"I am quite sure that you are interested in knowing why I said that there are rookies born with skills already," Elderwood said as they walked, his hands clasped behind his back in a way that made him look more serious than usual.
Reever nodded lightly. He was interested. Not curious in the excited sense, but alert. Information in this world was a weapon, and Elderwood rarely spoke without a reason.
"You see, in the outside world, everything now is about power," Elderwood continued. "And I am not talking about authority, money, or influence. I am talking about real power. The kind that changes what you can and cannot do."
Reever glanced at him. Elderwood sounded unusually reflective, almost like he was rehearsing a lecture he had given many times before.
"I am forty three years old," Elderwood added, puffing out his chest slightly. "And from the few years I have lived, I have seen enough to understand how things truly work."
Reever raised a brow beneath his helmet. The gesture went unseen, but the thought was there. Elderwood was trying very hard to sound experienced, not knowing that the being beside him had lived far longer than entire civilizations. Reever let it slide. There was no point correcting him.
Elderwood cleared his throat and continued. "After the game evolved, around five hundred years ago, humans started developing mystical powers. The developers made the game so realistic that ranking up inside the game directly affected your body outside. Skills, stats, everything carried over. That was when everything changed."
Reever slowed his steps slightly, giving Elderwood his full attention.
"When power became real, lifespan followed," Elderwood said. "A normal human who has never played the game can live up to one hundred and twenty years. A rookie can reach one hundred and fifty. A veteran can live for two hundred years. Elite ranked players can go up to three hundred. Elite pros reach four hundred. Masters can live for five hundred years. Grandmasters live for seven hundred."
He paused, letting the numbers sink in.
"As for legendary and mythical ranked players," he added, "their lifespan is unknown."
Reever felt something tighten inside him. Not fear, not excitement, but a cold understanding. Longevity like that did not just change individuals. It reshaped families, societies, and power structures.
"With lifespans like these," Elderwood continued, "families stopped thinking in decades. They started thinking in centuries. Bloodlines formed. Some families today have histories stretching over five hundred years. Some are led by legendary or mythical ranked players."
He let out a quiet sigh, his tone darkening. "Those families do not just have power. They control resources, opportunities, and influence that normal people can never touch."
Reever said nothing. He was processing. Slowly, carefully.
"When I said this world is ruled by those with power," Elderwood said, "I meant it literally. You cannot enter certain organizations unless you reach a specific rank. The army, for example. To enlist, you must be at least Elite rank. Many corporations require power for high authority positions. Even politics is no exception."
He shook his head. "This forces people to play the game. Refusing is no longer an option. Right now, more than ninety nine percent of the world's population are powered individuals."
That statistic lingered heavily.
"With families gaining power," Elderwood went on, "children started inheriting things. Not ranks, luckily. Ranks cannot be passed down. But skills can."
Reever's steps faltered for just a moment.
"When a player reaches Grandmaster," Elderwood explained, "their body undergoes a complete transformation. Old age is reversed. Physical limits are rewritten. Unless they are killed, they can live for seven hundred years. That level of change allows genetic transmission of skills."
Reever frowned beneath his armor. He had not encountered such players personally, but the implications were terrifying.
"So children born into these families," Elderwood said, "can inherit ingrained skills even before entering the game. A Grandmaster's child can inherit up to five skills."
Five.
"And those children have years," Elderwood added, "decades even, to practice before they ever step into the game. Combine that with inherited CP, and you get monsters."
Reever imagined it. A child entering the game with practiced skills, massive resources, high quality armor, top tier weapons, advanced bullets, and powerful gadgets. After just a few victories, they could join world communities and fully equip themselves.
"They dominate their rank," Elderwood said quietly. "Completely."
Then he looked at Reever.
"I am sure you are a descendant of one of those families," Elderwood said. "You have rare armor, a powerful weapon, and more CP than most rookies could dream of."
Reever did not respond. His armor hid his expression, but inside, his thoughts churned. If Elderwood knew the truth, he would probably choke on his own words.
"But here is where things change," Elderwood continued. "When ranking up to Elite, the world starts correcting the imbalance."
Reever listened closely.
"The stronger you are, the harder your ascension becomes," Elderwood said. "Those born with skills face far more dangerous rank up sessions. The world tries to level the field."
He scoffed softly. "Of course, life is still unfair. Powerful families simply provide stronger tools. Defensive gear. Emergency items. Survival measures. They endure what others cannot."
He sighed again. "That is reality."
"So basically," Reever said flatly, "the better the family, the better your future."
Elderwood nodded. "That is how it is. That is why people rush to rank up. They are not doing it just for themselves. They are building a foundation for generations."
He glanced at Reever. "So do not rush into having kids like an idiot. Get powerful first."
Reever almost laughed.
Bro, I am a bot. How exactly am I supposed to have kids?
He kept the thought to himself and smiled instead.
"So," Elderwood said, clapping his hands once, "you want to rank up to Veteran. Let us head to the main gate. The system will scan you and check if you qualify for a rank up match."
They reached the massive gate at the edge of the community, where players came and went, disappearing in flashes of light.
"Once scanned," Elderwood continued, "you will be placed into your rank up match. Win, and you advance."
He took a step back and grinned. "Wish me luck too. I am attempting my Elite rank up. If I fail, I could lose items. Worst case, I lose a rank."
He shrugged. "Still worth it. I might get a good profession or powerful skills."
Elderwood scanned his entry pass. A beam of light swept over his body.
"And do not forget," he said as his form began to fade, "meet Crimson and the crew once you rank up."
With that, he disappeared.
Reever stepped forward as the scanner passed through him, his details being read by the system.
Veteran rank.
It was the next step. Not just in strength, but toward freedom.
And he would not fail.