System, Ren called in his mind as he walked alongside Evan toward the hulking machine on the far side of the evaluation hall. Be honest with me do I have enough power to be considered S-Rank?
The reply came instantly, carrying the tone of someone being asked if water was wet.
Are you stupid, host? The status screen already says you're C-Rank.
Ren rolled his eyes inwardly. Some days you treat me like a genius, and other days you act like I'm stupid.
That's because sometimes you are a genius, the System shot back, and sometimes you're the guy who pours soup into a toaster because you "wanted it hot and crispy." Does your IQ have Bipolar or something?
Ren sighed. Your sass levels are getting dangerously high.
It's called adaptive personality integration, the System replied, clearly proud of itself.
Fine. Back to my question: do I have S-Rank power?
The System paused, as if deciding whether to insult him again.
Skill-wise, you're close. Almost all of your core abilities are S-Rank. That means your magical wave output could fool most readings into thinking you're S-Rank. But if anyone checks your actual stats… yeah, you're screwed.
Ren grunted. So, I'm impressive until someone looks at the fine print. Story of my life.
He was quiet for a moment, then added, System, "Doctor of the Ruin Gospel" sounds like I'm here to kick off the apocalypse. Can you change it to something friendlier, like "Divine Doctor"?
The System made a sound that could only be described as a stifled laugh.
Pffft. Host, I almost laughed out loud. Which kind of "Divine Doctor" uses tentacles? That's like an abomination calling itself a saint.
Thanks, fucker. So… can you change it or not?
Temporarily, yes. But I can't control what it will be read as on their end.
Ren thought about it. Just do it. It can't be worse than what I have now.
Famous last words.
.
.
.
They reached the machine. It looked like someone had crossbred a military-grade biometric scanner with an industrial MRI and then added intimidation value for fun. The screen above the handprint plate was huge, tilted down for everyone in the room to get a clear view of the results.
"Mr. Hector," Evan said, stepping aside, "please place your hand here. The device will read your class and your skill rankings."
Ren glanced around. The guild masters were watching Veyra with sharp curiosity, Elias with the analytical focus of a man about to take notes, Lu Changcheng with an almost ceremonial calm. Armand, naturally, was the only one who looked like he wished he were anywhere else.
Ren placed his palm on the scanner. The plate was cool and smooth, and the machine emitted a low hum that built into a faint vibration.
A mechanical voice echoed in the hall. "Reading complete."
The screen flashed white, then began to fill with text.
Status: Ren Hector
Class: Abomination Doctor (???)
Domain: Absolute Horror (???)
Title(s):
Embodiment of Horror
Surgeon of the Abyss
Core Stats:
Strength: ???
Defense: ???
Dexterity: ???
Mana: ???
Stamina: ???
Luck: ???
Potential: ???
Resistances:
???
???
???
???
???
Core Abilities (Ranks Only):
A-Rank
A-Rank
S-Rank
S-Rank
S-Rank
Ren's mouth went dry. System. What. The. Fuck. is "Abomination Doctor"?
You told me to change it, host. I told you I couldn't control how it would display.
This isn't a change. This is career sabotage. "Abomination Doctor" makes me sound like a sewer cryptid who botched med school.
Semantics.
Ren closed his eyes briefly. Fine. You win. Let's just get this over with.
He turned around to face the room.
Evan furrowed his brow.
Veyra looked amused.
Elias's eyes went wide.
Armand looked disgusted.
Even Master Lu made a stupid face.