Chapter 17 interview (2)
After drawing a vial of dark, sluggish blood, the Four-Eye Nerd didn't place it in a medical tray. Instead, he poured it into a shimmering, metallic slot built into his desk—a sacrifice to the System. He waited, his eyes darting back and forth as he scrolled through invisible notifications only he could see.
His expression shifted from boredom to a twisted, condescending sort of amusement.
Four-Eye Nerd: "It's true. The System won't sync with you. Something is acting as a parasitic interference... something is blocking the System's authority over your soul."
Fighter remained silent. Seeing this, the administrator assumed the "slum rat" was simply too uneducated to understand the gravity of the situation. He leaned back, lacing his fingers together.
Four-Eye Nerd: "I forget, you are a rat from the gutters. You lack the basic common sense of our world. Let me 'educate' you, you ignorant, foolish slum-spawn."
Fighter: "By all means, Oh Great Four-Eye Nerd. Bestow your heavenly information upon me so I may bask in your infinite glory."
The sarcasm was thick enough to choke on, but the administrator ignored it, relishing the chance to hear his own voice.
Four-Eye Nerd: "Listen well. Because of the First Hero, Rendolf, we know that the power of Stories works on a principle of 'Give and Take.' Your Book was granted to you by a Source. Based on your blood, you are a Generation 0—a Natural Story Bearer. While they were common in the past, a Gen-0 is hardly found these days."
He tapped a rhythm on the desk, his Aura flaring with a hint of pity.
Four-Eye Nerd: "Furthermore, your Book, Spawn of Scrap, is unknown in the Human Unified Territory. There is no Blood family who will help you with resources or research a new path for you. Others have dynasties backing their growth; you have nothing. Without luck, you will be stuck as a Chapter One Noberry forever."
Fighter's eyes snapped to the administrator's face. He didn't look devastated. He looked bored.
Fighter: "Are you done? Seriously, just shut up. You talk, talk, talk... do you ever actually work? Do you see me looking sad? Do you see me hopeless because I can't 'ascend' your little ladder? No. I don't give a fk. Do your job properly and move me along, you fking Four-Eye Nerd."
The administrator went momentarily speechless. He had expected the boy to be crushed by the news that his "Story" was a dead end. He didn't realize that Fighter already knew the road would be painful—and he was going to walk it anyway.
A sharp ping echoed in the room. The administrator cleared his throat, his face turning a sour shade of red as he checked the final System update.
Four-Eye Nerd: "Your registration is... complete. Follow that guard to your examination room."
Fighter: "Exam? What the hell? I thought the UCA took any Story Bearer under twenty. Why the sudden test? I hate exams."
Four-Eye Nerd: "Tough luck."
Fighter: "I'm not doing it. Besides," Fighter crossed his arms, leaning back with a defiant smirk, "I'm illiterate. I can't even read the questions."
The administrator offered a cold, predatory smile.
Four-Eye Nerd: "Don't worry about that, young man. We are fully aware that you are... less educated. There is no shame in it; learning has no age limit. We will do our absolute best to 'educate' you."
Fighter: "Why do I feel like I'm about to be punched in the face?"
Rechel: [Because you are. 'Education' in this place usually involves bleeding. I am excited. Ok.]