The final test was both the most straightforward and most demanding. There was nothing complex or inherently challenging about it. Neither was there a score. A person either had the requisite flexibility in their muscles and joints, or they were ripped apart. Hence the third test’s moniker: The Wringer.

  The mayor didn’t need a reminder this time, already prepping the device before Raine finished the speed test. He positioned himself between two three-meter-thick panels of solid metal. He stretched his arms and legs to the sides, lining them up with the indicated slots. The panels rumbled to life, sliding together to trap him inside a human-shaped mold, similar to a die caster in a foundry.

  Encased in swaddling darkness, Raine was helpless to resist as complicated machinery inside the panels forced the mold, and subsequently his limbs, into ever more intricate positions. He was stretched, pulled, and twisted out over twenty grueling minutes.

  Released and standing under his own power again, Raine shook his limbs vigorously, enjoying the sensation of blood flowing normally. Bron, whose voice now held reverential admiration, was quick to shower him with praise, “Truly superb, Expert KongRu. To think you’re so close to breaking through the boundaries of a true master. I will personally see to purchasing and installing the class five testing equipment. If it pleases you, I can have your identification printed and sealed within an hour.”

  His new subservience made all the sense in the world. It was clear that Raine held back yet still scored at the very cusp of what was required to be called a class five master. With a class five martial leading the way, Carter City could rapidly expand its borders and resource allocations, entering a phase of prosperity it had never experienced.

  Raine cracked his neck, rubbing at a sore spot, “I’ll send a drone to pick it up later. I’ve got places to be.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed toward the door. Celeste was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She refused to meet his gaze, staring hard at something interesting in a corner of the room. Raine smirked at her shyness as he walked by her into the hallway.

  The mayor was on his heels, along with everyone else, “Expert KongRu. Your foundations are truly extraordinary. We’ll be sure to keep the results a closely guarded secret. Isn’t that right?” He glanced at Donnie’s crew, and the young men nodded vigorously, not saying a word. Since it was impossible to know just how much Raine hid, none of them would dare risk offending him.

  Recordings were not an issue since jamming made taking them impossible within official testing spaces. The government's built-in VVod capturing hardware would automatically send its recording directly to the MOC. (Martials Oversight Committee) While it was not uncommon to maintain a lower official class than one’s actual strength, it was frowned upon. So long as Raine didn't permanently cripple or kill any class fours, the government would turn a blind eye.

  Chasing him down the hallway, the mayor cleared his throat, “After your debut last night, I received over a hundred introduction requests from various influential individuals in the city. Would it be appropriate to arrange a banquet in your honor?”

  “No thanks. If there are important matters, send me a direct message.”

  “As you wish,” the mayor cupped fists, bowing over them as he shuffled awkwardly to keep up.

  Bron stepped in smoothly, “Expert KongRu, I have several lucrative business opportunities that might interest you. I would not dare inquire about your current financial situation. Still, if you’re interested, there is significant capital to be created in a city with such a bright future.” Raine harrumphed, his disinterest clear.

  Accepting the response with composure, Bron merely mimicked the mayor's bow. Donnie and his cronies were silent as ghosts, nearly a forgotten presence at the rear. Until they exited the building. As one, the group threw themselves to the ground, prostrating before Raine.

  “Expert KongRu. Sir, please instruct us! We’ll do anything you ask of us. I-I'll personally lick your boots clean, or your toilets, anything. Whatever you need, say the word, and we’ll make it so!”

  “Shameless!” Bron roared, kicking at Donnie and sending him rolling, “How dare you besmirch his dignity! If I ever see your face here again, you’re dead!”

  Bron’s reaction was understandable and fit the logic of the times. Since the dawn of civilization, those with power always found ways to keep it. In the old world, they used money, education, and outright corruption to divide the classes. In the new world, they withheld martial techniques and the processes to improve the body beyond normal human comprehension. Giving either of those priceless secrets away was not rare; it was simply never done.

  Bron was about to go after the others, but Raine’s hand on his arm stopped him cold, “Okay. I only have two conditions.”

  The older men gaped at Raine, unable to comprehend why he would be willing to share his secrets with people he couldn’t possibly know and shouldn't trust. After all, it was common for masters to only accept disciples at birth. This practice guaranteed their dominance without breaking the laws of the land. Anyone not born into a prestigious martial academy should never dream of ascending beyond expert to the rank of master.

  Donnie rolled back to his supplicating pose, not daring to look up at Raine’s feet, “Truly?! Whatever they are, we'll fulfill them without complaint!”

  The mayor looked left and right nervously, wringing his hands at those near enough to overhear, “Expert KongRu, I dare not question your desires. However, this place is…”

  “It’s of no concern. This offer is not for them alone. My first condition is that you have to spread the word that I'm taking disciples from any class, including those without previous official training.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Bron gasped, “A-any class! But that's suicide! The Coalition of Masters would never—” Raine’s hand whipped sideways, whistling through the air. Bron’s lips sealed tight, not reckless enough to utter another word.

  Donnie lifted his head far enough to slam it into the ground. Tears ran down his cheeks, and gooseflesh prickled his skin. His limbs vibrated with unmasked desire, “I understand! I'll tell everyone. I'll shout it from the rooftops. The whole city will know by the end of the week!”

  “Good. My second condition is that anyone wanting to learn my techniques must sign a contract in ZionLine, binding you to my guild for no less than five years.”

  Had Raine told them they needed to cut off their hands and feet, they would have been less shocked. None responded to his outrageously simple demand. Even Celeste was speechless, unable to comprehend how he wouldn’t be binding people for life. In the expanding silence, one of Donnie's friends spoke with a quivering voice, “E-expert KongRu, I heard the headsets needed aren't available, that the warehouse was cleaned out, and the backorders are in the millions. I-is this some kind of test?”

  Raine shook his head, the rustling of cloth drowned by the warm wind that had picked up around them, “Don't concern yourself with that. Just tell them my conditions. Anyone willing to follow them will be accepted.” Raine tapped his chin thoughtfully, then turned to the mayor, “On second thought, a banquet is a great idea. Set it up for this Sunday. Donnie, those who wish to be a disciple should be there. There will not be another chance to join so easily.”

  “As you command!” He slammed his forehead again, the others following his lead, releasing a round of crunchy thwacks.

  The mayor bowed again, “It will be done.”

  Raine started to walk toward Celeste’s car, then remembered something and looked back at the portly official, “Send me the data on any resource allocations the city lost that are still within the reclamation period. Those who’ve eaten a free meal from Carter City’s table, it's time they return the favor.”

  “T-thank you, Expert KongRu! I’ll see to it immediately!”

  “Wait, what did you say?!” Celeste’s panicked voice cut through the air, drawing every eye to the beautiful young woman. She held a finger to her temple—signaling she was on a call.

  He’d only heard her so scared once. Not at all appreciating the curious eavesdroppers, Raine released the desire to kill that was always nestled in the back of his brain, “Get lost!” His bloodlust sent Bron and the mayor scurrying inside the building. Donnie and his friends sprinted, one even screeching in terror.

  When his attention returned to Celeste, tears were streaming down her face. Her whole body shook as she leaned against the wall. Her call ended without another word. A quivering, maniacal giggle leaked from her lips as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

  Million creds she just found out her uncle knew about the flechette pistol.

  Her eyes snapped to his, a silent understanding passing between them in that brief exchange. Raine approached her with a resolute gait. She shook her head. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed, “I don’t want your pity. This is all your fault! Stay away from me!”

  Raine ignored her plea. One of his palms smacked into the wall behind her, the clap making her flinch. He grabbed her chin with two fingers, tilting her head to stare deep into her eyes. He leaned closer, warm breath splashing across her skin. Rational thought fled. Celeste couldn't breathe. Her mouth was suddenly dry, and her heart refused to beat. She looked down at his lips, her pupils dilating.

  Without warning, her stomach released a loud, hungry gurgle. She snapped back to herself. Furious, her elbow lashed out, aiming for Raine's jaw. He leaned back to evade the blow, and she took the chance to spin out from between him and the wall.

  “Asshole!” She stormed toward her car, heels jarringly clacking against the tiled walkway. Raine followed, smirking at her tantrum.

  Silly girl. Death lurks around every corner. There are several ways out of this. No sense panicking when we have an obvious solution and so much work to do.

  Despite her anger fading from his thoughts, Celeste kept up appearances until arriving at her father’s car. She reached toward the driver seat handle, then changed her mind and opened the back door. With an amused snort, Raine accepted the assignment of chauffeur and climbed into the front.

  [That's right! Get your first taste of being my slave, you overly-pretty bastard! Nobody should be allowed to look that good while being such a jerk! At least in ZL, he’s ugly enough to not get away with that crap.]

  Raine spoke the address for Soulgen, and the car came to life with a purring hum, “I’m assuming your father discovered something about your uncle.” Raine repositioned the rearview mirror so he could see her.

  She nodded sharply, clenching her jaw and wiping the last remnants of moisture from her cheeks. “Unc-that piece of shit dodged town,” she snarled, “He wouldn’t have fled if he were innocent.” A makeup pen appeared in her hand. She went to work fixing her appearance. Raine's brows rose in amusement when she angrily covered her adorable freckles.

  When the car dangerously tore down the city streets, Raine reactivated the autopilot's safety threshold. “Alright, so he's guilty. Annoying, but ultimately not that big a deal. We’ll just make you the new city champion. Then, even an Old Monster would need to link the weapon to you personally before killing you.”

  “Hunh?!” her lips curled, brows drawing down in surprised confusion.

  It was far and away the ugliest face he’d ever seen her make, rousing an amused chuckle, “If you’re a champion, the worst they could do is send one of their disciples after you. So, all we have to do is ensure you’re unbeatable in your class.”

  Considering the current state of the class system, her talent, and my training, she has nothing to fear.

  “You make it sound so simple,” her throat released a displeased groan as she looked out the window, chewing on his thoughts and words.

  “You’ll be fine. You’re already stronger than Dimitrey in a few areas. Once we get your fitness in line, you’ll be a more than capable class four.”

  “Get my fitness in line? It feels so nice to be called fat. What a charmer,” sarcasm dripped from her twisted lips.

  Raine’s voice was soothing, “With a few weeks to train, there won’t be a class five in the territory that can beat you. This will work out better for me anyway. I don’t have time to answer every silly little challenge the mayor comes up with.”

  “I knew it!” Celeste shouted, smacking the back of his seat with a palm. “Always using me however you want! I should have known this time was no different. Ragh! I hate you so much!” She continued to beat the back of his seat. Raine relaxed into the refreshing massage. After The Wringer, it was just what his body needed.

  That’s right. You’re my priceless little tool. Crimson Nebula, The Butcher of Renault. Last time, you were exiled and alone. You didn’t get the support and love you needed to flourish. This time, I’ll make sure you have everything you need to turn into a weapon so deadly you’ll make the entire world quake in terror.

  The strength left Celeste’s blows. She nearly burst into tears all over again, though this time from entirely different emotions. She lowered her head and pulled at her cheeks, desperate to hide the goofy grin that refused to vanish.