Arthur's vision blurred with rage, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest.
Ryker. Ray. Everything they'd taken from him.
Everything they still held over him.
"I'll make you regret it. Both of you."
The humiliation in the gym, Ryker's smug face, the condescension — it was just another reminder that the world wasn't fair.
But Arthur wouldn't stay down.
James's sharp gaze lingered on Ryker, the air around them awkward.
"Ryker, why did you do that? You clearly made him upset." His voice was low but laced with disappointment, each word like a cold blade in Ryker's stomach.
Ryker fumbled for words, forcing a grin. "Captain, I didn't mean to. Really—"
James's head tilted slightly, his eyes darkening. "Do you take me for a fool, Ryker?"
The gym fell eerily silent.
Ryker's breath caught, and the air suddenly felt heavier. James's gaze was no longer the warm, friendly look he often wore—it had turned predatory, chilling.
Reminding him of who, James truly is.
The two girls standing beside Ryker flinched, exchanging uneasy glances. They had never seen James . He was always the composed, approachable captain—until now.
Why? Why was he acting this way over someone like Arthur?
Ryker's cocky demeanor shattered under James's stare. His blood ran cold.
"S-Sorry, Captain…" Ryker's voice cracked. He swallowed hard before lowering his head. "You're right. I did it on purpose."
James's expression didn't shift. He was still waiting.
"Arthur and I… we've got history," Ryker confessed, his fists clenching. "Family issues. We never got along as kids. It's always been ."
James's eyes remained hard, unmoved by the excuse.
Ryker, desperate to justify himself, added, "But Captain… I'm part of the main team. I have a A-Rank talent—one of the strongest here! Even if it's considered on the weaker side of A Rank."
"But Arthur? He's weak. Powerless. Why does it even matter?"
James exhaled softly, but his words hit like ice. "Weak? Powerless?" He stepped closer, towering over Ryker now. "Ryker… Arthur is part of the First Class dormitory. He's First Class."
The words felt like a slap.
Ryker's jaw slackened. "What?"
James's gaze hardened further. "You heard me."
"No… That's impossible!" Ryker's voice rose in disbelief. "Even I'm Second Class! How could he—Arthur—be First Class?!"
His voice echoed in the gym, disbelief and rage boiling inside him.
He refused to believe it.
Arthur? That weakling?
There had to be a mistake.
But the cold certainty in James's eyes told him otherwise.
Arthur was First Class.
And for the first time, Ryker felt something gnaw at him—an uncomfortable, bitter sensation in his heart.
Ryker's thoughts spiraled out of control.
His heart pounded, his fists trembling at his sides.
The realization stung deeper than any wound.
'Jealous… of Arthur?'
His mind flashed with images—Arthur, the homeless, weak boy who used to flinch under his shadow.
The same boy he tormented at family gatherings, mocking his frailty, and his soft demeanour.
And now—now—that same Arthur was in First Class whilst he was second?
His teeth clenched hard, his jaw twitching in fury.
'How did he get there? What kind of trick did he pull?'
The girls beside him shifted uncomfortably, sensing Ryker's rising anger, but Ryker barely noticed.
His mind burned with twisted thoughts.
'I was the strong one. I had the connections. I worked for this.'
And yet… here he was—seething.
A low, bitter laugh escaped him, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears.
'No. This isn't over.'
His eyes flicked toward the gym entrance, where Arthur had left moments ago.
'I'll find out how you got there, Arthur. I will prove to everyone, that I'm better than you. I've always been better than you.'
What hurt Ryker's ego the most was that James—the captain, the only known S-Ranker in the entire country—had clearly placed more importance on Arthur than him.
The weakling. The orphan. The kid he'd bullied his whole life.
And now, James—the very man Ryker had worked so hard to impress—was siding with him.
It was a bitter pill to swallow.
He had spent months climbing the ranks, proving his worth, pushing past every other Beta player just to get closer to James's inner circle. He had done everything right—trained harder, fought longer, crushed anyone who stood in his way.
Arthur had taken his spot.
Ryker clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms.
"Captain," he said, forcing his voice to stay steady. "How is he in First Class? Even I have an A-Rank talent—though on the weaker side—and I only made it to Second Class."
His voice cracked with frustration as he continued, "Does he have a higher-grade talent than me?"
Jameslooked at him for a moment, then shook his head. "No. He doesn't."
Ryker's heart lifted slightly, but then James's next words hit him like a truck.
"But he has something else."
Ryker's brow furrowed. "Something else?"
James's eyes narrowed slightly, watching Ryker's every reaction. "He's a dual-talent."
For a second, Ryker's brain refused to process it.
"What?" he finally spat out, voice laced with venom.
"Arthur has an A-Rank talent and a C-Rank talent," James replied, his voice calm, almost indifferent.
Ryker's entire body stiffened.
His mind spun with rage. Dual-talent was rare—so rare that only a single player was known to have it, in the entire country. Even then, the person had two B-Rank talents. Not an A-Rank and a C-Rank.
Dual talent was the golden ticket, something that instantly elevated a player's worth in the military's eyes.
And Arthur—the pathetic weakling—had it?
'I worked my ass off for this.' Ryker, the calm facade cracking outside.
'I trained harder than anyone here! And he—gets a free pass because of some bullshit luck?'
The two girls standing nearby exchanged nervous glances, sensing the storm brewing inside Ryker.