Lucius was rather perplexed. Conman? Right hand man of the devil? Oh dear, the strange panel even had the audacity to call him the embodiment of evil! How rude, he had only ever pursued his desires. Surely there wasn’t anything evil about that now, was there?
Insults aside, it would appear whatever mysterious entity was controlling this game wanted him to choose a title for himself. He didn’t quite understand what classes exactly meant, but he knew that names had power—they influenced you. They swayed who you were and what you would become. On that matter, there was really only one choice he could pick out of the lot.
 
>[Gentlemanly Florist has been selected. Granting skills…]<
*[Rank F] Teatime (Growth type): Once per day, conjure a cup of tea of your choosing.
*[Rank F] Flowers’ Best Friend (Passive, Growth Type): Whenever you encounter a new species of flora, you will feel affinity towards it.
*[Rank D] Begone, Filth! (Passive): You clean at 1.5x the speed.
>[Skill loading: complete. Assigning status points based on current physique and aptitude. Scale will be set according to the human race, with 10 representing the average adult. Allocating…]<
Strength: 16
Dexterity: 32
Agility: 25
Endurance: 23
Magic: 0
Holiness: 0
Dark Arts: 99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999—
>[ERROR! ERROR! Dark Arts cannot be measured! Administrator has been alerted. Awaiting response…]<
>[Received. Relaying message: “Although such potential in the Dark Arts is unprecedented in the history of the Celestial Competition, it cannot be utilized due to the player’s chosen class (Gentlemanly Florist). As such, the value will be permanently set to 0.” The Administrator laments that the player did not pick an evil-aligned class]<
 
Lucius had not the foggiest idea what just occurred, but he didn’t care to pry into it. He was much more interested in a certain skill. What’s this? I can enjoy a daily cup of tea of whatever blend I so wish? Oh my, I take back my words. To you, O’ enigmatic mastermind, I give my deepest respects. You’re a dashing soul!
Of course, he just had to give it a go.
“Darjeeling, if you please,” Lucius said aloud. Soon, a fresh, steaming cup of Darjeeling tea appeared right in his hands! He took a sip, and indeed, it was a lovely batch: sweet and musky, a bit fruity, with a taste similar to that of a nice champagne. Lucius was truly impressed. Whoever brewed this for him must be a master.
“Woah.” Mili ran over and excitedly inspected the cup in Lucius’s hand. “That was cool.”
When he finished drinking, the teacup vanished without a trace: whoosh! Just like that. Lucius greatly appreciated the convenience - a gentleman shouldn’t litter, after all.
“I must be seeing things,” Marco said, rubbing his eyes. “How’d you do that? That… trick just now.”
“Well, this panel told me to pick something,” Lucius replied. “So I did, and it gave me this charming little ability. Have you not done so yet, Mister Bernardi?”
Marco scratched the back of his head and grimaced. “Well, I’m not sure. I tend not to trust anything I can’t see for myself, much less some fancy, magic lookin’ box. What does this even mean? Classes?”
Jack cleared his throat with a loud “Ah-hem!” and gestured to himself, grinning in a smug manner that really made you want to smack him. “This is where I come in. Classes, you see, are kind of like jobs. Occupations. When you choose one, you’ll get certain skills that either make you stronger or give you a special power.”
“What, like choosing boxer suddenly makes you a world champion?” Marco asked.
Jack clicked his tongue and wagged his finger. He seemed to be enjoying this situation, albeit perhaps a little too much. It was as if he were speaking down to a child and patronizing them. “Well, not exactly, but I guess you could think of it that way if it helps you understand. Getting a class won’t turn you into a master right away. You gotta get experience. The more you level up, and the more monsters you kill, the stronger the skills you get. That’s why it’s important to choose a good one, but…”Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
He turned to face Lucius, and regarded him with a frown. “Don’t, um, take this the wrong way Lucius, but what class did you pick exactly? I mean, seriously. Tea?”
“I chose the one that seemed most interesting to me: Gentlemanly Florist,” he said. “My, it just rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it?”
Lucius was very proud of his choice. Jack, on the other hand, was not all too eager.
“Gentlemanly… Florist?” he said, dragging each syllable as slowly as he could.
“Yes. I am a florist, and I like to think of myself as a gentleman, so what better an occupation than one I already am?”
Jack smacked his forehead and sighed. “Sure, I guess. But Lucius, I don’t think you really understand—this isn’t some picnic or casual road trip. Our lives are in danger here. Weren’t there any classes that sounded, I dunno, stronger? More useful?”
“Perhaps, but I like this one.”
Jack’s face practically turned blood red in frustration. He mouthed to say something, but eventually gave up and dismissed Lucius with a wave. “Fine, whatever. But remember this: the world is different now. Our old rules, standards, society and all that crap are gone. From here on out it’s survival of the fittest, and if you fall behind, don’t expect anyone to come help you and hold your hand. Figure out your shit if you want to live.”
“Language, Mister Thames.”
“Fuck you.”
The man looked ready to spew more, but Mili shoved in front of him before he could and strung a loud riff of her guitar, stunning everyone with the punk-rock rumble tumble of her music.
“Alright, I’ve been to enough meet n’ greets to know when things are getting a bit too heated,” she said, hauling her instrument over her shoulder as if it were a bat. “Simmer down, saucy Jack. I get it, this is some world-ending crap going on right now, and honestly I still think I’m losing my mind, but yellin’ and spittin’ aint gonna get us anywhere. Don’t be a jerk.”
Marco joined her, nodding along with a grim frown. “The miss is right, pal. I don’t expect you to be as disciplined as my boys back home, but have a little respect won’t you? A short temper’s gonna be the end of ya—trust me, I’ve seen enough idiots thrown in the gutter ‘cause of it.”
It was three against one, a fact that soured the young Jack greatly. He backed away, muttering in denial as if everyone was crazy except for him, but still he tried to take back control and confronted the group with another plea.
“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” he whined. “None of you understand! Why am I alone in this? You should be following me. The one who has the answers, who can get us through this without anyone dying, is me. All you have to do is listen. Seriously, is that so hard?”
But his words only served to further the distance between them. Mili rolled her eyes, gave him the finger, and walked away. Even the good-hearted Marco could only shake his head, brow furrowed as if he were facing a disobedient twerp.
“That’s the problem with ya, buddy,” he said. “How can you expect anyone to listen if you’re actin’ out like this? Get your head out of your ass and take a good look: We’re people. Not your lackeys, not your grunts who’ll slave away at your beck and command, but everyday folks like you. If we’re really in as much danger as you say, then it’s important we trust each other. And trust has to be earned. Throwin’ a tantrum’s not the way to do it.”
And so, Jack was left all by his lonesome—a bitter, brooding mess of a man. In the end he could only retreat to a corner and bury his head in his arms as the harmonious party of his imagination grew further out of reach.
It was quite amusing to Lucius, seeing all this unfold. Through all that bravado and hostility, Jack meant well - he really did - but his inferiority got the better of him. Words that were meant to be said in goodwill were instead harshly spat out, provoking only confrontation.
Everything was just so entertaining. Jack wanted to be special, he wanted to be respected and hailed as a leader, but he lacked both the social aptitude and the personality to do so. Instead, he only came across as a loser. Such clumsy, inept behavior… Lucius barely managed to suppress a laugh. Now this was the sort of man he was looking for: someone far in denial of their true self.
Lucius parted from the others despite their concerns and strolled to the depressed Jack. The man looked up at him, confused, but most of all tired.
“We all make mistakes, Mister Thames,” Lucius said, patting him on the shoulder. “But our worst moments do not define us. Don’t worry, I wasn’t bothered by your words. Sometimes it’s difficult to convey what we truly mean, and there are moments when we unintentionally cause hurt. When that happens, it’s best to apologize so that everyone can move forward.”
Jack’s lips shook, and he let out a deep sigh. There was still a faint hint of pride stubbornly clinging onto him, but eventually he gave up and chose to accept his wrongs.
“I’m sorry, Lucius,” he said. “I really mean it.”
Lucius chuckled, and nudged him back up. “Apology accepted. Now, let us go see the others, hm?”
He nodded and walked back towards the group. A tense air settled between them, Marco and Mili both hesitant, but people were ever easy to forgive when met with sincerity. Jack lowered himself, and he apologized with all his heart.
“Now that’s better,” Marco said, bringing the man in for a playful tussle. “A little honesty goes a long way.”
Mili’s reaction was a bit more cold. She leaned back, crossed her arms, and tried to seem aloof: however, there was no hiding her grin. “Should’ve acted like that from the start, you dolt.”
Soon, the whole party was friendly again, and Jack faced the world with a new, brighter self. Lucius could see it on his face: a thought that, yes, with these people he could truly forge a bond, a friendship, that he had never succeeded in making before. This was his chance to become someone different.
But Lucius had a thought of his own.
I wonder… when I strip you of your pretense, of all the blubber and bluster, how will you react? What beauty will I see when you finally break? I cannot wait to find out.
He smiled, for everything was going just as planned.