Chapter 86: Group Class Raid 2
I blinked, confusion flashing across my face.
"...So why is she standing this close to me?"
.
Her killer trait.
That was the only way to describe Selene Whitmore’s complex personality. Beautiful, sharp, and seemingly untouchable, yet with a predatory edge that made people uneasy. To some, it was alluring, a sign of competence. To others, it was terrifying, a signal of immense danger.
I still didn’t know whether to blame her original creator for making her such a conflicting figure, or the game developers for ruthlessly balancing the game by tossing pain into the players’ laps. Was this level of complexity intentional? Was it a running hobby of theirs to create characters that people both admired and suffered for, characters who demanded competence before offering respect?
"Seriously," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head as I watched her profile. "Who the hell designed her character in the first place? The sheer effort of dealing with her requires a strategy guide."
My musings ended abruptly when the teacher clapped his hands, his voice cutting through the hall’s low rumble.
"Alright, cadets. Time to format the groups. There will be a total of ten groups, each with five members. Every group must be balanced one long-range dealer, one short-range dealer, two assistants, and one tanker. This formation will prepare you for real raids. Remember, balance is survival."
The room buzzed with restless chatter as names were called and positions assigned.
I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms. "I wonder which position I’ll get this time," I murmured. "And who they’ll throw me in with. Hopefully, someone with a brain."
The instructor’s eyes skimmed his list, pausing dramatically. "Group Five... Kael Vi-rel, position: Tanker."
I exhaled slowly. "A tanker, huh? Not bad." It was the role that allowed for maximum control over the battle flow, perfectly suited to my strengths and knowledge.
The list for the Fifth Group was immediately projected onto a screen overhead:
Fifth Group Composition
Name Position Rank
Kael Vi-rel Tanker 500th
Octavia Blake Long Range Dealer 600th
James Bond Long Range Assistant 700th
Selene Whitmore Short Range Dealer 8th
Julie Wartin Short Range Assistant 30th
The room shifted into pockets of groups forming. Students began moving closer to their assigned teammates, already tossing around strategies and half-hearted greetings.
"After you’ve formed groups and practiced your plans for no more than one hour," the teacher explained, his tone serious, "you’ll proceed to the practical stage. This will be your first raid simulation as a team. Treat it like the real thing."
A collective sigh of nervous excitement rolled across the hall.
I ran a hand through my hair, suppressing my own sigh. "Well... at least I got grouped with Octavia Blake," I noted, finding a bright spot. "That’ll make it easier to get close to her. She’s approachable, loyal, and smart enough. That’s a win."
But my relief was short-lived. My eyes slid toward Julie Wartin, who was already tossing her perfectly styled hair back, her expression an intolerable mixture of half-bored arrogance and smug superiority. A cold, heavy pit formed in my stomach.
"...And then there’s her," I muttered darkly. "Why’d I have to get grouped with Julie Wartin of all people? The randomness of the system is truly brutal."
Just looking at her made me acutely uncomfortable. Something about her entitled posture and the way her eyes lingered too long on others, cataloging their ranks and social standing—it grated on my nerves.
Still, I forced myself to breathe out slowly, taking a page from my own tactical manual. "Well, I haven’t actually talked to her yet. Maybe she’s not as bad as I think." I adjusted my stance, preparing my game face. "Better to give her a chance than make enemies before the raid even starts. As the tanker, I should probably do the first greeting anyway."
Clearing my throat, I stepped forward.
"Alright," I thought, forcing a small, professional smile, "time to play the part of the respectable team leader."
Tanker’s Mandate
A familiar, irritatingly cheerful chime flickered in my head.
Hello, this is Hay!
Today’s quick explanation: Tankers.
A tanker’s role isn’t just to stand there and get hit. It’s a position of command and control. A tanker is responsible for enduring enemy attacks, yes, but more importantly, for controlling the flow of battle and reading the opponent’s movements. They must find gaps, create openings, and command the timing of counterattacks. Without a competent tanker, the team falls apart and risks a wipe.
That’s all for now. Until next time adios, readers!
I stepped forward confidently, ready to implement my role. "Hello, everyone. I’m Kael Vi-rel, assigned as the tanker for this group."
Julie Wartin’s lips curled upward, but not in kindness or welcome. Her gaze ran down me like I was some cheap fabric she didn’t care to touch, settling pointedly on the number next to my name on the projected list: 500th. "Hm. That’s true enough," she drawled, her tone dripping with mockery. "But I wonder... can a mere cadet ranked 500th really have the experience or the skill necessary to be a tanker for Rank 8 and 30?"
The words stung more than I expected. Her mockery wasn’t loud, but it was sharp, cutting into the air for everyone in our little cluster to hear. It was a direct, unwarranted challenge to my authority and competence.
What the hell is wrong with this girl? I thought, irritation sparking hot in my chest. Why act like that out of nowhere? We haven’t even started the strategy talk yet.
I opened my mouth, ready to bite back with a scathing remark that would put her arrogance in its place
But before I could, a shadow stepped between us.
Selene Whitmore.
She moved with quiet, deliberate grace, her stunning presence immediately eclipsing Julie’s. Standing slightly in front of me, her sharp, cold gaze locked onto Julie with the silent, formidable force of a drawn blade. She didn’t have to say a single word; her stance alone carried the weight of someone who had no tolerance for unnecessary arrogance or time-wasting squabbles.
It was as if, for just a moment, Selene had taken the unexpected role of my protector, shielding the Rank 500th Tanker from the Rank 30th Assistant. The Fifth Group was officially off to a chaotic start.