Gorgeous. Intense. Domineering.

  With a striking lock of red hair, dressed in torn jeans and a T-shirt, the girl with her hands on her hips was nothing short of mesmerising. Her two attendants, standing with stoic expressions behind her, provided the extra oomph to her aura.

  She then scanned the inside of the chamber with a look of sheer disdain, as if breathing the very same air as the rest of them offended her.

  And when she walked in, her polished heels clacked on the floor with deliberate, unhurried steps. Like a supermodel, cat-walking on the runway, strutting her stuff with such sheer confidence. As though the world itself belonged to her and not the other way around.

  Furthermore, she didn’t acknowledge anyone. She didn’t need to. Her presence alone was enough. It was as if she silently declared, ‘I’m here now. Deal with it.’

  Even Jin himself was smitten by her entrance and presence, finding it impressive despite her looking no older than twenty years old. But a tinge of slight worries crept into the back of his mind. What if Eleana acted the same way, too?

  Hopefully, it wasn’t the case, else all the lessons he taught her on humility and respect would be wasted. And if that were ever to happen, his late wife would haunt him in his dreams.

  Sorry, dear. I’m a lousy teacher and shitty father, after all.

  While Jin was stuck in his internal struggles, the others also found it hard to stay in their senses.

  The researchers froze mid-task, their fingers hovering over holographic screens. The SeComm officials straightened, their eyes narrowing in recognition of her presence. Even Timothy, who had been bouncing on his heels earlier, went still with open mouth.

  Instructor Cho pinched the bridge of his nose, but there was no real frustration in his voice. Only the resignation of someone who’d seen this act before.

  “Finally decided to grace us with your presence, Lady Emilia?”

  She didn’t even look at him; her gaze locked onto the Mother Lodecrystal, then flicked toward the woman Instructor Cho had spoken to earlier. “Surprised to see you here, Prof Mille. Did my father send you?”

  No answer came. After a brief, heavy silence, Professor Mille waved the red-haired girl away without ever peeling her eyes from the screens.

  “Humph! Whatever.” The girl looked around, then strutted toward the Mother Lodecrystal. “Let’s get on with it then.”

  However, the one who was supposed to be next in line had different ideas. “B-But it’s my turn now.”

  Without missing a beat, the red-haired girl pushed the next student aside. “Now, you’re second. Any complaints?”

  Murmurs filled the class. Yet, Jin didn’t care about the red-haired girl one bit. He’d seen her ilk before – his late wife’s family was full of them. Brats who thought the world revolved around them. Some have bites, sure. But their barks would deafen even a dragon’s roar. And if that failed, they’d resort to bullying.

  Emilia was no different. She looked like another name in the long list of spoiled princesses who’d never heard the word “no.”

  And the best outcome for Jin was to not get involved with her at all. It didn’t matter who she was, her Class, or what her CP was.

  “Whoah! 60,000?!” Timothy’s fanboy-ish scream filled the chamber. “T-That’s amazing!”

  Everyone was stunned into silence. Even Instructor Cho could only shake his head, while Dr Lee was more interested in the data on his tablet than the person who’d created it.

  “Amazing?” The red-haired girl shot a glance at Timothy. Her lips quirked – not quite a smile, but the kind of expression that made it clear she found his words amusing if not outright pathetic. “You’re young. Still, you have good eyes. Yes. I. AM. AMAZING.”

  She turned away and strode off the platform without another word toward the exit.

  “Emilia van Lowenhald.” Professor Mille’s cold voice cut through the silence. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “We’re done, right? So why should I stay with all these… these…”

  Emilia glanced around the room, her gaze landing on Jin. His black face mask became the object of her sudden, inexplicable ire. She gestured in his direction immediately.

  “Look at him. Face mask? Here? He’s more of a weird pervert than someone who’s sick. And you want me to breathe the same air as him?

  Before anyone could answer, Jin let out a low, deliberate chuckle. Loud enough to piss Emilia off even further.

  She stomped toward him. “You think it’s funny?”

  “Why, yes.” Jin tilted his head. “Are you a comedian?”

  Forget about him not wanting to get involved. He knew how to play this game. Too well, in fact. Courtesy of his experience with his late wife’s family. And judging from the way Emilia carried herself, he reckoned she’d be the same – a little substance but still with too much bluster.

  Emilia, in her anger, grabbed Jin by the collar. The room held its breath, bracing for the worst.

  “Do you know who you’re speaking to-”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.” Jin’s voice sounded almost bored. “Now, will you let me go?”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Emilia, in her rage, raised her arm. This was the moment Jin had waited for. As the slap came down, he grabbed her wrist mid-motion, turned his back against her, and flipped her onto the floor. Her petite frame landed with a soft thud. A simple judo move executed to perfection.

  Her two attendants rushed forward, but Jin was quicker. A gentle tap to their ankles sent them toppling to the ground beside their mistress.

  “Ganging up on a sickly man?” Jin peeled his black mask halfway down, just enough to reveal the smirk beneath. “For someone with 60,000 CP, you sure are… what do we call those who are defeated? Losers?”

  Emilia’s face burned. “W-Why you?! T-That’s not how-”

  “Enough!” Professor Mille’s voice cracked like a whip. “All of you! This is a sacred place. If you want to fight or make love, do it elsewhere.”

  “B-But he hurt me!”

  “You attacked first.” Jin fixed his mask. “I’m only defending myself.”

  “I said enough!” Professor Mille’s face was devoid of expression, but her tone brooked no argument. “Emilia. You stand there. And you-” She pointed at Jin. “Take the evaluation next.”

  Jin didn’t mind. He’d love to get it over with as fast as possible and go home. A glance at the others, however, told him everything else.

  “Why should I go next? There are already others who are waiting for their turn.”

  “So, I can kick the two of you out once you’ve done yours. Move it before I shut this whole place down!”

  Yet, when his first result came out, Jin was urged to retake it. Twice. Thrice. By the fourth time, the result remained the same. Despite the earlier threat of kicking Jin out, Professor Mille compelled him to stay.

  “Zero CP?”

  She mulled the result, her fingers tapping nonstop on her tablet. The other researchers who noticed their boss’s interest stopped their work mid-motion, then gathered around. Once they saw the data, their excitement turned to horror.

  “No data?” one of the researchers asked, his voice trembling.

  “We have data,” Dr Lee replied, shaking his head. “But it’s all zero.”

  “This cannot be,” another muttered. “We’ve never recorded anything with zero before. Even normal people have at least some CP, even a single digit.”

  Emilia, who had been watching the commotion with smug amusement, chipped in unsolicited. “That’s because he’s abnormal. A creep. A weak, weird creep.” She turned to Jin, who had been forced to stand beside her as punishment. “Am I right, Mr Zero CP?”

  Jin didn’t react. He’d long since stopped caring what people like her thought.

  ***

  Despite the altercation, the class continued. And Jin, after a few more failed attempts at reading his Combat Power, was finally allowed to leave. Before he knew it, nighttime had already arrived.

  But along the hallway on his way out, Emilia was waiting for him. Alone this time with her attendants nowhere in sight.

  “You.” Her voice, although still sharp as usual, lacked the earlier bravado. “What are you trying to play at?”

  Jin cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “Are you playing dumb?!”

  He didn’t say anything. Instead, he brushed past her.

  Emilia wasn’t having it. When her arm reached for him, Jin ducked. Although this time, it ended differently.

  Instead of throwing her to the floor, he pinned her to the wall, his forearm against her throat, his knee parting her legs wide enough to keep her still. To avoid her screaming, he covered her mouth with his free hand.

  She thrashed, but his strength was too much for her.

  “Look, lady.” His voice was low and calm. Almost whisper-ish. “I don’t know what your problem is with me. Is it my CP?”

  A single, muffled nod.

  “Then what you see is what you get. No tricks.” He leaned in. “Anything else?”

  Another nod.

  “What? My face mask?”

  Emilia shook her head at first, but midway, she nodded. Then she shook her head again.

  Jin sighed. Make up your damn mind, already.

  “Are you the type that hates when people wear masks around you?”

  Emilia went rigid.

  Bingo. His experience with noble families had taught him well. He hadn’t thought it would come in handy like this.

  “Since I arrived in Neo-Tokyo, I have problems everywhere I go with my look, alright.” His voice softened. “But if you insist…” He paused for a while, his finger started to peel away the mask. “Promise me one thing, will you?”

  After a hesitant nod, Jin took his face mask off.

  The sight of his face turned Emilia’s cheeks pink. But she said or did nothing else after that. Leaving her alone, Jin exited the building as fast as he could.

  The cool night air hit Jin’s face as he stepped outside, the hum of the city replacing the stagnant air of the Combat Power Evaluation Chamber.

  “Finally, some fresh air. That place is definitely a pressure cooker, alright.”

  Jin stretched his arms. Right on cue, his stomach grumbled. When did he last eat?

  Across the other side of the road, opposite the SeComm’s HQ building, was a row of yatai stand. The scent of sizzling yakitori and ramen broth filled with umami wafted toward him, making his stomach growl even louder.

  “Might as well grab some dinner before going home.”

  As he was about to cross the road, Bahamut’s voice sounded in his head.

  “Is that the human mating dance, Jin?”

  Jin tripped over his own feet but managed to steady himself against the traffic light pole, its ‘Walking’ sign still blinking.

  “The hell, Bee?” he cursed under his breath. “You surprised me there. What mating dance?”

  “What you did with the girl earlier?” Bahamut sounded quite amused. “I had watched it on the device you call television. Flirting, they called it. Are you interested in her?”

  “Hell no.”

  Jin mumbled his words out loud. He glanced around the street, and luckily, no one paid him any mind. Not yet. He then ducked into the nearest alleyway, fearing the risk of being caught talking to himself. Or worse, some might send police on him mid-telepathic conversation and his already long day would be longer.

  “Of all the things you focus on, you choose mating dance?”

  “I am merely interested in how human procreate. Continue existing. That is all. Are you not interested in that?”

  Jin facepalmed himself. What kind of show had Bahamut been watching behind his back?

  “If you ask me what I’m interested in right now, there’s this one little thing.”

  “Speak.”

  “Why the hell do I have zero Combat Power?”

  “Combat Power?” Bahamut scoffed. “What is that?”

  Jin explained what he’d learned in class, then repeated the question that had been gnawing at him. “So, why is mine zero after all that trouble? Is my power messed up? Or did you mess up, Bee?”

  “Humans,” Bahamut’s voice turned serious. Annoyed. “How could you evaluate the System when the System itself does not want to be evaluated?”

  Jin frowned. “What are you talking about, Bee?’

  “Combat Power – or whatever you humans call it – is your invention,” Bahamut said in a dismissive tone. A tone that he never used until tonight. “Not the System’s, which was created solely for your world. And your power, Jin, which is my creation, is the very antithesis of that System.”

  After that, Bahamut said nothing else. And Jin, who didn’t want to muddle his mind further, asked no more.

  One thing was certain, though.

  The little caterpillar inside his pocket was all the proof he needed that he was no longer powerless. Cattleya, the Thousand Year Caterpillar he renamed – now in her mini form – had been with him throughout the whole class.

  And when Emilia had nearly slapped him, or when she was about to grab him in the hallway, Cattleya had been ready to burst out and devour the girl whole. Or shroud her in an unescapable cocoon or something.

  Fortunately, Jin had managed to control his summon. Things hadn’t gotten any worse than a simple misunderstanding.

  Otherwise, he’d have been in one of those rooms with Professor Mille and her researchers, doing God-knows-what experiments on him. Thinking about that sent a shiver down his spine.

  Jin reached into his shirt pocket, gently patting Cattleya’s tiny form.

  “Catt?”

  “Y-Yes, Master?”

  Her soft, gentle yet hesitant voice brought a much-needed smile to Jin’s face.

  “Let’s get used to each other.”