He passed through the portal, finally leaving the dungeon. It was only the first boss, but quest complete, and James had had enough anyway. The fresh, pure air on the other side was as pleasant as if it were the first time he'd breathed it in his life.

  "What did you get?" Mary asked.

  James glanced at the screens. He had experience points, a level up, the notification that he'd completed the quest and, in addition, "Class Selection," he read aloud.

  [Quest Complete: Descent - Floor 1] [Reward: 1200 Coins, 500 XP] [Level Up! Level 2 → Level 3] [Class Selection Now Available]

  "So level two. Of course, you hadn't even unlocked your class yet," Mary crossed her arms, thoughtful.

  "Still, he did great," Lea said. "I guess he didn't need it."

  "Madness or not, it's enough for me that we're alive," Natalia said.

  "What are you thinking of choosing?" Mary asked.

  This decision was like choosing a university and a career; it would irrevocably change his future. As for the classes, they were basically those of any RPG: thief, mage, knight, barbarian... you know, that kind of thing.

  "Won't it be possible, you know, to change your mind later?" James said.

  "Not at all," Jaime said. "When you choose, that's it."

  "Okay, well, you don't have to think about it now," Mary said. "We're done, we survived, that in itself is a great victory. It's more than enough, don't you think? Besides, I wouldn't recommend making a decision that's going to affect your whole life right now, full of adrenaline from having escaped death by the skin of your teeth."

  Yes, he couldn't deny she was right. He wasn't in any condition to think about any of that. In fact, he barely felt in any condition to walk. Once home, that is, in the hotel room, he could consider ideas, distribute the experience points gained and choose a class. Now, just put one foot in front of the other and so on.

  He collapsed onto the bed, air leaving his lungs in a deep sigh. With his mind he brought up the relevant screen once more: the class selection screen. Apparently it was something urgent; he wouldn't be allowed to continue leveling up until he chose it. And once he did, he'd be stuck with it for the rest of his life.

  His eyes always drifted toward that word: Rogue. It wasn't a common fantasy, he supposed, but instead of being the knight in shining armor, he'd always been more attracted to the idea of waiting for his moment from the shadows, attacking quickly and leaving quickly. In video games he'd had the same preference.

  Being a little knight in shining armor, fighting in front of everyone, that didn't fit him. Prolonging a fight was another way to fail. No, the most correct and efficient thing was to end it as soon as possible. If he ended all fights as soon as possible, he wouldn't need great defense. Others could call him a coward, but since he was born, he'd been destined to be a rogue. Yes, he was a rogue. No more talk about it. He made his decision.

  [Class Selected: Rogue]

  Afterward, the truth is James didn't feel different. He looked at his ability list and there was only "Stone Skin." He supposed he'd unlock the others with time and levels. Now, to distribute the four experience points he'd earned. He had great resistance when he activated his ability. If anything was lacking, it was the power to finish off his enemies quickly, decisively. He invested all four points to increase his attack power. Everything into strength.

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  Later that night, he heard someone knocking at his door. He tensed up.

  "Can I come in?"

  He recognized the voice. He got up to open the door.

  "Alma... it's a bit late, isn't it?"

  "Yeah, sorry. I'm not going to stay long. I hope you don't mind."

  "No, no. Of course I don't mind, I'm just surprised. Come on, come in."

  She passed, and he closed the door.

  Alma looked around, hands clasped behind her back, as if expecting to see something special or out of place. But of course she saw nothing. All the rooms were identical. Or... well, almost. It's not like he could afford to pay for a suite, even if there were any.

  And he, well...

  He wasn't different. Nothing special.

  Don't get your hopes up, you stupid son of a bitch, he thought.

  "Is something wrong?" James asked.

  "No, nothing like that," Alma said. "It's just that... I wanted to talk to you. Does that surprise you?"

  "Well yes," he admitted. "I thought by now you'd be convinced I'm a weirdo, not worth talking to, and possibly the kind of creep who gets false hopes right away."

  Alma laughed.

  "I don't know if you're a creep or not, but damn if you're not honest. I didn't expect you to speak so frankly. But hey, don't go overboard either, I gave you a compliment, nothing more."

  James crossed his arms and leaned his back against a wall.

  "But I am weird. I don't know how to talk to people, how to do things right. I get carried away, I get down, but I'm still the same weirdo." James shook his head. "Well, you didn't come here to hear me feel sorry for myself, I suppose. What did you want to tell me?"

  Alma sighed and sat on the bed, hands gripping the edge tightly, until her knuckles turned white.

  "You know, you're right. I've thought about it from time to time, becoming a dungeon explorer."

  "But you backed out, because it's too dangerous, regardless of the gain. That's reasonable, there's nothing wrong with that. I myself am very afraid every time I go out. Especially today," he admitted, lowering his head a bit. "I thought I was going to die. I thought it was all over."

  "But still, despite the fear, despite what happened today, tomorrow you'll go out for another quest, and probably to another dungeon, right?"

  "Yes, I will."

  "You have enough money to start over in some nearby city, with a normal job, that won't make you happy, but won't cost you your life either."

  "That's true," James responded.

  "Why? Why continue with this, even though you have other options?"

  "I already told you, I feel alive. That's enough for me."

  Alma nodded.

  "But I think I understand. I don't feel very good about myself," she said, playing with a strand of her hair. "It's wrong for me to say, but I'm a pretty girl, I'm smart, I have a job that pays well, a very expensive house with beautiful views. I have no reason to feel bad, really, but I still feel bad. I can't say I feel alive like you. And I've always been like this, in fact, avoiding danger, though a part of me wants to dive in. I wanted to be close to the action, to the fantasy, but without having to risk my neck."

  "I don't think you have anything to be ashamed of."

  "But they do it out of bravery and stupidity, but I think most basically have no choice. They can't have a normal life, and that's not something they're proud of."

  "Does the same go for you?" Alma asked.

  "Yes. I'd rather not talk about it, but seeing a normal or successful person... that you can feel so bad despite having a fantastic life, is a privilege. Everyone wants what they can't have."

  "I know what you're saying," Alma said. "That if I weren't a normal person, I'd already be fighting by your side, and probably dreaming of the life I have now, right?"

  "No, I can't say you're completely wrong."

  "I'm sorry, I know it's very late and we're practically strangers. You don't have to listen to all this, but I don't feel comfortable talking about this with my friends. I see you as so different. It's not even the first time I've seen a transformation like this, but you... when you arrived here, you..."

  "What?" James asked. "Just let it out, I'm not going to be offended. Probably whatever you're going to say, whatever it is, is true."

  "Well, you looked dead."

  James nodded.

  "Ah, yes, that's probably true. A radical change, huh? You also want to change, even though you're afraid. But, why don't you try it? You have a cushion, a safety net. If you don't like it, you can quit and go back to work. It's easy."

  Alma lowered her head, looking at her lap.

  "If I wanted to try it, would you come with me? Would you guide me?"

  "I don't know when you're going to decide, but I probably won't be any expert, not even then."

  "It's the same," she said. "I'd feel more comfortable with you."

  "Well, okay. If I can help you with anything, that's great by me."

  "Thank you. You're a good guy, not a creep at all. Well, I've bothered you enough. Good night."

  "Good night," he said.

  As soon as she left, he let himself fall back onto the bed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

  Ah, how complicated people were. Starting with oneself.