Wade followed Calista down a stone corridor that ran deeper into the Lion's Guild's building.
The air cooled with each turn, and the sounds of the busy hall faded behind them.
They passed two guards in blue and gold tabards, then another pair in full plate, then a third squad posted before a thick iron-banded gate.
What looked like runes glowed faintly along the gate's seams, but Wade couldn't tell if the runes were actually functional or decorative.
From what he'd seen in this body's memories, the gate could be an item, which would make the runes decorative, since the gate didn't really need them to function.
But it didn't stop the gate from looking intimidating.
It looked less like a door and more like a vault.
"Standard clearance." Calista said.
The nearest guard stepped forward. His visor hid his face, but his voice held no doubt. "Hands out. Weapons, items, contraband."
"I'm clean," Wade said, lifting his hands.
"Everyone says that," the guard replied.
Another guard waved what looked like a wand over Wade's sleeves and down his sides.
A third guard patted him down and checked his boots.
Calista stood beside him and let them do the same to her, unfazed.
The wand found nothing on Wade, but it buzzed at a pouch attached to Calista's belt.
"Coins," she said flatly.
The guard opened the pouch, grunted at the coins inside, and let it fall back.
"Clear," said the wand bearer.
The heavy bars slid back with a dull scrape. The gate rumbled open.
Calista nodded to the guards and led Wade through.
Beyond the gate laid a wide chamber with a high ceiling.
Torches burned in brackets along the walls, their light steady and white.
At the center of the room floated a cube, each face as smooth as a mirror, each edge true and even.
It hung at chest height with no chain or stand. It turned on a slow axis, reflecting the room and the people in it from six angles at once.
Wade stopped without meaning to. On the surface of the cube was his reflection.
White hair. Purple eyes. Tall, yes, but thin to the point of shame.
He looked like a scarecrow dressed in a man's clothes.
His shirt sagged. His trousers clung to bones instead of muscle. His face had sharp angles, his skin tight over his cheekbones. His wrists looked brittle.
'This is what I came with,' he thought. 'But this is not what I'll keep.'
"The Awakening Stone." Calista said from beside him, gesturing at the cube.
"It will read your soul and assign your class, and with it your origin skill. Place your hand on the surface and hold it until it finishes."
Wade nodded at her words. His hands shook. He hid them by clasping his fingers, then let them fall loose again.
'Do it,' he told himself. 'No more fear.'
He stepped closer until the cube's cold reflection was the only thing within his vision.
He could almost see the pores in his skin. The lines of hunger at the corners of his mouth.
He lifted his right hand and placed his palm flat on the mirrored surface.
It was cool to the touch, almost soothing.
The metal, if it was even metal, did not give.
His breath fogged the face for a second, then cleared.
Ding!
A bell tone rang in his ears.
Golden letters rose into the air in front of his eyes as if written on the air itself.
[Unawakened detected…]
His chest grew tight.
Another line appeared.
[Cataloging life experience…]
His pulse thudded in his throat. He wanted to swallow but his mouth had gone dry.
The letters shifted again.
[Dimensional soul detected.]
[All requirements met.]
The words vanished. It was as if all sound had been sucked from the room.
Wade blinked. He glanced at Calista.
She watched him with a small smile on her face, saying nothing.
'Was that it?' Wade thought.
Ding!
He was startled by the sound again.
More text flowed into existence in front of him.
[Class Unlocked: Dimensional Merchant]
[When others fight for scraps, you trade for worlds.]
[Growth Per Level: +5 Stat Points.]
[Bonus: +100 Unassigned Stat Points.]
Wade stared, breath caught halfway.
A hundred unassigned stat points? He had never heard of such a thing.
Not in all the talk this body's previous occupant had heard about adventurers in the cold alleys.
Ten extra points would be a gift. Twenty would be a legend. A hundred felt like a mistake that might vanish if he blinked too hard.
'Is this good, or am I about to be hunted for it?' The thought came fast.
The letters faded once more. He did not have time to chase the next thought before new text formed.
[Generating Origin Skill…]
[Please wait…]
A thin ring of light circled his wrist where it touched the cube.
It wasn't hot. It wasn't cold. It felt like nothing, which somehow made it more strange.
Ding!
[Origin Skill Acquired: Dimensional Ledger]
[Records all trades made by the user, tallying profit into cosmic value. Profitable exchanges generate rewards in the form of Dimensional Dungeon Keys, granting access to hidden dungeons across various dimensions. Debts or losses increase dungeon difficulty.]
Wade read it twice. Then a third time. The words did not change.
His throat loosened and then tightened again.
He knew what an origin skill meant. Everyone did. It was the one thing no one could take from you. It was the root of your path. Skills you could use without any requirements.
'Trades become keys,' he thought. 'My own dungeons. Not theirs. Not regulated. Not taxed by Right of First Refusal. Private gates that no guild can lock.'
'If they knew this…' He did not let the thought finish. He had no wish to see himself dragged into a back room and made to talk.
Or worse, slammed with an even more restrictive contract that would hand his dungeon keys to the guild or something.
But with this origin skill, he was basically a one man guild. He could sell his loot from his personal dungeon and make enough to buy out his contract!
That was when Calista spoke, jarring him out of his thoughts.
"Dimensional Merchant, huh?"