Page 325 of Light Leech

“I appreciate the confidence, but–”

“Pet, if there’s anything I’m qualified for, it’s this.”

“What do you mean?”

She flipped the card over, furrowing her brow in slight disappointment. “Where’s the logo?”

“You know this game?”

“Of course I do. It’s Luminate League.”

“That neurospace card game you were talking about?”

“The very same. I wish Boyband were here to see how not-stupid this is.”

“Is it hard to play?”

“The mechanics are pretty simple, but the strategy… it’s like chess. I mean, the game is different, but the idea is the same. You’ll have no problem as long as these people don’t have any experience, which I doubt.”

“I had only heard it mentioned like once or twice before you did. Is it really that popular?”

“In these circles? Yeah. I’m sure we’re surrounded by pros.”

“Because they’re a bunch of try-hard nerds? I mean, that kind of fits you–”

“Shut up.” She paused. “Take me, add more corporate and incel, and that’s your classic space-filler player. The best though, are the people you would never expect. Some teenage girl who owns a social-net cult and dominates the algorithm with persuasion based on her League victories. Some dad working a Yellow District level job but can afford to live in the blue based on League gambling. Indigo level CEOs who earn each other’s respect based on League proficiency. Anyone who doesn’t look like they play, might play, but you can count on most self-proclaimed Scholars being able to hold their weight in a match. You plug?”

“I guess.”

“Don’t worry though, I’ll help you with some tricks once things get moving.”

“You’re sure you’ll be able to?”

“Not really, I just wanted to make you feel better.”

“Are you serious?”

“What? We’re being handed cards that shouldn’t exist in the game, so we can expect the rest of the deck to be made up by this system. I’ll try my best to help out, but seeing how our Gui are actually the cards, I figure they’ll be able to help make up for what you lack in experience.“ She inspected her card. “I’m guessing the rest of the deck will carry some kind of theme related to these ones.”

“If our decks are based on our Gui, what do you think everyone else will have?”

She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by an announcement that read a message floating in the center aloud.

“Segement three: Luminate League. While many of you may be experienced with this game, you will now compete on a new level. Those with prior experience may have an advantage over the less experienced players, but that does not eliminate the less experienced players. As with previous tests, this tests the competitor’s mind, not a single skill. In this segment of The Standardized Test, you will compete for cognitive superiority. While the previous tests measure one’s ability to learn and persuade, this version of Luminate League will prove who is intellectually superior beyond any measure. The victors of this event prove their worth over their opponents. Those who fail are not worthy of Pure Knowledge. This is the final segment of The Standardized Test. Unlike in the previous segments, there is no guaranteed number of passing competitors. No more than four may pass, though if the final four competitors prove unworthy it is possible that fewer will pass. A victor-less Standardized Test is not only possible, but common.”

I looked at Ralia, mirroring her disgusted glare.

The announcement continued. “Each player will be given a standard twelve-legend deck with a provided selection of action cards of their choosing. Players will be placed in a standard thirty-six-person bracket, though the form is subject to change following each match. Gamble decks will be randomized and filled with Test-exclusive cards. Matches will begin simultaneously and rival matches can be seen during play as all matches occur in a single stadium. You have ten minutes to prepare for the first round. Please familiarize yourself with your main card, as the rest of your deck will be created to fit this Legend card. The rest of your deck and your optional ability cards will be hidden until the tournament begins with pre-match card selection.”

Ralia shook her head. “That still doesn’t clarify why our Gui are on the cards.”

The announcement continued with eerie relevance. “You may note the creature on your card aligns with the Light Leech given to you when you applied for the Standardized Test.”

Ralia glared at me, her eyes hinting at the discomfort of not understanding. Her perplexity deepened my anxiety. I no longer worried about how the system knew our Gui. That was a trivial concern compared to the immediate responses to our conversations. Perhaps the other rules and comments were a result of the other competitors’ questions, but I doubted that was the case.

Are you telling the system to clarify everything?

“No.“ Zhu replied.