At work, we barely crossed paths.
Everyone was busy with their own tasks.
I carried orders. Mark moved boxes.
There were no conversations, as if we were both afraid to touch the topic again.
Only at the end of the shift did he come up to me.
"Don't forget," he said quietly. "Nine o'clock. The bus stop near your place."
"Okay," I nodded.
At home, I took a shower.
Changed into my usual jeans, a dark sweater, a shirt.
Nothing special. Same as always.
Glitch was spinning around my feet.
I took him out for a short walk, scratched him behind the ear, and smirked.
"Wish me luck. I'm going to try something new tonight."
He snorted and wagged his tail, clearly unimpressed.
Before leaving, I opened the Charisma quests again.
Public dancing.
Partner dances.
Performing in front of strangers.
I closed the window without even finishing reading.
As usual.
Mark and I met and rode in silence.
It had gotten noticeably colder — the air was sharp, biting at my face. Definitely no longer autumn.
Because of his long coat, I didn't notice his outfit right away.
Only now did I see it — sports pants and sneakers underneath.
"You dressed sporty?" I asked.
"And you didn't?" he snorted. "If it's an arena, there'll definitely be movement."
"You sure jeans will be comfortable?"
I shrugged.
"Lately, I've had no problems with physical strain. I think I'll be fine."
"We'll see," he said with a smirk.
We reached the place.
An illegal bar. Loud. Crowded.
"We're looking for Angelina," Mark told the guard.
We were eyed suspiciously.
We waited.
A minute.
Another.
I was already thinking we were being ignored when a guy approached us.
"You're with me," he said. "Thor. I was with Angelina."
"Oh… right," Mark replied awkwardly. "Sorry, didn't recognize you at first."
"Come on."
We walked through the underground city.
Past bars, gaming halls, betting rooms.
Life down here was boiling as if the surface world didn't even exist.
"We're total beginners," Mark started. "We wanted to ask if there's a training mode."
"We've never participated before."
Thor laughed.
"Seriously?"
"Never? Not even once?"
"Only championships on TV," Mark answered. "Different levels."
"Ah, those," Thor waved it off. "Two hundred, three hundred."
"Teenagers all rush here these days. Maximalism."
We entered a building.
Inside — like a gaming club.
Rooms with computers, people at tables, arguing, laughing.
Then further inside.
A separate office.
Angelina was sitting at a desk, scrolling through data on a screen.
For a split second, I saw player profiles with levels — then it disappeared.
"Oh," she said, looking up. "You came after all?"
"Decided to join the newbie team?"
"They don't even know what this is," Thor smirked.
"I thought people like that didn't exist anymore."
Angelina looked at us with surprise.
"Seriously?"
"You've never been on an arena?"
"No," Mark answered.
She scoffed.
"Well, look at that. Law-abiding citizens of the first block."
"Mommy's boys still exist."
We exchanged glances.
"Alright," she said. "Let's see your stats."
Mark went first and placed his hand on the scanner.
Strength — 20
Endurance — 20
Intelligence — 5
Charisma — 10
"Not impressive," she said flatly. "I expected more if you're hanging around here."
She turned to me.
"Your turn. Maybe you'll surprise me."
"I…" I hesitated. "Mine are… not great."
"Go on."
I placed my hand down.
Strength — 11
Endurance — 13
Intelligence — 11
Charisma — 4
She looked at the screen.
Then at me.
"Are you serious?"
"You came here with stats like that?"
"We just—" I started.
"Just went with the flow," she cut me off.
"That's exactly the kind of people the state relies on."
"Living meat. Workforce."
The words hit harder than I expected.
"Beginners here usually have at least thirty in strength and endurance," she continued.
"And your intelligence…" she smirked at Mark. "Five? What were you even doing?"
I stood there, feeling something tighten inside.
She was right.
I had always lived by the rules.
Worked.
Endured.
Believed that "this is how it's supposed to be."
And suddenly I realized how convenient that was… for everyone except me.
"Let us try," I said sharply.
"If we understand it's our thing, we'll grind our way to level thirty."
"Then we'll play a real match."
She stared at me for a long moment.
"Fine," she finally said. "Here's the deal."
"I'll train you up to thirty in strength and endurance."
"You'll play at least one match with a bet."
"Minimum bet is five levels," she added.
"No exceptions."
Mark went pale.
"Five…?"
"But you'll be prepared," she said calmly.
"If you lose, you'll return to where you started."
"If you win, you move forward."
"And no whining," she added coldly.
"You'll sign a non-disclosure contract immediately."
"You can't sue us," I muttered.
She smiled.
"The state might not find you."
"But I will."
I clenched my fists.
"Deal," I said.
Mark looked at me, then at her.
"Well… if you think about it…" he sighed. "Yeah. Deal."
"Good," Angelina said.
"Then we start with training."
She looked at us and suddenly asked:
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen," I answered.
"Nineteen," Mark added.
"Well then," she smirked. "You're going to sweat."
"And what's your own strength level?" I couldn't help asking.
"One hundred fifty," she replied calmly.
That was the moment I understood.
Everything I knew about life,
about limits,
about possibilities—
wasn't the world.
It was a cage,
that the state called normal.
And I had no intention of staying inside it anymore.