Chapter 323: First-Class

Chapter 323: First-Class

Jin read the notice twice before asking whether a line was missing.

Marris turned the document toward herself, checked it, and slid it back.

"No."

"But that’s two classes." He pointed, as though she might have overlooked the same thing he hadn’t. "Third to First."

"Yes, Astor. That’s what the notice says."

[Meridian Academy — Academic Standing Notice]

[Student: Astor, Jin]

[Previous standing: Third-Class]

[Revised standing: First-Class]

[Effective: immediately]

[Grounds: exceptional competitive performance and demonstrated promise.]

He had imagined reaching Second-Class after a good performance. Even that had felt optimistic before the League. First-Class was where the students he had spent his first delegation briefing quietly worrying about belonged.

Elsa leaned so far across his chair that he moved the notice closer for her.

"Oh my God," she said. "First-Class."

"Elena, would you like to see it?" Marris asked, producing a second copy before his sister could take his.

His mother accepted it carefully. Arthur read over her shoulder.

Jin looked back at the coach. "You’re sure?"

"I’ve already signed it." Marris sounded amused now. "You demonstrated that you can contribute at a much higher level than your old placement suggested. The academy wants your support to reflect that."

"I haven’t reached Rank 2."

"This is a class promotion, not a claim that you have." She let him absorb that. "You’ll still have things to catch up on. You’ll also have better help doing it."

Elsa tested the words under her breath while Marris opened the accompanying document.

"Jin Astor, First-Class."

"Please don’t start," he told her.

"I haven’t started anything."

"You’ve said it four times."

"I’m checking how it sounds."

Elena touched her daughter’s arm, though she was smiling too. "Let Coach Marris finish."

Jin tried to pay attention. Part of him was still sitting at the back of that lecture theatre, counting students whose profiles he couldn’t hope to match.

Dray belonged in First-Class. Renn belonged there. He had watched them work and knew how much experience separated them from him. A new notice wasn’t going to put that experience into his head.

Still, he wanted to look at the heading again.

Marris waited until his eyes returned to her tablet.

"The feed allowance increases substantially," she began. "Glitch’s approved diet at his present development falls within your new provision. That includes the recovery feed prescribed by the veterinary team."

"All of that?" Jin asked.

"The approved allocation, yes. Additional specialized items still need authorization."

He looked down at the document. Feeding Glitch properly had occupied so much of his budget that he had grown used to treating every other expense as something that happened afterward.

I can stop checking the price before I check what he needs.

Not completely, perhaps. But often enough to matter.

"The stipend is larger," Marris continued. "You also receive a term resource allowance, specialist instruction, and priority booking for the advanced halls and breakthrough facilities."

Arthur glanced up. "Priority, or unrestricted access?"

"Priority," Marris said. "Safety requirements and supervision still apply. An allocation isn’t permission to use equipment you’re not ready for."

Jin nodded before she turned toward him.

"And you are not training yet," she said. "Nor is Glitch."

"I know."

"Good. I want you asking useful questions when you’re cleared, not arriving at a practice hall tomorrow because your access card opens the door."

He thought of Glitch trying to rise on the carry-frame that morning. "You may need to explain that to him too."

"I intend to leave his explanation to the veterinary team." Marris changed the page. "There’s new accommodation as well."

The room reassignment was effective that evening, subject to the care staff approving Glitch’s transfer.

Jin hadn’t expected to move so quickly. His first thought was of the things he had left in his old room: spare feed containers, Flicker’s supplies, notes stacked beside his bed, clothes he hoped nobody would mistake for clean ones.

"I’ll need to pack," he said.

"Someone can help," Elena offered.

"I can do it."

Arthur looked at him.

Jin corrected himself. "I can tell someone where things are."

His father seemed satisfied with that distinction.

Beside him, Elena had lowered the benefits sheet onto her lap. Her attention kept returning to the feed provision and accommodation rather than the title at the top.

"That will help," she said quietly.

"A lot," Jin admitted.

Arthur asked whether the medical arrangements would continue after the move. Marris confirmed that Glitch would remain under the same care team, with scheduled visits and access to the care wing whenever needed.

Only then did his father lean back.

Jin realized they had been asking about everything that might go wrong with the good news. Before the tournament, he might have found that irritating. Now he was glad someone had remembered to ask.

"The council materials," he said. "Can the foundation specialist look at his skill load too?"

"That’s part of the assessment," Marris replied. "Core condition, development, bloodline indicators, what he can safely sustain. We’ll begin with your records and a consultation. The physical workup follows when he’s fit."

He wanted that more than a catalog of rewards. Ten skills on a Silver foundation had stopped being an interesting number when he watched Glitch struggle to lift his head.

"Would I need to bring him to the first meeting?"

"Not if she’s only reviewing the history. I’ll send the referral today and let her office arrange it around your restrictions."

Jin nodded. He could tell a specialist about the visible awakening, the combination, and the recovery problems. The Engine would stay private, but that still left plenty worth examining.

He didn’t have to choose a breakthrough resource by himself simply because he could appraise it.

The new quarters were in the First-Class residential block. A porter took Jin up in the broad service lift while his family followed with Marris.

"The handlers use this for large beasts," she explained. "The reinforced corridor leads directly to the stalls. You won’t be trying to get Glitch through an ordinary bedroom door."

That answered a question he hadn’t wanted to ask after hearing fourth floor.

His room had a desk large enough for both a tablet and an open book, a wardrobe that wasn’t wedged against the bed, and a window overlooking the practice halls.

Jin went to the window first. Students were moving between sessions below. From here, he could see a corner of the hall where Sabel had repeatedly knocked him off balance.

He was going to have to face her again eventually.

Maybe she’ll congratulate me before she hits me this time.

"Come look," Elsa called.

A door in the side wall opened onto a shallow ramp into the adjoining beast space. The wide loading gate faced the reinforced service corridor, while Jin could reach the bedding directly from his room.

The stall was several times larger than his old one. Its trough could be adjusted low enough for Glitch to eat without standing, and the care staff had already marked where his frame should go.

"They checked his requirements," Jin said.

Marris nodded. "Before assigning the room."

He ran a hand along the gate, testing its width with his eyes. He could get beside Glitch here without climbing around a trough or moving everything out of the way.

Flicker chose that moment to leave his shoulder. She flew through the open doorway, circled once, and landed on the perch rail along the far wall.

Elsa followed her down the ramp. "She likes it."

"She likes anywhere she gets to inspect before Glitch," Jin said.

Glitch arrived that evening with two handlers and a veterinary technician. He woke during the transfer, looked around the unfamiliar space, and sent a faint question through the bond.

"It’s ours," Jin told him from beside the frame. "Bigger room. Better trough."

Glitch inspected the trough. Flicker called from her rail, drawing his attention upward. After a moment he lowered his head, apparently willing to reserve judgment until dinner.

Jin stayed while the technician checked the supports and explained how to reach the night staff. When she left, he sat in the chair by the connecting door, close enough to see both beasts.

His phone lit up with the referral confirmation.

[Foundation consultation requested.]

[Please provide the current care records and available skill history before your appointment.]

Jin read the second line again.

For the first time, somebody was going to examine all ten skills together and tell him what Glitch’s foundation could bear.

He wanted that answer badly.

He was beginning to realize he was afraid of it too.