Hours passed as the army marched but Nilbog still could not wipe the disgust from his guts. A somber mood overtook everyone. There was little noise beyond the sound of hundreds of feet pressing against poorly made dirt road. He held the straps of his backpack as it dug into his shoulder, attempting to lessen the pain.

The wind was bitter enough to feel like daggers against Nilbog’s skin, and though it was commonplace by now, complaining about it hasn’t grown old on Nilbog yet. The muggy bogs he was born in were far different than the brutal rain and storms this area had.

He groaned, struggling with his load. It was nearly as large as him and weighed nearly as much. He was probably the lowest level in here, and while his base stats were still higher for being a ranked A in comparison to a human’s rank C, the difference was still too large.

“Need a hand?” a man said on Nilbog’s side.

Nilbog looked up from the ground--he really needed to stop doing that. He’d walk straight into another monster’s mouth if he was distracted enough.

663 was walking beside him, his back bent forward, and his neck slightly tilted towards him.

“Why would you help me? We’re going to reach the Dungeon soon. Each bit of STM saved will keep you safer,” Nilbog said.

“It’s...because we’re a party now. We need to help each other,” he said. “Also, let’s not call each other by those damned numbers. I’m Lan.”

Nilbog nodded. He saw where this was going. He offered his help not because he was feeling particularly nice, but because he needed help with his own weight. Not all Cubs were created equally. Those there were close to becoming Wolves were noticeably stronger than someone who just became one.

He needed to plant teamwork into the party for his own benefit. “I’m Nilbog, but are you sure?” he said, slightly louder than was required. He wanted to make sure that the three other members heard them.

“I am but-”

“Don’t take me for a fool,” Nilbog said, chuckling. “I’m too old for this nonsense. You think I’ll hold you back.”

Lan said opened his mouth again, but before he could speak 666 stopped in his tracks. “What a fucking idiot. You decline help you need because you’re all too prideful for it?”

“Prideful? Look at him. He’s struggling with his own and he wants to take a bigger load. Who says he won’t hold us back?” Nilbog spat back.

“Watch who you are talking to, deadweight, you’re just in it for the ride,” 666 yelled back. A few guards glanced his way, hushing him immediately.

“Calm it down,” 664 said. “In-fighting will help no one. None of us are happy with the situation, but we shouldn’t take it out on each other. I’m Cijo.”

“The fuck, who are you to tell me what to do? You think you can order me just like that?” 666 replied. His hushed whisper failed to match the tone of his voice.

“Ironic, how you call me deadweight, but here you go crying like a little bitch,” Nilbog said, out of impulse. He was too frustrated to hold back. Meeting Wynjo put him on edge.

Lan quickly cut in, just as 666 was about to march towards Nilbog. “That would be great, honestly. My STM is going to hit sub 50% soon. Even though he’s mouthing off, Nilbog doesn’t look better off.”

“We should just get rid of him, he’s not gonna be useful. He’ll only steal our EXP,” 666 said.

“Any EXP he gains will be EXP he earned,” Lan said. “Unless it changed from the last The Game, I mean.”

“He’s an annoying brat,” 666 said, glaring at Nilbog.

Nilbog rolled his eyes. Another problem to his list, though this one might have been largely due to Nilbog’s short-temper.

“He’s young. You’re gonna butt your head against a kid half your age?” Cijo said.

Lan, seeing things going downhill, spoke up. “I’ve already unlocked my class and a few skills for it, though as you can tell, it’s not that good as I’m still a Cub. Th first is a set of Control Zones. The second are party buffs. I can get a 20% buff to Strength, Speed, or Spirit, and the like, but only for specific purposes. The cooldown is a bit high, though. 5 to 10 minutes depending on the variant I use.”

“When did you unlock it?” Nilbog asked. Asking how Sentient’s received there classes was too risky, as it might have been common knowledge, but from what he said it sounded like they had to unlock it.

Lan still gave Nilbog an odd look. “That’s a bit personal.”

Cijo nodded. “Curiosity is fine, Nilbog, but don’t ask those types of things unless you're familiar with the person, alright?

Nilbog nodded. It’s not when they reach a certain level, then. Cijo didn’t specify a particular class, either, which must have meant classes were not generic.

Putting one and two together, classes were unique based on either the person, or actions the person did.

“It sounds like you have a supportive class,” Cijo said, setting his things down. “Here, give me some of your supplies. I mainly invested in the Internal Life Force branch and basic defensive skills. I haven’t gotten my class yet, though, so nothing special other than self-buffs.”

Lan nodded. “Sorry about that. We do get other passive bonuses. Check your Status Afflictions, you should receive a 20% EXP boost and 20% rarity increase anytime you roll for a reward or item.”

“How does the rariety increase work?” Nilbog asked. It should be a safe question.

“Parents never taught you?” Cijo said.

Nilbog shook his head. They really didn’t.

“If a legendary skill or item has a 1% chance of dropping, a 20% rarity increase makes that 1.2%.”

Wow, how underwhelming.

“Give me some of your weight while you’re at it, Nilbog,” Cijo said.

“You’re get exhausted if you take both of our burdens,” the Lan said, and then eyed number 666. He didn't seem bothered by it at all, but when both Nilbog and Cijo stared at him intently, he buckled.

“Oh fine, give it here,” he said, shaking his head. “But that doesn’t mean I consider either of you pricks the party leader. I’m Moon.”

Lan shook his head. “We don’t need one to lead over the other. We can just work it out.”

“Hmph, I’ll be fine with that,” Nilbog said. All three them looked at him oddly, and then, unexpectedly, laughed. Everyone thinks I’m weaker than I am. That made him feel safer, at the very least. His Sentient Killer should be a good surprise if they attack him.

“And you said he won’t have a use,” Cijo said.

“Whatever. He’s the only crazy one to still have a sense of humor after that…” Moon began, but stopped. “Say, wasn’t there a fifth with us?”

“Talking about me?” the 665 said, causing Nilbog and Moon to jump a few feet in the air.

“The fuck is wrong with you!” Moon yelled, pulling his hands away from the sword at his side.

665 looked back at him, his cheeks plump like a frog's. “I’m Gale, a rogue archetype. I have stealth skills, and I’m agile,” he said, his voice so monotone and dry that Nilbog doubted. His stomach bounced up and down, as did his man breasts under his ragged coat.

Everyone looked at him with narrowed eyes. Nilbog didn’t think parameters translated to physical appearances, otherwise, everyone would be walking-sideways from the sheer amount of muscle they had, but seeing Gale made Nilbog question his knowledge.