Barcus looked at all the Rebornians around him. Surely they weren't talking about the 'skill' right? After all, that was an inherent power that people have since their birth and only naturally awakened during the course of one's life. It wasn't supposed to be wagered or given away like it was so sort of coin.
"Really Bro MIke?! Yosha! I'll be getting that 4-star [Shadow Transportation] that you guys have. I don't want to sit in a carriage for weeks on end!" Zion said, his eyes filling with competitive fire.
Even the Red HobMankey couldn't help but gulp as he began to think about the skill that he was going to get once he won.
"Ooooh, this is a really high stakes ga!" one of the spectators said.
"I want a skill of my own too! But I need to work a few more months before I can get an allocated spot in the boss' ti."
Now that the Nation of Reborn grew to the size of about 30,000 citizens and more, Michael couldn't simply just give out any kind of customized skill for the Rebornians any ti they wanted.
Back when there were only thousands of them, he gave away skills like it was bronze coins. But now, he was a little bit more conservative in his gift bestowal. If he didn't, then he would have to spend a lot of hours every day giving skills to Rebornians.
So, he implented a rit-based system for skills. Once they worked hard enough to progress the Nation of Reborn, then they were entitled with a one-on-one session with him where they could wish for any customized skill they wanted.
This beca quite a good motivator for the workers, so Michael began to implent it with the other anities in the Nation. For example, people could get Mithril Artifacts, a year's supply of beer, or even a house and lot in the Parched Lands all through rit as well.
Of course, the most coveted 'prize' that anyone wanted was the customized skill. It was a total ga-changer for people who wanted to improve their skills in their field, which helped them gain more rit and so on and so forth.
So, when he offered a skill as a bet, all the Rebornians were intrigued.
"Dealer, show the cards!" Zion enthusiastically shouted, banging his fists on the table.
The Shadow Orc then turned the five cards on the table into a face-up position, showing their value.
"Haha!" Zion jumped, showing his two cards to Michael. "Bro Mike, I got a two pair combo!"
He showed his cards, and the dealer confird that his two cards were definitely the sa as two of the five cards in the table, making two pairs.
"Sorry, but I got three of a kind."
Michael showed his two cards, a five of hearts and a five of clubs. And coincidentally, one of the cards on the dealer's table also had a five of diamonds, creating a combo of three 5's.
"AWW!" Zion slumped back to his seat, defeated.
Now, there was just one other person on the table who still hasn't shown his cards.
"Can you beat a three of a kind?" the dealer asked the Red HobMankey.
He looked shy to show his cards at first, but he eventually turned them over and showed a two of clubs and a three of diamonds.
Those two cards seed unimpressive at first, but when combined with the five cards at the dealer's table, showed a completely different outco!
The dealer had a four of hearts, a five of diamonds, and a six of clubs!
The cards numbered two through six created a straight combo! The Red HobMankey won!
"WOAH!"
"CONGRATS MAN!"
"...I…I won?"
The Red HobMankey couldn't believe his luck.
"Congrats," Michael said to him. "As promised, I owe you a skill. What do you want?"
The Red HobMankey didn't even know what to say. A few seconds later, so of his Mankey friends in their platoon ca rushing over to his side and began bombarding him with requests.
"Dude, you should get a cool sword skill, like sir Jaku with his lightning slashes. The 4-star [Electric Slice] should be good!" one of them said.
"No, no, he should get a shadow skill. Aren't the Orcs so cool with their ninja skills?"
The Red HobMankey listened to everyone's request, but none of them struck his fancy. He wanted sothing different, sothing that would help the platoon as a whole.
"Umm…I have a request," he said to Michael. "Boss, I want to talk with my team without speaking—like telepathically!"
Upon hearing this, Barcus couldn't help but think to himself that there was no such spell like that available in the world—certainly not here in the backwoods side of the Queens region.
He thought Michael would imdiately deny the request, but Michaek instead closed his eyes for a second before nodding.
"Okay," Michael said. "One customized 3-star skill [Military Talk] coming right up."
He raised his hand and imdiately, a bright white light appeared on the Red HobMankey's chest.
It blinded everyone for a second before subsiding.
"What happened?" Barcus asked out loud.
But then, he noticed that the Red HobMankey's eyes widened. He looked at the other Mankeys, who all raised their hands and created so sort of gestures at the very sa ti as if they were talking to each other!
"No way…" he muttered. "Are they…are they telepathically communicating through a skill?"
Michael nodded. "Yeah. I gave him a skill that allows him to beco like a radio signal—oh I guess, you don't understand that huh. It creates an invisible connection with his platoon mbers that allows them to speak with their minds."
"But….but…but…a skill…impossible…but how…."
Barcus couldn't bring the words out of his mouth. Shock wouldn't be the right word to describe his feeling at the mont. Distressed was more like it.
He couldn't help but look at Michael and the Rebornians differently now.
After the bet was over, everyone turned back to their own gas and played like normal as if nothing even happened.
He couldn't understand why he was the only one who seed to be stupefied at the sight of Michael creating a skill out of nowhere and giving it to soone in just a blink of an eye.
Was this normal for them?! A 4-star skill given just like that…
Before Barcus could even formulate a question, he saw a dark shadow ascend from the ground behind Michael. Slowly, it morphed into the form of an Orc, similar to the one dealing the cards on their table.
The Orc bowed to Michael. "Boss, the bandits are finally on the move. They have positioned themselves on top of the valleys near the Golden Road halfway from Angora City to the First Settlent."
Barcus heard their conversation and couldn't help but speak out his thoughts. "Wait. Are those bandits wearing black handkerchiefs around their necks?"
The Orc looked at Michael first, asking him for permission to talk. Once he was given a nod, he faced Barcus and nodded.
"Yes. They are led by a man that carries around a curved knife made out of reinforced obsidian."
Barcus gasped, realizing who it was.
"That's Sleazy, from the Bastard Bandits! He's famous for leaving behind only empty carriages and pooled blood in his wake! You have to retreat your rchants now!"
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