As the crowd slowly began to disperse, still murmuring about the announcement, Rin turned to Nariku and stretched his arms casually.
"Let's get a room at an inn," he said with a faint, unreadable smile. "Rest up, regroup. Then tomorrow, we go to this... school everyone's talking about. How about that?"
Nariku blinked, then nodded. "Yeah… sounds good. We've been through enough. A bed that's not made of dirt sounds like a luxury now."
Rin chuckled softly, then started walking. "We'll need to observe the village's structure too. Who runs what, where resources flow... schools, shops, power players—everything."
"You're already planning again, huh?" Nariku said with a slight smile, trying to lighten the mood.
"Planning is what keeps us alive," Rin replied, voice low but calm. "Especially in places like this."
They walked together toward the heart of the village, passing other survivors looking for lodging, shops, or simply trying to make sense of their new surroundings. And overhead, the strange symbols of the second floor pulsed faintly in the sky—marking the start of a new chapter.
Morning sunlight pierced through the window slats of the modest inn room. Rin sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, scrolling through his interface in silence. Beside him, Nariku groggily rubbed his eyes and sat up.
"So... today's the day?" Nariku asked, stretching.
Rin nodded. "Let's see what this so-called 'Player School' has to offer."
They left the inn, joining other players trickling toward the large building near the center of the village. Unlike the rustic wooden homes around it, the school looked like a fusion of stone and glowing runes—clearly a construct of the Tower, not something man-made.
Above the arched entrance, a floating sign read:
[PLAYER SCHOOL – FLOOR 2 SURVIVAL PROGRAM]
A few mentors stood at the entrance—some human, some distinctly not. One had goat-like horns and glowing eyes, while another looked like a hooded woman whose lower body faded into mist. The air was thick with tension and awe as new players filed in.
Inside, the students were led to a vast atrium, where a stage stood. Gorie, the loud barbarian who made the announcement yesterday, stomped to the center.
"Welcome, survivors!" he bellowed. "You all made it through the hell called the tutorial floor. Congrats! But don't get cocky. You're still weak, and this floor? It'll eat you alive if you stay stupid."
He pointed to the large rune board behind him.
"Each of you has a class. Each of you will join one of the six divisions based on that class. Your curriculum, quests, and team will revolve around it. And yeah—those who shine here? They get privileges. Better gear. Stronger skills. Access to inner layers."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Then the divisions lit up behind him one by one:
[Warrior Division] – For melee fighters and tanks.
[Ranged Division] – For archers and snipers.
[Caster Division] – For mages and illusionists.
[Support Division] – Healers, buffers, and tactical types.
[Stealth Division] – Assassins, scouts, and shadow operatives.
[Wildcard Division] – For all 'weird' or hybrid classes. High risk, high reward.
Nariku glanced at Rin. "You going with Shadow Scout then? That'd put you in Stealth, right?"
Rin smiled. "Mm, probably. But I'm more curious about this Wildcard group."
Nariku laughed. "You would be."
Soon, a guide approached each group and began escorting players to their division zones. Rin's eyes flicked across the other players, scanning for notable ones—veterans, hidden threats, unstable minds. This school wasn't just about learning. It was a hunt in disguise.
Rin stepped into the hall marked [Wildcard Division], where the air felt heavier—charged with something unknowable. Unlike the structured formations of other divisions, this room was arranged like a half-circle arena. The rune-marked chairs were mismatched, their designs inconsistent, like the people meant to sit in them.
Strange weapons leaned against walls. Some students had cloaks that flickered between colors. Others wore masks, or sat cross-legged on floating stones. There was no unity—only variance.
And Rin? He blended in perfectly.
His eyes scanned the room, sharp and calculating. And then they paused.
Tyuri. Slouched in the third row, arms crossed, his eyes half-lidded but wary as ever. That familiar mole near his brow made it unmistakable.
Rin let out a faint sigh. "So he ended up here too…"
He moved quietly, sliding into the seat beside Tyuri.
Tyuri tilted his head. "Didn't expect to see you in the chaotic bunch."
Rin offered a brief smirk. "I'm exactly where I belong."
Before Tyuri could respond, a subtle cold wind blew through the chamber. Shadows shifted. And then she appeared.
Serenya Vale.
She stood at the front—tall, slender, and almost ghost-like in presence. Her hair was pure silver, cascading down like liquid silk, contrasting sharply with the pitch-black armor etched with glowing purple lines. A violet blindfold wrapped around her eyes, yet she walked with perfect awareness.
Her voice was smooth, quiet, and cut clean through the room:
"Welcome… Wildcards."
Everyone fell silent.
"You are the Tower's unpredictable pieces. Ones that neither fit the mold nor play by rules. That makes you dangerous. It also makes you necessary."
She took a slow step forward. Her blindfold shimmered briefly.
"I am Serenya Vale. I will not train you to follow orders. I will teach you to weaponize your nature. To sharpen your unpredictability into something the Tower itself fears."
Tyuri blinked, clearly caught off guard. Rin, however, leaned back in his chair, arms loosely crossed, his interest piqued.
"Let's begin."
Serenya's voice echoed again—soft, but undeniable.
"Before you run off and get yourselves killed, let's discuss something far more vital than power."
She walked slowly in front of the seated players, each step measured.
"Information.
Power means nothing when you walk into a trap. Strength is meaningless when you fight the wrong battle.
Wildcards do not win by force. We win by knowing what others don't."
She turned toward the far wall, and with a motion of her fingers, an illusion shimmered into being—hovering midair like a ghostly projection.
Two gates appeared.
One was framed in fractured obsidian glass, pulsing faintly with warped reflections—the Mirror Maze.
The other was a massive arch of twisted roots and wild vines—the Forest Gate.
"This floor is divided into regions. The Mirror Maze and the Deep Forest are the two primary areas where resources and quests are found. Both are dangerous. Both evolve based on who enters."
She pointed at the Mirror Maze first.
"The maze distorts time, perception, and sometimes even your allies' appearances. Illusion, confusion, misdirection. Perfect for those who think they're clever—until they aren't."
Then her hand moved to the Forest Gate.
"The forest is alive. A network of monsters, strange flora, and shifting terrain. Some say it watches intruders. Others say it listens."
She let that linger.
"You'll be required to choose where to go for your first exploration mission. The more information you gather, the more value you bring to this floor. Maps, monster traits, environmental changes, anything. It all matters."
Rin narrowed his eyes. This wasn't just about fighting—it was reconnaissance. Misdirection. Planning. The kind of battlefield he preferred.
Serenya turned back to the group.
"You'll be given a briefing file. Use it wisely. Those who come back alive with knowledge will be rewarded. Those who don't… will be remembered."
Her lips curled faintly into what might've been a smile—or a warning.
"Class dismissed."
The illusion faded, and players began muttering among themselves.
Tyuri exhaled through his nose. "Guess this floor isn't going to be simple either."
Rin remained silent, fingers steepled as he stared at the space where the illusion had vanished.
"Perfect."
After class, the crowd thinned. Rin parted ways with Tyuri, quietly slipping through the bustling village paths. Wooden signs creaked overhead, each marked with symbols of different trades—blacksmiths, alchemists, tailors, and gear vendors.
He wasn't after weapons today. What he needed was… presentation.
The bell above the tailor's shop chimed as he entered. The scent of woven fabric and leather greeted him. Various outfits lined the walls—robes, cloaks, armor sets for different classes and styles.
A small elf woman behind the counter blinked up at him. "Wild Card Division, hmm? You've got the look of one who prefers subtlety over brute force."
Rin didn't answer. His eyes scanned the racks.
Eventually, he settled on a set displayed in the far corner:
A long obsidian-gray coat with deep crimson lining, light enough to move in but sleek with reinforced stitching. Paired with it was a dark vest, fingerless gloves, and a half-cowl scarf that could cover the lower half of his face if needed. Subtle metal hooks lined the coat's interior—ideal for hiding tools or throwing weapons.
He changed silently in the dressing room, then looked into the polished mirror.
Gone was the simple scout uniform from the tutorial.
Now, Rin looked more like a strategist—or a ghost walking in plain sight.
"A new floor, a new face."
He paid with the leftover gold he'd earned in the previous battle. As he stepped outside, the scarf flared behind him in the wind, and shadows laced the narrow streets beneath his boots.
Somewhere in the distance, bells rang from the village's central plaza. The second floor was waiting.
And Rin Kyougi had just stepped into it fully.
The tailor's mirror was tall and silver-framed, its glass slightly fogged at the edges, distorting the flicker of candlelight. Rin stood before it in silence.
The clothes fit too well. Almost like they'd been waiting for him.
A sharp black coat flared softly around his legs, cinched just above the waist to give it a slight, dramatic spread with every step. The hem fluttered like smoke. Underneath, a tailored suit clung to his frame—a deep charcoal with satin lapels, darkly elegant. A narrow silk cravat rested beneath his collar, faintly blood-colored in the right light.
He lifted one gloved hand, fingers flexing. The right glove had no tips—exposing pale fingers, deft and still. Perfect for drawing cards. Or pulling strings.
A thin silver chain wrapped around one wrist, almost like a conductor's bracelet.
Rin adjusted his hair with a flick—sleek and jet-black, parted to the side with just enough tousle to keep the sharp angles of his face visible. One strand slid past his cheekbone. He didn't fix it.
He met his reflection's gaze.
Black eyes. Still and unreadable. But behind them—something shimmered. Like flickering candlelight dancing on water. Calm, yet alive. Calculating.
His lips curved just slightly.
"Looks about right."
He turned from the mirror, the tails of his coat sweeping with a ghost's grace, and stepped back into the village streets. People passed him without recognizing him. They wouldn't. Not like this.
Rin didn't walk—he moved like a stage was beneath him. With the silence of someone who was already ten steps ahead.
And tucked beneath his new sleeve, hidden from sight, the Card of Mania pulsed faintly.
The performance was far from over.
Hairu glanced toward the figure with the striking new appearance—sharp black suit, pale face hidden behind a silver mask. He whispered to Yokuta and Natsuro, "Have you ever seen someone dressed like that around here?" Both shook their heads, eyes narrowing in curiosity.
The silent figure caught their gaze and slowly reached into his pocket. Without a word, he flicked a single card—the Joker—toward them. The card spun lightly in the air before vanishing just as mysteriously as he did, slipping away like a shadow melting into the crowd.
Hairu frowned, unsettled but unable to place why this presence felt so different. "Who was that?" he muttered.
But no one knew—the mysterious stranger left no trace, and Rin's new guise concealed him perfectly, his dangerous nature hidden behind quiet, controlled calm.
Hairu narrowed his eyes as he watched the masked figure disappear. "Did you see that? Who is that guy? I've never seen anyone like him in the village."
Natsuro shook his head, frowning. "No idea. But that card… the Joker? That's a strange message. Could be a warning or a taunt."
Yokuta folded his arms, glancing around cautiously. "He didn't say a word, just that one card and vanished. Feels like he's playing some kind of game."
Hairu rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "If he's here, it's not by accident. Someone with that kind of presence usually means trouble."
Natsuro glanced at Hairu. "Do you think it could be one of those… players with hidden powers? Maybe someone we should watch."
Yokuta nodded. "Yeah, we can't afford to ignore this. Keep your guard up."
Hairu cast one last look toward where the figure had been. "I'll keep an eye out. Whoever that was, they're not here to make friends."
Rin stood silently on the rooftop, the evening breeze teasing the edges of his sleek black coat. His sharp eyes scanned the village below, the flicker of torchlight casting shadows that seemed to dance with his own dark aura.
A soft voice broke the silence beside him.
"You look like you're having a blast, newcomer," Serenya Vale said with a knowing smile, her presence calm yet commanding.
Rin glanced at her briefly, noting the effortless grace as she floated just above the rooftop edge. "If you're going to scheme," she continued, "you'll need to be careful. This area is heavily protected by the guild."
Her smile lingered, both a warning and an invitation.
As she drifted away like a shadow carried by the wind, Rin's mind echoed with her words. That's good advice... but why would she help me?