The Tower Resource Bureau building sat three blocks from Dublin Tower.
It was modern glass and steel construction that looked out of place among the older brick buildings surrounding it. Governnt money had built this while leaving the rest of the neighborhood to rot.
Jas walked through the front doors into a lobby with polished floors and white walls. Everything was clean and bright and cold. Signs pointed to different departnts: REGISTRATION, LOOT APPRAISAL, CURRENCY EXCHANGE, LEGAL SERVICES, GUILD LICENSING.
He followed the arrow to REGISTRATION.
The office was a large room with plastic chairs arranged in rows and numbered counters along the far wall. About twenty people were waiting. Most looked eighteen or nineteen, fresh Tutorial survivors still processing what they’d been through. A few were older, maybe in their twenties, and they looked annoyed at having to wait.
Jas took a number from the dispenser on the wall: 47.
The board above the counters showed they were currently serving number 31. He sat in a plastic chair and settled in to wait. The room slled like disinfectant and floor polish.
A girl two seats over cried quietly while her mother rubbed her back. A boy near the window kept opening and closing his status window as if he couldn’t believe what it said.
Jas watched without expression and waited for his number.
The board updated to 32, then 33.
The lobby doors opened and the noise level in the room shifted. People turned to look. Whispers went through the rows of chairs.
Jas glanced toward the entrance and saw why.
A man walked in and people noticed him imdiately. He was tall and broad-shouldered with grey showing in his dark hair. His suit probably cost more than Jas’s rent for a year. He walked like he had no reason to hurry for anyone.
Marcus Hale. S-rank Challenger. One of the strongest in Ireland. Leader of the Erald Spire Guild.
Behind him walked Finn.
Jas recognized him imdiately from the Tutorial. The sa tall fra, the sa flat expression. Finn wore expensive casual clothes now instead of blood-soaked armor, but his face carried the sa look it had when he’d knelt beside Liam’s corpse.
The whispers got louder.
"That’s Marcus Hale’s son."
"The one who just survived the Tutorial?"
"Of course he survived. Probably had private tutors his whole life."
"So people get everything handed to them."
"Born into the Erald Spire Guild. So lucky."
Finn’s expression didn’t change. He walked to the number dispenser and pulled a ticket without looking at anyone. His father followed close behind with his hand on Finn’s shoulder.
They sat in the front row. Marcus pulled out his phone and started making calls. His voice carried across the room as he talked about guild business and Floor clearing schedules and loot projections.
Finn sat beside him and stared straight ahead at nothing.
The board updated. NOW SERVING 39.
Three more people went through the registration process. Nas, dates, classes, signatures, photos, ID cards.
NOW SERVING 42.
Finn stood when his number was called. He walked to counter three while his father followed. The clerk behind the bulletproof glass typed without looking up.
"Na and date of birth."
"Finn Hale. August 3rd, 2112."
She typed. Marcus leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.
"Tutorial completion date?"
"March 18th, 2130."
"Class?"
"Berserker."
The clerk’s fingers paused for half a second when she saw the na Hale on her screen, then continued. "Uncommon tier. Sign here." She slid a tablet through the slot. Finn signed without reading the form and slid it back. A printer ran behind her.
"Hold still for photo."
Finn looked at the cara. Flash.
The clerk pulled a plastic card from the printer and slid it through the slot. "Your official Challenger ID. You’ll need it for loot sales at any governnt buyback or private auction house. Replacent is two hundred dollars, so don’t lose it."
Finn took the card without looking at it and turned to leave.
The lobby doors burst open and three reporters rushed in with caras and recording equipnt. They must have been waiting outside. The security guard tried to stop them but Marcus waved him off with a satisfied smile.
The reporters moved around Finn before he could reach the exit. Caras pointed at his face while microphones extended toward him. Marcus stepped back with his arms crossed.
"Finn! Finn Hale! Can we ask you a few questions about your Tutorial experience?"
Finn stopped walking but didn’t turn around.
"How was the Tutorial? What was it like for soone from a top guild family?"
Finn stared at the wall and said nothing.
"What was the hardest part? Did you encounter any major threats?"
His expression stayed completely blank.
"Were you scared at any point during the seventy-two hours?"
The lead reporter changed approach. "Your father leads one of Ireland’s top guilds. Will you be joining Erald Spire now that you’ve completed the Tutorial?"
Finn stopped breathing for a mont.
He turned around slowly and looked at the reporter. Then he looked directly at the cara. His expression was blank but his eyes were sharp.
"No."
The word ca out flat and final. He offered no explanation.
The waiting room went completely silent.
Marcus’s smile disappeared. His face went red and his jaw clenched. He stepped forward and grabbed Finn’s arm hard enough that his knuckles went white.
"We’re leaving. Now."
He pulled Finn toward the exit while the reporters tried to follow. Marcus turned on them with a look that stopped them where they stood. He pushed through the doors with Finn in tow and they disappeared outside. The reporters looked at each other, then went after them.
The waiting room broke into whispers.
"Did you hear that? He said no."
"Marcus Hale’s going to be furious."
"That took guts. Saying no on cara like that."
"Or stupidity. Who turns down Erald Spire?"
Jas sat in his plastic chair and thought about what he’d just seen. He’d fought beside Finn in the Tutorial. Watched him split goblins in half with a battleaxe. Saw him kneel in exhaustion covered in blood after the fight ended. Heard him speak maybe ten words total during the entire seventy-two hours.
He’d never known Finn was Marcus Hale’s son. In the Tutorial, Finn had just been another survivor trying not to die.
The board updated. NOW SERVING 43.
A guy around Jas’s age sat down in the chair beside him a few minutes later. He was well-dressed in expensive casual clothes, with a clean haircut and shoes without a scuff on them.
He glanced at Jas and nodded. "First ti registering?"
Jas nodded back.
The guy extended his hand. "I’m Daniel. I just finished the Tutorial yesterday."
Jas shook his hand briefly. "Jas. Sa."
Daniel leaned back and crossed his legs. "What class did you get? I pulled Fla Mage. Rare tier, so not bad."
"Necromancer."
Daniel’s eyebrows went up and he let out a short laugh. "Necromancer? Seriously? That’s got to be the edgiest class I’ve ever heard of. What do you do, walk around raising skeleton armies and brooding?"
Jas’s expression didn’t change. "Sothing like that."
"I bet that’ll go over well with the ladies." Daniel grinned. "Nothing says romantic date like ’hey baby, want to see my collection of animated corpses?’"
Jas stared at him without responding.
Daniel’s grin faded when he realized the joke wasn’t landing. He cleared his throat and went back to his phone. "Well, uh, good luck with that I guess."
Jas went back to watching the room.
Across from him, a girl in ripped jeans and a faded band shirt stared at her number ticket. She had no parents with her and no expensive clothes, and she looked like she had co through the Tutorial the sa way Jas had.
She glanced up and t his eyes for half a second before looking away.
The board updated to NOW SERVING 44 and Daniel stood and walked to counter four. The clerk behind the glass typed without looking up.
"Na and date of birth."
"Daniel Chen. January 22nd, 2112."
She typed. "Tutorial completion date?"
"March 18th, 2130."
"Class?"
"Fla Mage."
The clerk typed for a mont. "Rare tier. Sign here." She slid a tablet through the slot. Daniel signed it with a flourish and slid it back. A printer ran behind her.
"Hold still for photo."
Daniel looked at the cara. The light burst and he blinked.
The clerk pulled a plastic card from the printer and slid it through the slot. "Your official Challenger ID. You’ll need it for loot sales at any governnt buyback or private auction house. Replacent is two hundred dollars, so don’t lose it."
Daniel took the card with a smile and imdiately held it up for a selfie as he walked back to his seat.
The board updated to NOW SERVING 45, then 46. Two more Challengers went through the sa routine of nas, dates, classes, signatures, photos, and ID cards before the board updated one final ti.
NOW SERVING 47.
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