Chapter 65: Free Has Terms and Conditions
Chapter 65: Free Has Terms and Conditions
Bastion Ridge Tamer High nearly won on the first reading. It offered full tuition, accommodation, meals, and a generous beast allowance for the first term. Elsa was halfway through declaring it the winner when Arthur raised a hand.
"Wait. Scholarship recipients must remain in the top thirty percent of their year."
The room went quiet.
"What happens if he falls below it?" Elena asked.
Arthur traced the clause with one finger. "The beast allowance disappears first, then the accommodation support. After that, the family becomes responsible for the costs. Jin would be competing against students with combat talents and Bronze- or Silver-quality starting beasts. One bad term could make the entire scholarship collapse onto us."
Jin was privately confident in the Game Engine—absurdly confident, perhaps—but that was not the point. Signing a contract capable of trapping his family in debt, relying on a secret he could never reveal to the school, was exactly the kind of reckless he had been trying not to become.
"Reject it."
Redstone Combat Institute made him hesitate.
It provided full tuition, excellent practical-combat training, and immediate entry into a regular combat class despite his support classification. For someone who needed stronger opponents, it was easily the most tempting offer remaining.
Then Arthur found the service agreement.
"Several years of contracted field duty after graduation," he read. "For a private salvage company partnered with the school."
He continued in silence for a moment before setting down the phone.
"Service contracts aren’t inherently bad. Plenty of Tamers pay for their education that way. But this company chooses where you go, what you clear, and how dangerous the assignment is. If you refuse a posting, it can reclaim your training costs. You would be signing away the right to decide where you and Glitch fight."
Jin disliked the idea of anyone else holding that leash. Still, Redstone’s combat training and resources were real.
"Keep it on the shortlist," he said reluctantly. "Not because the contract is harmless. It isn’t. But the training is the best of anything left."
That left Meridian Beast High School.
Meridian was not the most prestigious name among the seven. It was a stable upper-middle institution in a larger, better-defended shelter, and the more Jin read, the more it seemed built around exactly what he needed.
It did not force students with support talents into a support track. They could earn entry into combat classes through performance assessments. Dormitory accommodation and standard meals remained covered for the entire school year. Its modest beast nutrition allowance renewed monthly. Basic medical care for one contracted beast was included, and students could borrow required equipment instead of purchasing it.
Most importantly, the scholarship could be cancelled only for serious misconduct or repeated academic failure—not because Jin slipped below an arbitrary class rank.
It was not perfect. The allowance covered only standard Iron-quality feed. Combat resources had to be earned. First-year students received limited access to advanced training grounds.
Privately, those restrictions barely mattered.
Jin did not need the school to provide all of Glitch’s combat experience. He had a dungeon, a Caiman that respawned daily, and a boss waiting beneath Rustwater Drain. What he needed from a school was exactly four things: stable food, legal access to resources, a real education, and enough privacy to hide Glitch’s growth.
Meridian offered all four.
The monthly Iron-quality feed allowance would ease the family’s food problem considerably. It might even make the next Sync affordable without emptying their kitchen. Three daily meals for Jin would relieve the household budget as well.
He kept his expression neutral. He had become very good at keeping his expression neutral whenever the Engine was involved.
"You have read the cafeteria page three times," Elsa said.
"Due diligence."
"You memorized Wednesday’s dessert."
"Thorough due diligence."
Elsa narrowed her eyes. Jin allowed it. The truth—I am evaluating this school partly as a supply chain for my secret talent—was not available for family discussion.
Each of them found something the others missed. Arthur understood the contracts, hidden fees, and ways schools exploited desperate Outer Ring families. Elena studied the distance and safety records, worrying about Jin moving to another shelter and entering combat courses where he could be seriously injured. Elsa searched student discussions, dormitory complaints, graduation rates, and everything the official pages avoided mentioning.
"Meridian’s food gets three stars," she announced. "Redstone’s gets one, and somebody wrote an entire essay about the mystery meat. We should include that in the final assessment."
"Naturally," Jin said. "Academic excellence can only compensate for so much."
Beneath the comparisons and jokes, however, a heavier thought settled inside him.
Every serious choice was somewhere else. Meridian was in another shelter entirely. His parents had spent their savings on the egg that made this possible. Elsa had spent years quietly being responsible whenever Jin was not. Now his reward for succeeding was to leave them in the Outer Ring while he moved somewhere safer with regular meals and better opportunities.
Arthur noticed his silence.
"Don’t," he said.
"I didn’t say anything."
"You didn’t have to. You have that look." Arthur leaned back. "We didn’t spend that money to keep you here. We spent it to give you a way out. That was the point."
His voice remained steady and unsentimental, which was the only way Jin could have accepted the words.
"You leaving because you succeeded is not the same as abandoning us. Get that straight now. You’ll need to remember it more than once."
For once, Jin could not find anything dry to say.
"...Okay."
Arthur nodded. "Good. Before you accept anything, we verify the school’s reputation and graduate outcomes, and we speak to an actual person. I’ve seen too many families sign a beautiful page and discover what it meant afterward."
As if Meridian had been listening, Jin’s phone chimed.
[Meridian Beast High School]
[Scholarship Candidate Interview Available]
[Remote Consultation Scheduled: Today, 18:00]
[Purpose: Scholarship Terms, Student Placement, and Candidate Questions]
Beneath the notification waited another attachment.
[Practical Combat Placement Petition]
Jin opened it and went still.
It offered students with support classifications a chance to petition for immediate entry into the regular combat program instead of waiting for Meridian’s slower performance-assessment route.
There was only one requirement.
He had to prove that his beast met the combat standard.
There it was: the problem waiting behind Meridian’s otherwise excellent offer, printed neatly in a school attachment. The school would house him, feed him, support Glitch, and give him a legitimate path into combat classes. All he had to do was demonstrate to trained evaluators that an ordinary Iron-quality Grey Rock Lizard belonged there.
Show them too little, and the petition would be rejected, forcing him to earn combat placement through Meridian’s slower assessment route.
Show them too much, and someone might start asking how an ordinary Grey Rock Lizard had already reached 2-Star, possessed two useful skills, and was developing far faster than its species should.
Meridian was willing to feed Glitch, house Jin, and let him fight for a place in the combat program.
All Jin had to do was convince them that an ordinary Grey Rock Lizard belonged there.
Preferably without showing them just how unordinary Glitch had become.