Ronan sat on the exceptionally comfortable bed while thinking about how to best go about his gorzerk hunt. He lay down again, wanting to feel the unbelievably soft mattress against his back. It was even comfier than the prison bed, which was saying something. That rubbery alien material was like heaven, but this alternate-timeline human bed was a heaven among heavens.

His desire to grow stronger overturned his desire for comfort. Ronan jumped off the bed. Not being in contact with the fluffy luxury would help him focus.

There were a few paths available to him. The first would be the easiest, but also the most callous. He had done some awful shit ever since he had first been integrated into the system, some of which still haunted him, but he wasn't sure he could do it to humans. Even if they weren't necessarily 'real.'

Because that first path was to just slaughter everyone inside this place. The shapeshifters would die, but so would plenty of innocent people.

Ronan wasn't going to do that, as efficient as it would be. Maybe as a last resort, but I really don't want to. Instead, he would try something a little more cunning. He needed to get better at strategic thinking and fighting, so he would turn this tutorial stage into a lesson of sorts.

Instead of going wild and primal on the fuckers, Ronan was going to lure the gorzerk into a trap, baiting them into feeding on someone and then slaughtering them with violent prejudice when they revealed their true, monstrous nature.

That way he could avoid suspicion from the other inhabitants of this fortress. He might even cement his position as a warrior-slash-saviour among them. Goodwill went a long way to overturning suspicion of a stranger. Then again, not all the people here were suspicious.

Beom Seok was scarily friendly to Ronan despite meeting him a few hours ago. Many other people embraced him with warmth as they had walked to this building he now called his own. It had to be the abbot's influence. Another religious leader. This is disturbingly similar to the sewer encampment. That damned priest. He was a pretty nice guy, to be fair. Religion is just creepy.

Ronan had decided not to go all-out and slaughter everyone, which meant he needed to use a different method of flushing the shapeshifters out. He decided to go for a walk and explore this new environment. The white metal fortress was beautiful in a strangely dystopian way.

He left the house that was his and walked out into the cavern that the fortress was built into. Admittedly there weren't that many sights to see with how space-efficient the place was—everything was a metal cube, essentially. Sightseeing wasn't the only purpose of his walk, however, so Ronan didn't mind. He started winding through the paths that cut between the residential structures.

It must be really fucking boring living like this. Besides the anxiety of having shapeshifters among you, there's nothing to do except survive. It made him thankful that humanity hadn't been quite so moronic as to cause a nuclear winter in his own reality. The system had arrived instead…

There were some industrial areas of the fortress, such as where meals were prepared and other important tasks were done, but Ronan avoided them. The highest concentration of people was there, and having too many witnesses ran counter to what he was attempting. He found an out-of-the-way corner of the fortress and sat down. He held out a hand and started to practice shaping mana bolts.

About five minutes later, a person turned the corner. When they spotted Ronan they did a double take, before an expression of concern appeared on their face. Before that, they had smirked. It was so brief that most people would have missed it, but not Ronan. When the person approached, he let the mana bolt in his hand condense—no one at this level would be able to sense it until he sent it flying.

"Are you alright? You're the new guy, right? Were you looking for the canteen? You went the wrong direction. Come with me, I'll show you." The person held out a hand for Ronan to take. Their friendly guise was perfect. Too perfect.

Ronan grabbed their hand with his empty right, letting them pull him to his feet. As he stood up, he felt them pulling harder, yanking him towards their torso. He watched as the man's mouth opened and then unfurled, revealing a hideous maw ringed with teeth.

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He tossed his mana bolt right down the gorzerk's gullet.

The creature let out a hideous screech as it was torn apart by the explosion of mana. The mana bolt alone might have finished the job, but Ronan wasn't taking any chances. He conjured a dagger and slashed across the monster's throat. It dropped to the ground in a heap of burning flesh.

You have killed [Lesser Gorzerk Lv.12]!

+125 Copper Credits

+Lesser Gorzerk Hide (Uncommon)

+3 [Mana VI] Mastery

+2 [Dagger I] Mastery

+6 [Perception II] Mastery

You have leveled up to Lv.5!

…

You have leveled up to Lv.10!

+90 Vitality

+90 Endurance

+12 Wisdom

+12 Intelligence

+18 Acuity

+120 Charisma

+330 Luck

+1986 Free Stat Points

Congratulations for reaching Lv.10!

You have unlocked Class Selection!

You have unlocked 428 special classes due to your achievements

You have not unlocked any special classes due to your heritage

You have unlocked 3 special classes due to your race

You have unlocked 73 special classes due to alternative methods

Please select a class from the following:

Fighter (Common)

…

Gambler of Fate (Celestial)

Ronan had been prepared for another legendary class, perhaps a mythical at most. His accomplishments at a mere level 10 exceeded what practically anyone in the multiverse should be capable of. Although I have absolutely no clue what kinds of monsters are out there, so who knows. Yet somehow he had managed to obtain a class that went beyond even his most recent dao child evolution.

A celestial class.

Ronan chose it without even reading the description. It would be worth it even if he died in the next ten seconds, because he would get another chronos merit.

You have selected [Gambler of Fate (Celestial)] as your class!

Initiating class infusion…

His body started to spasm and twitch. His muscles locked up, but his mind realised what was happening way before his body. The blessing and curse of now having a lightspeed nervous system.

Then came the pain. His body began to break down. In under a second he melted, going from a human to a pile of fleshy goop. Somehow the pain persisted through that, as did his consciousness. The world became nothing but agonising torture.

Ronan wanted to scream but he didn't have a mouth. Or vocal cords. Or anything vaguely human. Something unknowable crashed down from a higher dimension and filled his soul with burning power. It twisted and writhed, like sentient threads of something greater than mere mana or stamina; beyond his soul.

He thought he had experienced the worst pain imaginable. Then his body started to reconstruct itself from the molecular level. Each new connection was a fresh spike of indescribable pain.

Ronan attempted to ignore it and try to force his mind to shut down. It refused. The pain continued. It blurred into an eternity of agony that he felt he might never wake from.

Then came relief.

Class infusion complete! You have become a [Gambler of Fate (Celestial)]!

You have received the class skill [Wager of Fated Potential (Celestial)]!

Wager of Fated Potential (Celestial): The Gambler of Fate may put their very potential on the line in a grand wager with the multiverse and the fates. They must designate a desired outcome for their wager and put up a portion of their future potential as collateral. If they succeed in reaching their chosen outcome, the rewards of said outcome will be multiplied by a scaling factor determined by the amount of potential they put on the line. If they fail, that part of their future is torn away and claimed by the fates.

You have received the class skill [Luck of the Devil (Heavenly)]!

Luck of the Devil (Heavenly): In a clash of fates, those with greater fortune will often emerge victorious, even if the odds are seemingly stacked against them. Those who are smiled upon by the fates often defy the odds in absurd ways, but do not envy them, for the luck of the devil is often paid for in the most final of currencies; the soul itself. The rare few who avoid paying the ultimate price are among the most powerful, infamous, and wealthiest in the vast multiverse.

The class skills were lengthy and sounded ominous. Yet Ronan was pleased with them. The first one moreso than the second. The first had clearly defined drawbacks and benefits. It sounded like something he could make use of. And he suspected he had a lot more 'potential' than most, given his ability to endlessly return to life. I can probably abuse that, somehow. The thought brought a smile to his face. Ronan loved scamming the system.

The second just sounded scary. He liked his soul. He didn't know what would happen if it suffered serious damage. It was one of the few ways of dying that he was genuinely terrified of, because he had no idea if it would carry through to the next life.

Having hastily taken the class, he realised it was probably a good idea to see what the other benefits were. The easier to understand ones, like stats and multipliers. I probably should have done that first…

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