Ashe laughed, suddenly, spoon raised half to her mouth. Cereal spilled back into the bowl.

“Ashe! Careful,” their mother warned.

“No, it’s just, did you see? Rowan posted on the quest board.”

Rowan stood abruptly, pushing his chair back. He snatched up the toast, putting a slice in his mouth. “Thanks for breakfast, mom. Gotta go.”

His mom wrinkled her nose the same way Ashe did. “Rowan did what? Where’d he find the capital to post rewards for a quest?”

“No, no, get this—he isn’t hiring a quest, he’s gathering a party for one. And not just any quest.” Ashe giggled, relishing it.

Rowan shoved his feet into his shoes and pushed the door open.

“He’s… what? Rowan!”

“A Tower Climb, at that! Can you believe it?” Ashe laughed.

His mother’s face went pale. She tensed. Real fear shuddered through her, eyes wide, lines of her neck standing out. “Rowan, get back here! Rowan! You’re a support class! You’ll die! Even combat classes can’t take on the Tower!”

He ran out onto the street. Turning back, he shouted, “Next time we meet, I’ll be rich and famous!”

His mother charged for him. “Don’t be delusional! Being a Gardener isn’t all bad. There’s no need to throw your life away!”

Rowan spun on his heel and sprinted away. Even with his soccer, it was hard to stay ahead of his chubby mother, who he’d never seen run until this moment. He gritted his teeth and pushed on, faster. Level eleven is level eleven, even if she’s a support class.

“I’m not throwing my life away, Mom! I’m going to do it! I’m going to take on the Tower!”

“Don’t be stupid! Get back here!”

He whirled around a corner onto a busy street and ducked through the passerby, darting left and right around other pedestrians. His mother quickly fell back, unable to keep up with his rapid turns.

“Rowan!” she shouted after him.

“Sorry, Mom!” He waved, then whirled and ran off, vanishing into the crowd.

A huge square came up ahead of him, full of combat classes. Easily identified by their weapons and armor, they chatted and laughed with one another, glancing over the quests posted on the scrolling digital displays.

Three major displays towered over the citizens below. One showed quests from the System: clearing out an exclusion zone, raiding a dungeon, killing a certain number of mobs. One or two quests on the board listed a boss monster’s spawn date and the general area of their spawn. The second displayed quests from the government. Many related to quests from the System: clearing specific areas of exclusion zones, helping evacuate citizens from boss spawn areas or providing disaster relief during and reconstruction services after the boss event, clearing monsters the System stopped tracking who’d escaped exclusion zones. The third board scrolled rapidly, the liveliest of the three boards. Quests from ordinary citizens scrolled over this one: pleas for help rooting out monsters from someone’s basement, a business looking for large quantities of ghost-stone drops, a little girl who’d lost a baby doll in an exclusion zone.

The first two boards offered lucrative rewards: EXP, money, even rare items or equipment. The final board offered fewer rewards, mostly things ordinary citizens could prepare. Some gave services or trinkets, others yielded money, while others specified no reward except for clout, items, and EXP attempting the quest would offer.

Rowan checked his own posting on the online boards. Still active. Meet in the southeast corner of Quest Square… all good.

Tower Climb party requests didn’t appear on the public boards, but the Quest Square was a popular spot for parties to meet. To his left, a man in steel armor and a woman in blue robes huddled with their heads together, whispering to each other.

“If no one else shows up…”

“Just wait. Someone will bite. We’re high enough level. People want the loot.”

“Don’t you think everyone high enough level has already challenged the area?”

“We haven’t. There’s got to be someone else.”

Rowan glanced at them and smiled.

The girl met his eye and flinched away. “Don’t look now, but there’s a support class looking at us. I hope he doesn’t want a free ride.”

Scowling, Rowan harrumphed and turned away. A free ride? No, I just want a party! Damn combat classes, always looking down on us.

The sun crawled across the sky. The combat-class duo gained a woman in light armor, and left, happily chatting.

Rowan squatted in the corner, fanning himself with one hand. Sun beamed down, harsh despite the impending end of summer. Ignored. Guess I can’t be too surprised. Who wants a support class on their team, anyways?

A shadow blocked out the sun. “Oh my gosh, is that Rowan?”

He cringed before he even looked up. A girl in heavy makeup and dyed blonde hair, her shorts too short to be seen under her baggy t-shirt, stared down at him, hand over her mouth in mock-surprise. A bow and quiver peeked over her shoulder, hinting at her new class.

“Hey, Kaytlen,” he sighed, already tired.

“Oh my gosh, like, are you seriously here? I thought you were a support class! What the heck would a support class do in the Quest Square, though? They’re totally useless!” She giggled, tossing her head slightly so her hair flipped from one side of her head to the other.

“Kayt, you find someone worthwhile?” another familiar voice asked.

“Worth a laugh!” she replied.

Terry appeared over her shoulder, brows raised. At the sight of Rowan, he smiled slowly and wrapped an arm around Kayt’s shoulder. “Wow, look who it is.”

In the three months since school ended, he’d grown much larger. Rowan remained in a crouch, but he was sure if he stood he’d only reach Terry’s chin. Muscle bulged over every possible dimension of Terry’s body, his slender physique gone, replaced by bulk. A fake tan gleamed in the sun, matching the radiant color of Kayt’s own skin. He grinned predatorially at Rowan, canine teeth bared. “Enjoying your garden?”

“I see you’re enjoying yourself,” Rowan returned neutrally, squinting up at them.

“Always used to look down on us trash, didn’t you. Us outcasts. Well, where’d that get you, valedictorian? How much did the System care about all your studying? Or your soccer skills, did they do anything for you?”

“What about your sleeping-in-the-back-of-class skills, how are they working out for you?” Rowan asked, grinning ferally.

Terry spat at him. Caught in his crouch, Rowan couldn’t dodge in time. It splattered over his hair, thick and sticky. “The System looked deep in your heart, and found trash. It’s all you ever were, but now everyone knows it.”

Wiping the spit out of his hair, Rowan sighed. “It’s sad. No matter how much the System elevates you, you’re still jealous of me.”

He didn’t see Terry’s foot fly out until after his head snapped backward.