Light returned slowly to the Party’s dormitory, and Charlemagne awoke along with it. The other three members of his Party were still asleep, making varying levels of noise. Sirius was the quietest, with the steady rise and fall of her chest making almost no noise. Ndiogou was in the middle of the pack, his deep breaths whistling as air flowed through his nasal passages. Phatagin was somehow the loudest, snoring so loudly that the rooster wondered how the other two could sleep through it.

  Drawing on his early life experience to tune out the ambient noise, he turned his attention inward. Although the rest period had been rather short, he felt refreshed. Perhaps it had been the influx of levels, or maybe it was the fact that his Attributes made him far tougher than any pre-System Earthly creature. Whatever the case was, he felt ready to face both the day and the pending messages that he had from the Squiggles. So, without further hesitation, he reviewed them.

  The first was about the enforced rest period.

  The good stuff arrived next.

  The rooster spent a few moments quietly contemplating his Special Ability choices. He was a little annoyed that he had not gained any Skill levels, but seeing as he had only used one attack during the event, that was understandable. Each of the three options seemed powerful in their own right, and it did not take a genius, thankfully, to understand the benefits that they offered him.

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  The first, Any Mana of Mine, would enhance his mana regeneration and allow him to create stronger shields and mana-based attacks. The fringe benefits were also good: he had yet to encounter a foe that could steal his mana, but he very much did not like the sound of fighting something that could drain his energy away.

  The second Special Ability, I Lost the Blueprint, seemed to be ideal if he wanted to continue down the path of fighting by strengthening his body with mana. It was, generally, the most efficient way for him to take down weaker foes, and this upgrade would further increase his power and efficiency. The thought of this Special Ability causing his Veins of Lava skill to evolve into something even better was also very nice.

  Finally, The Duality of Rooster was a terrific-sounding Special Ability. While Charlemagne had yet to truly face a foe that he could not injure, being able to damage creatures with impervious defenses was tempting. Weakening his foes with every attack would make his efficiency during drawn-out battles go up, but Charlemagne rarely fought only one opponent for any length of time. Still, against powerful Bosses like the Bald Bull, this would be an ideal Special Ability.

  Not knowing which to pick, Charlemagne sat and thought for a few minutes. He was leaning in a particular direction but he wanted to see what the others thought. Despite their inferiority, they did sometimes have valuable insights. Unfortunately, they were all still asleep…

  Charlemagne, as a rooster who grew up in Francophone West Africa, did not call out “cock a doodle doo”. Instead, he screamed out “Cocorico!”

  In the other three corners of the dormitory, the rooster’s cry engendered an immediate response. Ndiogou leaped from his bed, a throwing axe materializing in his hand while he was still in the air. Sirius startled herself awake and flailed for a moment, her limbs tangled up in her bedding. And, from within Phatagin’s tree trunk, there was a loud thud and a muffled curse.

  The Party was awake.

  “Bawk,” Charlemagne announced.

  There was a stunned silence as the Party processed what Charlemagne had said.

  “You want us to help you pick a Special Ability out?” Ndiogou said, perplexed. “Those choices are usually pretty personal. Why don’t you just pick the one that you like best?”

  “Bawwwk,” the rooster complained.

  “You can’t like them all the same,” Sirius barked.

  “Mathematically, that is improbable,” Phatagin added, his voice muffled somewhat by the tree.

  “I’d be happy to give my opinion, but I think I need to wake up first and grab a bite to eat. What if we have breakfast and then come back here to discuss,” the human suggested.

  “Bawk,” the rooster agreed hastily, but then added, “bawawk bawk.”

  “I beg your pardon?” the pangolin asked. “You’re not…you’re not hungry? Just who are you, good sir, and what have you done with our leader?”

  “I’ve never known you to skip a meal, what gives?” Sirius asked.

  In response, the rooster fluffed up his feathers and roosted even harder.

  “You…you don’t know, do you?” Ndiogou asked after a moment.

  “Bawk,” the rooster admitted.

  “Well, I’ll tell you what,” the human said. “Why don’t Sirius and Phatagin go grab breakfast first? I’ll go when they get back.”

  “Why don’t we all just stick together,” Sirius asked, confused.

  “Because I don’t trust Charlemagne not to disappear the moment we leave for breakfast,” Ndiogou said with a shrug. “I’m not saying that you’d do it on purpose, but you do have a habit of wandering off, you have to admit.”

  “Bawk,” the rooster responded.

  “I cannot believe that you are denying it,” Phatagin laughed, although there was more than a trace of indignation in the sound. “You literally did that yesterday to us.”

  Charlemagne’s roosting intensified.

  “Listen, Ndiogou will stay here and you can explain your Special Ability choices to him. If you guys can’t figure it out by the time Phatagin and I get back, we can all weigh in. Does that sound good?” Sirius suggested.

  “Bawk,” the rooster answered, before disappearing once again.

  “Again?” the three other Party members moaned in unison, before making a plan to search for their prodigal leader.

  Charlemagne, on his part, reappeared in the same room as before, when he had first been brought to the Systemic Games. The same plush green sofa, the same creature with too many eyes and appendages behind a desk that seemed to blend the properties of hardwood and fungi together.

  “Welcome back, Competitor, or, should I say, MVC! And not just a local MVC, no no, we have here a genuine regional MVC. Oh, all the other baryonic lifeforms must be so jealous of you right now. But, no matter, they are them and you are you. And we’re here to talk about you, aren’t we? So let’s get right down to it. I have a once in a lifetime, incredible offer for you. But before we get to that, I see here that you also reached wave 40 in the Individual Battle Simulator. Ah, but you didn’t beat Ehuud, how sad. You would have gotten an extra reward if you had defeated him before the first event. But no matter, no matter. No one has even beaten him before the first event, and I doubt that anyone ever will. And there is still a nice reward waiting for you if you can defeat him before the second event. Just don’t tell anyone else I told you that, because I will deny it! Ha, I’m just kidding! I’m sure that anyone would believe such a snazzy dresser like yourself over little old me. Well, anyways, about that offer. Are you ready to hear it?”

  The rooster’s head spun as he tried to follow along with the strange creature’s manner of speech, which was far too rapid and far too voluminous for Charlemagne’s tastes. He spent a few moments absorbing the key points of what the being behind the desk had covered before answering.

  “Bawk.”

  “Excellent, excellent. You know, I don’t just make this offer to any old creature, no I would not. It’s only regional MVCs that get this chance, you know, and there are precious few of those, precious few. Only a couple thousand or so all in all, but again, don’t tell anyone else I said that. Well anyways, I’m getting sidetracked. Let’s talk about that proposal, why don’t we? How would you, like to…”

  The being behind the desk paused for a moment and leaned forward, its voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper.

  “Move to the Elite Systemic Games?” the being concluded before leaning back and steepling several sets of appendages together and smiling smugly at the rooster.

  “Bawk?” Charlemagne asked.

  “Well, you know, the Elite Systemic Games are just like the Systemic Games, only the Competitors are stronger on average and the rewards are greater. There is even a grand prize that will blow your mind, but I can’t tell you about it unless you accept. So, what do you say, do we have a deal? Do you think you have what it takes to succeed in the big leagues? What’ll it be?”

  Feeling immense pressure to choose at that instant, it took all of Charlemagne’s will not to blurt out an answer on the spot. But he took a moment to compose himself before asking a follow up question.

  “Bawk?”

  “Well, that’s the rub, ain’t it. Only Competitors who are powerful enough on their own merits are invited to the Elite Systemic Games. Sometimes we get all or part of a team, but most of the time we only draft individuals. But don’t worry, we’ll give your teammates a nice consolation prize and then send them back to…let’s see, where are you from? Ah, here it is, Earth. Yes, sir, they won’t go away empty-handed.”

  Charlemagne hesitated for a long moment as he strove to make up his mind. This was all very sudden and he had just woken up. It didn’t seem fair to ask him such an important question before breakfast. Torn by indecision, the rooster waffled back and forth for quite a while, before suddenly finding the answer he’d been looking for.

  “Bawk,” was his confident response.