Strength Based Wizard

Chapter 15

Ex

This is a nightmare. It has to be. There’s no other reasonable explanation.

I must have dropped a barbell on my head somewhere between my one-rep max and Steve fixing the damn TV, because there’s no other explanation for what I’m seeing.

The camera zooms in, and there she is.

Sarah.

Standing in the center of the goddamn stage like she was born to be there.

She’s in a sharp, perfectly tailored suit, the dark fabric hugging her like it was custom-cut by a tailor who charged more per hour than I made in a week back at Summit Lake. The others around her are suited up too—except for one, an older Indian woman in a skirt—but my eyes are locked on Sarah.

The announcer’s voice booms through the TV speakers.

“And now . . . introducing the five Captains of the Pegasus Guild!”

The pit in my stomach sinks lower, practically bottoming out. It feels like my guts are about to spill out onto the gym floor.

The announcer is rattling off facts about the new Pegasus Guild, and I know what’s coming, but hearing it still feels like a punch to the throat.

“Sarah Zorbas!”

There she is again. Bigger than life on the screen, smiling, waving, blowing a goddamned kiss, and winking at the camera like she’s some kind of celebrity. No, she wasn’t born for this. She was built in a freaking lab for this specific role.

A new window pops up on-screen, overlaying her image with cold, undeniable facts:

Sarah Zorbas

Age: 28

Hometown: Greenwich, Connecticut

Title: The Rimeblade Maiden

Class: Everfrost Duelist

I swallow hard. My mouth is dry.

She looks the same: Tall, lean. Even with access to the System, she hasn’t changed. She was always in great shape, though. Long blonde hair that somehow manages to be both elegant and effortless—falling behind her like a waterfall of 24 karat gold. Brilliant blue eyes that stare through the camera. I can tell she’s got the attention of every man surrounding this TV screen right now. But those eyes are cold. Everfrost Duelist. I snort. The Class suits her. Despite the façade, she’s a cold bitch.

Seeing her on the screen makes me sick.

The next person steps up, but I barely care. Compared to Sarah, the guy is wholly unremarkable—average height, built well enough, buzzed dark hair, dark eyes. Pale, awkward, but grinning wide like he just won the lottery.

The screen shifts.

Matthew Bruck

Age: 26

Hometown: Chicago, Illinois

Title: The Silent Specter

Class: Nimble Ghost

The third Captain walks up. He’s younger than even this Matt fella. A black guy with a beard and braided hair. Skinny, and short. He’s probably no taller than five and half feet tall. He’s a handsome man, his face all sharp lines. He bites his lip, his whole face radiating pride as the crowd roars for him. He waves to the audience, who go bonkers in response.

Jase Fears

Age: 23

Hometown: Miami, Florida

Title: The Crimson Pact

Class: Red Mage

Then comes the fourth Captain. He’s the tallest of the group. Broad-shouldered. A Latino guy with a sharp widow’s peak, long hair tied back into a man bun, and a well-groomed goatee. Unlike the others, he doesn’t smile. Doesn’t react. Just stands there like a statue.

Victor Diaz

Age: 35

Hometown: Los Angeles, California

Title: The Steel Bastion

Class: Armorer

Finally, the camera settles on the last Captain.

She’s tiny. Even compared to Jase, she’s minuscule. An older Indian woman, her dark hair starting to gray. She has a calm, almost eerie expression, painted onto her face like she’s already seen the worst the world has to offer and isn’t fazed by a goddamn thing.

Reshma Murmu

Age: 56

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Hometown: Dallas, Texas

Title: The Sainted Blade

Class: Bone Cleric

The crowd goes wild.

“The Sainted Blade . . . Sounds badass,” one of the guys standing near me says to no one in particular.

The screen cuts back to Geraint Silver, smug and satisfied.

I barely hear the next words.

I can’t. It just had to be her. It had to be Sarah.

Silver’s voice booms through the speakers again, rich, commanding, the kind of voice that belongs behind a podium. The kind that makes people lean in. I notice that’s exactly what I’m doing—shoulder slanting towards the television, slowly being sucked in, hanging on his next word like he’s about to deliver a sermon from the pulpit and I’m a damned soul desperately looking for anything to save me.

“These five exceptional individuals were selected from a detailed selection process overseen by Bellerophon Corporation . . . First, we pre-selected individuals who were granted Classes with extremely high base stat potential and access to powerful Skills and Spells. Like our Everfrost Duelist over there!” His arms lashes out, finger pointed at Sarah. The camera cuts to her again and my heart painfully seizes. Sarah tosses her hair and throws up a little peace sign to the camera.

The crowd roars again, hanging onto his every word.

“They have since undergone an exhaustive vetting process and two months of intensive training, utilizing every resource Bellerophon has at its disposal. And now, today—” he spreads his arms wide, smiling like a goddamn emperor addressing his empire, “—they stand before you as the future of humanity’s expansion into the Gates.”

The Internet was flooded with videos and articles about Silver’s obsession about expanding into the Gates. His sole purpose became boiled down to exploring increasingly deeper Levels of the Realms beyond the Gates, which many people were in support of. The loot that people brought back with them from Quests were extremely valuable. Some already having medical and scientific applications that were rapidly revolutionizing the industries. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to say the Gates likely held the cure to cancer and they’d be taken seriously—it wasn’t that crazy of a possibility.

More cheering. Applause. Some people in the crowd are losing their minds, like this is a WWE event. I just stare at the screen, numb.

Two months. Two months of intense training with all the best tech and System resources money can buy. That’s all it took to become allegedly one of the five strongest System users in the United States. Sarah’s not just playing the part up there. She’s been preparing for this. For this new life of fame and celebrity.

For a moment, I wonder what her Stats look like. What her Class really does. The customized Gym HUD I programmed into my System interface suddenly seems so childish. God dammit…

Then a voice breaks through my spiral.

“Hey, Joe,” Chains calls out. Big guy, bigger mouth. I look over to see him grinning at me, arms folded. “You thinking about joining a Guild next? Maybe going pro?”

Another guy snickers. “Dude’s already got the gains, might as well capitalize. Your Title could be Barbell Brain!”

The group of meatheads breaks into laughter.

“Or One Pump Chump!” someone else adds.

The group howls.

I smirk and shake my head. Fucking hell.

“Damn, you guys are ruthless,” I say, grabbing my towel. “That’s real original. Really cutting-edge shit.” I flip them all my middle finger, sticking my tongue out.

Chains claps me on the back, nearly knocking me forward. Even with my Stats, the guy’s a tank.

The jokes keep coming, but my mind’s not here anymore.

I was the last System-empowered guy still coming to this gym.

There had been a couple others—at first. But they’d stopped showing up. I didn’t ask why. Didn’t have to. A System-enhanced body, even without an 11 in Strength, made most gyms obsolete. Steve had built his place to last, and it was a gym made for heavy metal, but even I could see the writing on the wall. There’d come a point—sooner rather than later—where I’d outgrow the weights entirely. But the couple of fitness facilities that had sprung up, catering to System-empowered clientele were all looks and no substance. They were no Diesel Athletic Club, that’s for certain.

I nod at Steve as I head to the locker room. He just grunts, eyes locked on the TV, screwdriver still in hand.

The moment the door swings shut behind me, I exhale.

Sarah fucking Zorbas.

She ripped my heart out, threw me to the curb, and walked away without looking back.

And instead of instant karma raining down on her like a bag of bricks—instead of some cosmic retribution—she’s up there: one of the most famous System users in the country.

One of Geraint Silver’s top recruits. A Captain of the Pegasus Guild.

Which meant her Class must be insane. Everfrost Duelist.

I step into the shower, letting the water run over me.

What the fuck…

I check the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of my own greenish eyes before flicking on my blinker and merging off the highway. The sign for my exit flashes past. Almost home.

The drive has been quiet, just the low hum of the engine and the occasional thud of my fingers tapping against the wheel. My mind? Not so much.

Sarah. The press conference. Silver’s golden fucking boy—or girl, in this case—being my ex-fiancée of all people. I cycle through the rolodex of sayings from my Dad, trying to stay grounded in a positive mindset. She was out of my life and I shouldn’t let her have any impact on my mood. Just ignore the fact that she’ll be doing commercials and ads soon. Knowing my luck, all of my favorite brands would sponsor her.

I roll my shoulders, trying to shake the tension, but the thoughts cling like burrs. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. She’s on her path, I’m on mine. ‘We all have our own paths to walk,’ Dad would say. ‘Keep your eyes on your own, unless you’d like to get lost.’

The house is dark when I pull into the driveway. No cars. Parents must have gone somewhere. Maybe a date night? . . . Actually, knowing Mom, it was most definitely errands. Her list of errands never seemed to grow any shorter.

I step inside, kicking off my sneakers. I head downstairs, feet creaking against the familiar wooden steps, and stop at the basement door. My domain.

I press my ear to the wood. Voices, muffled, greet me.

I know exactly what that means.

Grinning, I grab the handle and push the door open.

“Daddy’s home!”

The blue blob on my desk jerks in surprise, its gelatinous body quivering before quickly turning its two beady black eyes toward me.

Jelly Boy vibrates in excitement.

The little bastard loves a dramatic entrance. He shuffles to the edge of the desk, wiggling his entire body like an eager puppy before launching himself off.

I barely have time to react before he smacks into my ankle with a wet plop. His gooey surface clings to my skin, sending a weird, cool sensation up my leg.

“Yeah, yeah, I missed you too, buddy.” I bend down, patting the top of his jiggling body. He wiggles again, practically purring.

Then my eyes flick to my laptop.

A bunch of overly tanned, overly dramatic women are screaming at each other in a restaurant.

I groan.

“Dude. Again? I can’t believe you like this junk.”

Jelly Boy bobs, his version of a shrug.

I sigh, collapsing into my desk chair.

When I first came home with my contraband slime pal, I had no clue what to do with him while I was away from the house.

Mom and Dad had done okay processing the whole “System” thing, but bringing home an actual creature from beyond the Gates? Yeah, that probably wouldn’t go over well. Most people wanted to exterminate anything non-human that came through. Didn’t matter if it was a monster or just… a weird little dude made of jelly.

So, I kept him a secret.

At first, I left random YouTube videos playing for him while I was away—some background noise so he wouldn’t feel alone.

Somehow, the little guy stumbled into my streaming services and discovered reality TV, and now?

Now he’s fucking hooked.

Out of everything, it’s the goddamn Real Housewives that captured his non-existent heart.

I rub my temple. “You’ve got the whole world at your gelatinous little fingertips, and this is what you choose?”

Jelly Boy lets out a high-pitched gurgle—the closest thing he has to words.

On-screen, one of the housewives throws a drink at another, and Jelly Boy vibrates wildly.

God help me.

A thought flashes across my mind as I remember something. “Hey bud, want to see what our Daily Reward is today?”

Jelly Boy, who had ventured back to the laptop and Real Housewives glances up at me before vibrating in affirmative excitement.