My whole body jerked as the attributes vanished. Had I just chosen a glass cannon build when my life was on the line? When I didn’t even know if it was sustainable?

  The memories were hazy now, contrasting with my near-perfect recollection of everything else. I knew it had felt like the perfect plan at the—

  Fragment lurched further in the corner of my vision, then floated over to prop up its cracked side with a desk. We were running out of time.

  I could always start fixing the build with whatever points I got at level two. The first level would probably be the safest anyway, so full DPS might let me blitz through it, anyway.

  That vision helped calm my panic and tied in with my next set of choices.

  A simple glance was enough to see that this was some kind of grouping mechanism for various activities in the System. Clicking through to my highest affinity gave strong hints about how they would work.

  Skills were common in many of the RPGs I’d played back in the day, and I could guess at how this was going to work. Like in an MMO, I should be able to learn various skills through practice.

  Each skill likely had a level, though I couldn’t be sure at this stage, and I would progress faster through the levels with an experience bonus. They should also have a base effect, which was again multiplied by the affinity bonus.

  Taking my hypothesis to the logical conclusion, a high [Mystic Arts] affinity would make me more accomplished at and a faster learner of every magical skill.

  That should minimize my difficulty, regardless of my starting type of magic, helping me get my firepower online faster—a critical advantage given my earlier questionable choices.

  If I wanted to double down further, the information I was looking at might even provide an opportunity to cheat the System a little.

  If Skilled, 3/7, in Utility represented my years in college, my Master’s Degree, and three years of work experience, then what would level four or five be? The potentials were incredible; I had to see at least how far I could reach.

  The first thing I did was drop each affinity except for [Mystic Arts] to the minimum value. I could always increase them later if I had spare points, or if the results were disappointing.

  This left me with fifteen points: Seven from my current positive affinities, five from dropping everything to level -1, and three from my floating points.

  I tapped through again to see the difference, and winced at the result.

  Rough, though potentially doable for those I wasn’t going to use. I doubted I’d have much interest in [Prayer], after all. I could make the final decision after seeing how many points I needed for [Mystic Arts].

  I hurried to jam my points into said affinity. As expected, the first three points brought it up to Skilled. Then, it started to get expensive.

  The fourth level, Master, cost me two points to bring me up to 250%. Next, the fifth, Grandmaster, cost me three points for %400. Finally, I had to use five of the remaining seven points to reach the sixth level.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  While the cost was high, it was one I had no trouble paying. 600% was a seven times multiplier, adding that to learning speed and effectiveness was insane.

  Beyond the numerical benefits, the description was clear about it being a level of talent I’d barely dreamed of before. Only a single level from the maximum possible talent at all, if I was reading this right.

  There was no way I’d turn that down, even if it led to inconveniences elsewhere. Such as in the affinities, I couldn’t afford to pull back out of Deficient.

  I could only pick two, and I quickly knocked [Combat] and [Prayer] off the list. With everything already in a fighting affinity, I needed to focus on some support.

  The first choice was easy, and I immediately bumped up [Gathering]. I still needed to eat and drink; I’d need to find potable sources of both. Further, I hated the idea of leaving any valuable materials I ran across behind.

  My second choice was between [Crafting] and [Utility], both of which were tempting options. While [Crafting] would synergize well with my material gathering, the potential for setup requirements in terms of tools and designs concerned me.

  [Utility], on the other hand, sounded like a catch-all for skills that didn’t fall into one of the other categories. That might limit its value, or it could hold tons of high-value options.

  Faced with so many unknowns, I focused on what I could offload onto someone else. I could trade with a crafter, while [Utility] might have skills I needed to use myself. Choice made.

  My excitement grew when I saw that the following screen was Class Selection with a currently empty list of names and rarities. As risky as this path was, I expected my combination of high [Intellect] and [Mystic arts] to produce some solid options.

  I leaned forward as the first option appeared, followed by the second and a third. Soon, the names were scrolling by so fast I could barely see them, and my excitement turned to alarm, then panic.

  Forget finding the best class out of this, I’d be lucky to find anything decent in time if I had to click through all of this.

  At least the bottom page listed Apprentice Wizard, Journey Wizard, and Master Wizard all together, along with duplicates of different classes. I could probably assume that the Rare Master Wizard was better than—

  “Rising Alarm: This one is afraid we must accelerate things, Ethan Parker. May it filter the list for you?”

  I snapped my head toward Fragment, then glanced away just as fast to avoid the light bursting from its seams. Fuck, I'd gotten too caught up in affinities while it was suffering.

  “That’s possible?” I asked, desperation edging my voice. I was good at information retention, perhaps incredible with my [Intelligence], but Fragment looked close to failure—whatever that might be.

  “Rising Alarm: Correct. Energy is required, which this one can gain by sacrificing the lesser options.”

  “Do it,” I responded without hesitation. Removing low-quality options alone would have been beneficial. “Can you filter by the highest [Mystic Arts] requirement? Then by highest [Intellect].”

  “Rising Alarm: Understood.”

  A second cable erupted from Fragment’s other shoulder, the first still holding its side. The flexible limb shot toward the screen in front of my face, and it was all I could do to hold still.

  An instant before Combat, an inch-long spike burst from the tip, doing nothing for my nerves. Before I could react, it stabbed into the Class Selection screen and halted.

  The clean interface shattered as Fragment made contact, reforming into shifting patterns of arcane glyphs.

  They flowed across the screen for long seconds as I shifted my feet, glancing at Fragment in concern whenever I could bear the light.

  “Urgent Alarm: This one has filtered the list to five high-quality options. Each requires Master level affinity and fifty [Intellect].

  I winced, a question bursting out before I could think better of it. “Only Master?"

  "Urgent Alarm: You lack the other requirements for most higher affinity classes. If maximising the affinity requirement is essential, there is a class that this one could force through.”

  “However, this one would need to cannibalize the other five to gather enough energy to trigger Induction Lenien.”

  “Right,” I muttered, tapping my foot as my mind raced. This Induction Leniency was probably to get around a requirement that would be impossible for a newly inducted world.

  Locking myself down to a single, unknown class was yet another risk in my long list. I doubted Fragment would have left things so vague if it could provide additional information, leaving me to guess at the right choice.

  Taking full advantage of my massive affinity expenditure made sense, and it seemed reasonable that any class at that level would be bad. The idea of breaking into a class I shouldn’t have access to was also tempting.

  Finally, it would save me from having to weigh up five options in a snap decision. Sometimes, having fewer options was better.

  “Do it.”

  The list flickered back into existence, displaying a single class: Prodigious Apprentice, rarity advanced. I rushed to open it, then slammed the confirm button without reading the information.

  The details could wait; At a minimum, I knew there was still my starting magic to select. That was something I couldn’t afford to lose at that point.

  The screen shifted, revealing another list of Starting Items options, which was far shorter than the last.

  A Grimiore was the only thing I qualified for; I only waited a breath to see if there was anything else before I opened it.

  Inside was a simple interface, with a selection of three spell names: Arcane Bolt, Arcane Shield, Arcane Strike.

  Fragment’s glow was now bright enough to wash out the colors of the screen, sending odd ripples through the interface.

  Something about the reflections sent primal terror surging through me, and I rushed to select Arcane Bolt and Arcane Shield with a single glance.

  I clicked one final confirmation, then almost collapsed in relief when no more screens appeared. “That’s it, Fragment. Do whatever you need to do.”

  “Eternal Thanks: Transitioning to strike zone.”

  Fragment flickered forward at astonishing speed, still listing to one side in a blaze of orange light.

  I had to squeeze my eyes shut against the glare and then further shield my face with a hand as two thin cords wrapped around me.

  Something heavy forced my off-hand open in the same instant, almost falling out before I reflexively gripped it.

  Then, there was a noise like distant voices chanting, a shudder of motion, and then everything went still.