Oliver stalked along the branch he awoke upon, or rather, he thought he stalked at least a little bit, but in reality, it looked far more as though he had soiled himself, and was attempting to avoid his legs rubbing against the product of his accident. Periodically he would stop, stand flush against a branch, wait for a moment, before moving on. This was, of course, not because he feared something had seen him and him thus wanting to be completely hidden, that would be understandable even if it would be the wrong choice. No, he pressed himself against the huge pillars of wood because he, for unknown reasons, thought it would make him less visible while he looked time and time again at his status. He could, of course, almost not be more wrong about his theory of visibility. In fact, as he stood against the branches he practically made himself a target board with all the contrasts between himself and the dark brown bark. His dark grey pants and black sneakers were the most hidden and least important part of his body, other than that there was his bright red scarf and brown school satchel, both of them at least somewhat matched the forest.

Then there were the many problem areas. The largest one most definitely was his bright white cotton shirt, which handily outlined the place on his body with the most organs against the dark bark. Simultaneously, its sleeves were rolled up to his elbows allowing his thin, pale wrists to stand out against both the tree and his shirt with their creamier color, leaving the vain-filled, delicate areas both highlighted and completely unprotected. The last target zone he had which stood out from the rest was his head. While his bright golden hair made it at least slightly hidden among the autumn leaves of the forest, even that slight mercy was outweighed by the fact that his pale skin stood out enough for even his hair to be irrelevant. The last cherry on top was his bright, sky-blue eyes being either a very large contrast or direct opposite to literally every other natural color in the forest, acting as the bull’s eyes of the target board he made himself into, pinpointing exactly where the most vulnerable points on his body were.

The reason he so often stopped to stand in a way he thought kept him hidden was the uncertainty he held for what he would choose, namely what class he would take. When he finally realized that he needed to sit down and think it over thoroughly at once instead of thinking in infrequent bursts, he sat against a nearby branch and first gathered everything he knew and could reason out about the system. The system was magic, that was indisputable since if there wasn’t magic involved, then the trees wouldn’t be able to support their own weight, or go unnoticed. The system used the ten-digit system, at least he assumed so, since while the evidence only confirmed that it could work on a digit system of nine and up, but he wasn’t that much more dexterous than he was strong, and working from anything else without direct confirmation would be unnecessary. If he then worked from the assumption that these classes were too basic to ‘achieve your wildest dreams' and that the system put some form of significance on the number ten, then it wouldn’t be too much of a leap to say that a class specialized or improved at level ten. Looking only at the stats the choice seemed obvious, with the unpredictable’s freedom when it came to attributes immediately jumping off the page to him, but there were other dangers, or rather, there could be other dangers. His main concern was the line in the description reading as ‘and while that path is often fraught with danger, it also gives... huh’ which practically told him that there was some form of danger or challenge to the class that the other classes didn’t have, and that said challenge had no reward other than the class itself. Brawn was already out, he wanted to wield magic, not weapons. There was only one question preventing him from immediately picking the brain class to get all the stats he wanted and avoid the hidden danger of the unpredictable class. And that was the question of how hard magic was to learn. Based on the fact that the description of the brain class mentioned it, stating only that it was hard to learn but not impossible, it was clearly something you could use before your class improved. Mana was obviously something that came with or because of the system, that much was clear, after all, if nine levels that you could gain with some ease was enough time and stats to harness mana, then at least one of the people who dedicated their lives to trying to discover magic would have found it.

He honestly didn’t care too much for whatever challenge the unpredictable class came with, it might be slightly annoying but he was sure he could overcome it if he tried. What really intrigued him was the prospect of some benefit or bonus the other classes got. Besides, he was going to become a wizard anyways, so what difference would the versatile stat placement make if he allocated the attribute points in the same manner either way?

And so, after thinking over which essentially identical class would be best, he finally chose the Brains class.

The moment he made his choice, changing the undecided on his status to a Brains, to the most basic of all classes, he finally understood what the system meant for humanity. Power of a kind he had never before felt, not the mana all around him, not any of the forms of energy of the old world, no, this was different on a scale he could not perceive. Oliver only knew that when the power swept through him like the wind through a field, forcing the wheat to bow to it, so did the energy force his body to comply, to be what it wanted it to be. And what it wanted his body to be was stronger. His skin didn’t thicken, his skinny frame did not suddenly burst with new muscles, and his nerves did not expand to carry more information. No, they were simply more. more powerful, more durable, more swift, just… better.

when the message appeared his leather sachel was suddenly heavier than before, and when he looked inside there were indeed five round fist-sized rocks next to his computer in the bag, which, honestly, wasn’t too bad. After all, he didn’t actually know how to use any weapons he could have gotten, and while some sort of wand to help with magic could have been nice, he still didn’t know how to use magic, so it would have been useless for a while anyways. And so, after taking one of the rocks in his hand to be prepared, he continued his mocking parody of anyone who has ever stalked, be they hunter, thief, or assassin, until he finally came upon something new.

By this point he had walked for some time, and he had made his way to a thinner branch that was only as wide as a one-way street, after walking along the branch for a short while, he saw a crossing of sorts as a larger branch crossed below the one he walked on. This in and of itself wasn’t noteworthy, but the person with dark brown skin and raven hair with a bleeding leg desperately holding back the maw of a far-too-large fox from biting into his throat as it clawed his arms open was. And before Oliver had time to even think a rock was flying through the air towards the fox, hitting it in the back of the head. The fox stopped before it whirled around to look at Oliver with its bloodied teeth exposed in a growl.

“You know, I am sure there is some culture where throwing a rock at the back of someone's head from a hidden position is a sign of great respect,” Oliver said with an apologetic smile as he slowly fished out a rock with each hand while backing away.

the fox sprung off the wounded man as it sprinted towards the crossing of branches before climbing up towards Oliver with its teeth bared.

“I don’t think it got the joke, as clearly it wouldn’t attack after that great a joke, maybe try explaining it, I know they say that the best way to ruin a joke is to explain it, but I assure you that your joke can’t possibly get worse from it” the man drawled.