous school.”

  Benny shrugged. “I’ll play anywhere.”

  “Me, too,” Isabel said.

  “Then Marc will play shooting guard,” Ark decided.

  All eyes settled on Melmarc. They were either waiting for his consent or wondering why Ark was speaking for him. Melmarc didn’t necessarily care which one.

  He simply nodded. “Shooting guard.”

  “That’s good.” Justice pulled away from the huddle, breaking it. “Ark, you’re jumping for us.”

  “Sure thing.”

  As everyone scattered into place, Justice exchanged a few words with Ark. Melmarc read his lips when he asked Ark if he was sure that Melmarc could play.

  Ark couldn’t have looked more confident when he confirmed that Melmarc could.

  I guess I’m still not carrying myself with enough confidence, Melmarc thought.

  The tip off was quick. Ark won it, tipping the ball over to Justice. Justice moved quickly, a little too quickly. It made Melmarc wonder if he was a [Speedster].

  He made his way to the arc of the opposing team only to pass the ball to Melmarc who was also outside the Arc. Melmarc caught the ball easily, bounced once, then passed to Clarissa.

  “No!” Clarissa exclaimed, a little too late.

  One of the girls on the other team, appeared in between them, intercepting the pass. She didn’t move quickly, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Someone in the audience chuckled when she grabbed the ball.

  From where she was standing, just outside her own arc, she lobbed the ball high, all the way to their net.

  Melmarc turned and found Ark struggling to catch up with a boy from the other team. He doubled back, falling into defense with the rest of the team.

  The boy with Ark blitzed, blurring into motion. He was gone from Ark’s side in the blink of an eye. High flying, he was already at their rim. The ball fell perfectly into his palm and he dunked.

  Ooh’s echoed from the bleachers as the score was updated.

  A few passes and dribbles later, the ball fell into Ark’s hands. He dribbled a few times, failing to get past the girl that was in his way.

  “You’re good,” he said.

  “Not good,” she retorted. “Better.”

  Ark cocked a cocky brow at that, then moved into a spin move. The girl approached only for a burst of flame to erupt between them, she leaned away from it. Realization dawned on her belatedly. When she moved to cover up, Ark was already gone, driving to the basket.

  A boy moved to cover quickly. Ark barreled into him, rising into a vicious onehanded dunk.

  Melmarc’s team was falling back when Melmarc activated a skill.

  [You have used skill Knowledge is Power]

  The mana burst out of him, just as the opposing team passed the ball inbound. They moved carefully, taking their time.

  The moment Melmarc watched the static mana flooding out of him encompass the entire court, he terminated its reach, pulling it back.

  It returned just as the boy, all the way from his side of the court, pulled into a jump shot. Melmarc watched his expression twitch for a moment before he shot the ball.

  He saw multiple people wince as the ball soared through the air, a high arching shot. It came down on their net. It bounced off the front iron of the rim, leaving a shocked expression on the shooter’s face, before finally falling into the net.

  That was three points, from across the court.

  The boy had a grin to offer everyone as Ark picked the ball stepping out. He had just solidified himself as a threat. Their game plan would have to be adjusted to accommodate him.

  The other members of his team were smiling.

  Frowning and contemplating their next move, Justice held his hands out for Ark to pass him the ball. Ark did not. Instead, he looked Melmarc dead in the eye and passed it to him.

  Melmarc caught the ball and turned.

  [Skill Knowledge Is Power is concluded.]

  [All stats are increased by +1.5.]

  [Life forms detected: 13.]

  [You have received 13 Potential buffs.]

  He didn’t bother looking through the list of skills he had received. He already knew what he wanted.

  Ark grinned and shock caressed everyone’s expression as Melmarc pulled into a jump shot.

  [You have selected Take It There.]

  …

  [Take It There (Mastery 25.09%)].

  The Gifted finds a way to get from one point to another.

  The basketball left his hand. It dropped into the net in a swish, a perfect shot that drew everyone’s attention to Melmarc.

  Silence settled on the court, and Melmarc hoped it was because he had upended what had been a shocking move with one of his own and not because they all realized that he was a [Faker].

  With the people he often had around him, it was easy to forget people’s dislike for the [Faker] class.

  A loud sound broke the silence as Ark burst into laughter, throwing his arm around Melmarc’s shoulder, jostling him as he did.

  He slapped him on the chest. “I knew you had it in you.”

  Melmarc nodded absently as his eyes settled on Mrs. Southfire. The indicator above her head was green.

  [Naomi Southfire (Doomer)(A)]

  Melmarc had never heard of the [Doomer] class. More importantly, what the hell was he going to do with the skill he had just gotten from her.

  [Skill Extended Kindness is in effect]

  [New buff detected.]

  [You have gained random buff.]

  …

  [You have gained skill Death of The World]