I Awakened the World's Worst Class, Then Became Unstoppable

Chapter 10: Coming For Him

"Dude." Felix was walking beside him, fascinated. "What if it's one of those things from the novels? You prick your finger on it, blood activates it, it picks you as the master—"

Ethan gave him a look.

"What?" Felix scratched his head. "I read things."

He sobered after a step. "Real talk, though. Fifteenth of the month, they bus us out to the academies. You still haven't picked one, right? What are you going to do?"

Ethan considered it. Combat Academies only took combat Classes. Support Classes—Teachers, Chefs—had their own schools. Farmer had been awake once in a hundred and twenty years. Nobody had a curriculum for him. His grades were perfect. His Class was a joke. The two didn't cancel.

"I'm staying in Jiangnan," he said. "Farmer, remember? I want to try and actually grow things."

Felix was quiet for a block. Then he tapped his wrist comms.

Ethan's own device chimed.

Incoming transfer: $200,000.00. Account ending 3344.

"What are you doing?" Ethan stopped walking.

"Boss." Felix wouldn't meet his eye. "I wouldn't be here if you hadn't pulled me off a dumpster sophomore year. You know that. That money's been my allowance since I was a kid—saved it all up, never touched it. I know you won't take it as a gift. Think of it as a loan. Think of it as seed money. You make it big, you don't forget me, yeah?" He looked up, sheepish. "Rare Classes cost money to start up. You'll need it. If you run short later, you call me. No questions."

Ethan looked at him. His thumb hovered over the refund button. Then he dropped it. Felix would just send it again, and he'd spend the next year taking out loans at twelve percent to pay it back anyway.

"Fine," he said. "I won't forget you."

He clapped Felix's shoulder, and they kept walking. The night air in the Outer District smelled like dust and distant rain. Somewhere a dog barked.

Felix followed him back to the Outer District.

He looked at the row houses, the dirt yards, the sagging fences, and his face fell. "You still live here? I heard the scouts are dropping like flies out there. The city's talking about abandoning the outer fence entirely. You should move. Mid District, at least."

"Cheap rent." Ethan led him through the gate. "When the vegetable money stabilizes, I'll upgrade. There's wasteland beyond the high-voltage line I've been looking at, anyway."

Then Felix saw the plastic sheeting. "What's that?"

"Soil. Seeds. Stuff I got on Awakening. Come look."

Ethan ducked inside. Felix followed, got one look at the green plants packed into the square meter of dark earth, and his jaw dropped.

"No way. You grew this already?" He turned on Ethan. "Wait. My dad was at the dinner table last night, ranting about the Exchange. Fresh vegetables. Rich people bidding six figures. A single cabbage went for—"

He stopped.

He looked at Ethan's face.

"No way."

"Yeah," Ethan said. "Way."

Felix sat down on the dirt. "A million dollars. A cabbage."

"Common vegetables. Nothing special about them. They're just scarce. When the supply catches up, the price dies. This is the honeymoon."

He pulled a bag of produce out of storage and pressed it on Felix. "Take some. Don't tell anyone. Not your parents. Not your new Longhu friends. Not anyone."

"Boss, this is too much—"

"You gave me twenty years of allowance. Stop being polite."

Felix took it. He looked dazed for the rest of the walk to the door. "Do they, uh, do anything? Eat them, get stat boosts?"

"No. Just vegetables. Nutritious. That's all."

"That's still not cheap." Felix shook his head. He wasn't jealous. He was relieved. His friend had money now. In a world that killed weak things before breakfast, that meant something. He held the bag a little tighter on the way out.

Back at the Rose, the party had broken up the moment Ethan and Felix walked out.

Brandon stood on the sidewalk outside, his face black as a storm.

"That son of a bitch. And Chen too. I'm gonna kill them both."

One of his boys—they all had a name for it, the crowd of hangers-on that followed Brandon like ducks—leaned in. "You actually gonna let that stand, Brandon? The guy's a useless Farmer. No combat Class. Two bodyguards from your house walk over there and it's done."

"He stole your girl in front of you."

"That's not you, man. You're gonna take that?"

"If it were me, I'd teach him a lesson."

"Outer District's a war zone. Aberrations tunnel in all the time. If a guy like that dies out there? Nobody asks questions. Nobody traces it back to you."

Brandon's temper was already a kettle. The boys just held it over a flame.

"Fine," he said. "I'm calling the house. Two of them. Tonight. Let that piece of garbage learn not to show me up."

He made two calls. He gave the orders. He felt better. Better still when he thought about Ethan's face when the door came off its hinges—the look on his face when he realized who'd sent the men, and how little anybody in the Outer District would care.

"Drinks," he announced. "On me tonight."

The crowd whooped and swarmed him down the street, already yelling for the next bar. Brandon let them carry him. The weight of the night had lifted. Tomorrow he'd send a fruit basket. The day after, he'd apologize to Michelle in public. The day after that, Ethan Su would be a story people told about the Outer District and its bad luck.

Fifty meters away, hovered in the dark, a black vehicle sat almost invisible against the sky.

Michelle Liu watched the whole group go.

The driver glanced over. "Miss. They're going after Ethan. Should we—"

"Let them." Her voice was cold. "He humiliated me in front of the entire room. A scare won't hurt him."

She let the silence sit.

"But the necklace. Send someone. While the White family's men are busy, take it."

The driver didn't ask twice.

In the dark, Michelle's eyes were not cold. They were colder.