To be fair, the meeting that followed turned out to be more of a conversation than an interrogation. Luke explained the Tutorial Dungeon, what they faced in there: classes, levels, items, and everything else he could think of. Nothing about what they’d been up to was secret, and it’d be common knowledge soon enough, anyway, so he saw no harm in sharing. Also, that burger bought a lot of goodwill.

  "If not for the information we’ve received from other cities, this all would have sounded like an unbelievable mess," the DIA officer, who’d introduced himself as Stevens, said, leaning back into his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose.

  "I’m not a liar," Luke said, his voice even.

  Stevens made an appeasing gesture. "Make no mistake, I’m not insinuating you’re providing me with untruths. It’s just difficult to wrap my head around these developments."

  "Do you want me to heal you?" Luke asked.

  "Heal me?" Stevens asked. "I’m not injured, as far as I know."

  "You have a heart defect."

  Stevens blinked. "So, as a healer class, Lifeweaver, like you mentioned, are you able to heal non-Integrated?"

  "I think so," Luke said. "Haven’t tried, but I don’t see why not."

  "Please," Stevens said.

  Luke put his hand on the table between them, palm up. "Give me your hand."

  "What?"

  "I’ll need to touch you," Luke said. This wasn’t the time to experiment with Weaver’s Grasp.

  Stevens put his hand out and Luke closed his eyes, concentrating. Threads of Mana surged through the arm, past the shoulder, and into his patient’s chest. Stevens had a defect known as ventricular septal defect, a complicated name for a hole between the two lower chambers of the heart. It required open heart surgery to cure, but Luke didn’t need something so complicated.

  Using Needle of Life, Luke sutured the defect closed with mana in a matter of moments while Stevens turned pale, made faces, and whimpered through clenched teeth a few times. Complex and difficult, yes, but his improved mana control was up to the task.

  "There. Done," Luke said, withdrawing.

  Stevens clutched his chest, steadying his breath with impressive control. "That was unpleasant."

  "But now you won’t die soon just because some hack failed to diagnose you properly when you were a kid."

  "Thank you," Stevens said, nodding. "Are all healers able to perform miracles like this?"

  "Don’t know. Only met one other healer, a strange one, but he healed everything."

  "Interesting," Stevens said. "And are you going to make a living from this?"

  Luke blinked. "Huh?"

  "Non-medical healing is a significant industry, and that is without any proven effect. Your ability will have the ill and wealthy lining up outside your door."

  Luke cleared his throat and looked away from the agent’s intense gaze. "So, can I go now?"

  He hadn't thought about it like that, but it was an interesting option.

  "Of course. Expect a call from the DIA."

  "Call?" Luke asked, frowning. "Why?"

  "While we know little about what has happened here in the last 24 hours, some things are clear," Stevens began. "The world has changed, and the Tutorial Dungeon was just that, a tutorial. More will be coming, and we will have to be ready for it. The Department of Integrated Affairs will need access to all Integrated in case of an emergency."

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  "So, does that mean that you want to hire me?" Luke asked.

  Stevens clasped his hands on top of the table and shook his head. "We have not yet been cleared to recruit Integrated, but we expect the decision to come down soon. As I am sure you understand, there is a lot at play here. Decisions will have to be made on a national level, and legislation amended to these new circumstances. Society will need to adapt. So while I can't make any guarantees, we will need you in the future."

  He dipped his hand into a bag next to his chair and came out with a tablet.

  "A lot of the information we have gathered makes this system look and feel like something out of a video game, so, on the recommendation of our advisory team, we are borrowing terms from modern role-playing games. Class types are divided into Damage, Tank, and Support, though this may change in the future. Support type classes are rare according to our newest figures. Very rare."

  "Makes sense," Luke said. "People want to be powerful."

  "Indeed," Stevens said.

  Luke stood. "I think I'll get out of here now."

  "Of course," Stevens said.

  As he left the little room, Luke saw others coming in from the registration room. He exchanged a look with a squat, blond woman in her 50s wearing orange overalls covered in blood. She smiled and gave him a little wave, and he returned it before heading for the exit.

  Luke froze as he left the building. Flashes from cameras assaulted him. Security guards were posted to either side of the exit, but none of them raised a hand to help Luke past the throng of excited men and women boxing him in and shoving microphones into his face. People hurled questions at him.

  "What's your name?" one called out.

  "I'm Luke," Luke said, swatting the microphones away and pushing past the first line of reporters.

  "How does it feel to be one of the first people leaving the Tutorial Dungeon in Chicago?"

  "I just want to go home," Luke said.

  "What class did you pick?" It was a woman's voice, clear and loud without shouting, and when he looked up, she held a Bluetooth microphone up to him while filming on her phone.

  "I'm a healer," he said.

  Her blue eyes glittered with excitement, and her mouth split into a smile. "Can you show us?"

  "Yeah, show us!" the mass of people screamed.

  "Is anyone here sick or wounded?" Luke asked.

  "I have a headache!" someone shouted.

  "My brother broke his neck and can't walk," the blue-eyed woman said. Her voice was low, but still carried.

  "Is he here?" Luke asked.

  The mass of people had pushed them together. They stood far too close now, and Luke squirmed.

  "No," she said.

  Luke brought out his phone, fumbled and almost dropped it, then held it out to her, showing his number. "Have your brother contact me and I'll see what I can do."

  Then he spun and pointed into the crowd, to a man in his forties wearing a suit, the top button of his white shirt open to show a tuft of chest hair.

  "You have a gash on your arm!" Luke shouted, once again having to raise his voice for the crowd to hear him.

  All the reporters turned to the man, who removed his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeve to show a large, stained bandage. Luke forced his way forward and put his hand on the injured man's upper arm. "Please take off the bandage."

  After hesitating, Luke's new patient followed his order and removed the bandage, wincing as he exposed a sweet-smelling wound. It was infected. Closing his eyes, Luke used the crude method of healing, a flash of mana, forcing the wound closed and eliminating the infection. This way had proved faster and without pain, but it consumed almost all of his mana. Not a viable method most of the time.

  Luke's healing received gasps from the crowd and then a round of applause that sent heat to his cheeks.

  "Where can we reach you if we need healing?" someone in the crowd asked.

  Luke formed a cone with his hands and shouted his email, refusing to answer any more questions. Stevens’s comments about making a living from healing lingered in his mind. This was the first step toward building something new. Something great.

  After that, he fought his way free of the crowd and quickened his pace when he realized some were following him through the park. They shouted for him to wait, but Luke needed to get away, so he ran, rounding the closed-off area around the massive orb.

  Most of those chasing him soon stopped when they saw someone casting a spell near the exit, and the last couple of them gave up and turned back soon after. A swirl of water danced in the air over their heads. Good. Someone else for them to harass. The crowd waiting in line to reach the orb was even longer than when he arrived, but he didn't pay them much mind as he slowed down and made his way to where he'd parked his bike.

  It waited for him where he'd left it, except someone had stolen the back wheel.

  "Who the hell steals the back wheel of a bike?" Luke muttered, looking around to see if they'd thrown it into a bush or something.

  But no, it was gone. Luke would have to find another way to get home and see his sister. The thought made his chest flutter with excitement. After all he'd gone through, he finally had the opportunity to find what was wrong with Milla. In a single day, everything had changed, and his promise to heal his sister was no longer a failure weighing on his shoulders.

  With no buses running and having forgotten about the influx of cash from Alan, Luke ran.