“Mwehehehe...”
I caught myself smiling like some deranged clown, enough to make a few people inch away from me.
But whatever. Let them stare. For now, at least.
Alright… how about opening my status?
“Status.”
Name: Rasya Rio (Chloe)
Job: —
Class: —
HP: 15
MP: 5
VIT: 2
STR: 3
AGI: 2
LUK: 85
Huh? Chloe?
That’s the name I use for my main account!
But wait.
I could only stand there, frozen, staring at the miserable numbers on my screen.
“What… what is this? These stats are garbage! No, no, no—this is way too low! I’ve played this game countless times and it has NEVER given anyone numbers this pathetic!!”
My voice echoed, drawing confused stares from people around me.
Not that it mattered.
They already thought I was weird from the beginning—this is hardly going to lower their impression any further.
Still… this makes no sense.
Starter stats were never this low.
Did everyone get different base stats in this world?
I mean—sure, I was a shut-in gamer who barely left his room except to eat and greet family, and go to the campus. Maybe that means my “body” is trash-tier here too?
Speaking of family, I wonder… did they get dragged into this world as well?
Huft. Thinking about it won’t help.
Better recall what happens next in the game.
Like any classic RPG, Exceed is divided into several story arcs.
In the first arc, players are introduced to a rank system called Trophies. Each Trophy sets a limit to how much your base stats can be enhanced. They exist so you can’t become ridiculously overpowered too early.
In short, the game splits stats into two categories:
Base stats and additional stats from equipment.
Trophies decide how far your base stats can grow, and therefore what equipment you’re allowed to use.
Which means… base stats are everything.
Back to the arc: in Arc 1, there are two initial Trophies—Classless and Jobless.
Classless allows up to 12 additional stats, and Jobless raises it to 17.
Later arcs introduce the Adventurer Trophy, which branches from F-Rank all the way to the legendary SSS-Rank.
From Arc 2 onward, there are no more hard stat caps.
If you’re skilled enough, you can reach SSS-Rank… theoretically. But hitting max stats—100 points—is nearly impossible.
Even for me.
Honestly, I’ve never managed to raise all my characters to Adventurer SSS-Rank. Out of the five accounts I created, only three made it that far.
But that’s expected—they were my top 1% optimized builds. If I still couldn’t push them to the top, that would’ve been embarrassing.
But for now…
“This tutorial is my lifeline. No one else realizes it, but this is the only way I can raise my stats to a playable level.”
I muttered to myself as the room around me slowly emptied.
Soon, only a handful of people remained in the white chamber.
And Mevis—the old guide NPC—was among them.
He looked at me with a face that practically said, 'Ah, one more leftover… what a hassle.'
I hated it. Honestly.
Annoyed, I hit the tutorial button and stepped through the strange door leading to it.
The tutorial itself should’ve been simple: create your avatar, set a name, pick a weapon specialty. There’s even a hidden training feature—an Easter egg with a buggy entry condition—and I planned to exploit it.
At least, that was the plan.
But then…
Inside a massive colosseum, I saw the same group of people from before—same faces, different place.
Which meant one thing:
“We’re meeting again…?” I whispered.
A door materialized moments later, and Mevis appeared with the last person to enter. He froze, clearly not expecting this.
Everyone turned toward him.
I subtly stepped away. No way was I getting caught in that mess.
“Oi! What’s the meaning of this? You said we’d go through a simple tutorial! Why gather us here like this?”
One of the teens barked at Mevis, agitation in his voice.
Mevis faltered for half a second, but quickly recovered with his usual serene expression.
He hid it well—too well.
Maybe it’s my gamer instincts or some innate perception, but I could tell he was anxious underneath.
“Hahaha! I’m a player, not the developer of this god game. Everything I told you is how it works in-game. Apparently, the rules here… are different.”
He answered calmly, still smiling.
Some veteran Exceed players looked pale but nodded.
They knew he was right.
“Tch.”
The teen clicked his tongue.
Silence fell.
The colosseum felt darker than before—its vast shadows swallowing every whisper.
Unease crawled through the air.
And that’s when I smiled.
Seeing Mevis and the others confused meant only one thing:
They had no idea where we were.
A colosseum, yet shaped like a massive stadium, ringed with countless rooms—cafeterias, dorms, gyms, lounges.
A perfect place to rest… and an even better place to train.
Why did I know all this without even looking around?
Because this is the 'Training Session, the hidden feature in the game.
A feature so crucial that if a player missed it, they might as well delete their account.
It was the only place in the entire game where you could permanently raise your base stats.
And in a world where a single point makes a life-or-death difference, that’s everything.
Which is why I grinned.
The fact that Mevis and the others didn’t know this place existed meant one thing:
I could monopolize it. Completely.