Top Ranker's Second Chance: I Am the Lord of Passive Skills

"Gather up," Ace said casually.

His gang obeyed as if he were a Supreme Commander. They dropped into their trademark Slavic squats and formed a circle, leaving one spot for their Don Capo. Not wanting to loom over them, Ace crouched too. Using a branch, he scratched three lines in the dirt. Every eye locked on them.

On the left‑most line he drew a "+", then looked around.

"We're gonna play a coordination game. It has six classes. Any of you ever play an MMO?"

Every bald head shook.

"Course not. First class is the bishop—the healer. He keeps everyone alive. Sure, personal strength matters, but numbers matter too. I'd hate to lose any of you."

"Don Capo…" the thugs muttered, sniffling.

"No one wants to be a healer?" Ace asked again, ignoring the sniffles. Figures. These guys just wanna fight, so they'll flock to knight.

One thug awkwardly lifted his hand. The others stared at him like he'd grown a second head.

"You wanna heal, Marko?"

Marko grinned. "Yeah! I wanna be smart!"

Ace's eyebrow twitched. "What?"

"Healers are like doctors, right? Doctors are smart."

You should've hit the books instead of smoking cigs in basements, Ace thought, then kept his tone calm. "Wearing glasses doesn't make you smart, but fine. You're the bishop. If someone takes five hits, they're 'dead.' Lay a hand on them and count to ten out loud to revive."

"Leave it to me, Don Capo!" Marko shouted while the others jeered.

Alex muttered, "Being smart? So boring."

Ace cleared his throat. "We need a second healer. Each team needs one."

The gang traded looks. No one moved. Their twisted faces said it all.

Ace sighed. "Okay, only one team gets a healer."

The thugs cheered.

"As expected of Don Capo—he knows us best!"

Ace let it slide and drew a shield on the next line.

"Second class: the rook, the tank."

"A tank? You renting us a real tank?" one thug asked, eyes sparkling. Others joined in.

Ace glared. They shut up.

"The tank's the armored frontline. He holds ground and soaks hits. In our game a tank only dies if three people each hit him five times."

Alex's eyes lit up. "I'm the tank!"

"Yeah," Ace said at once. The man was built like a bear. "Anyone else?"

Three more big guys raised hands.

In the middle line Ace drew a sword.

"Next, DPS—the knight. Melee, hits hard, works with tanks and healers. Who wants—"

A forest of hands flew up.

"We'll play this often, so pick just four knights," Ace said.

Chaos erupted.

"You didn't have the balls to hit on Angelica! You can't hit anyone hard!" one thug yelled.

"Why bring that up? You wet your pants till you were fifteen! You got cock issues!" the other fired back.

Bro, it's bladder issues, if anything… Ace sighed.

Ten minutes later four knights were settled. So far: one healer, four tanks, four knights. Nine slots filled. Three classes left.

On the next two lines Ace drew crowns.

"King and Queen. Each team gets one. The King—support—buffs two allies; those allies kill in three strikes while he calls the shots. The Queen's the top damage dealer: kills in three, or two when the King buffs her."

"That's you, Don Capo!" a thug said. The rest nodded. "Queen of the Board suits you!"

No one liked taking a female title, yet everyone agreed the strongest class belonged to Don Capo.

Ace shook his head.

"I'm a pawn—a scout," he said, drawing the last symbol. "Pawns track, gather info, call it in, then fight and poke holes. If they reach enemy territory, they can 'promote' and become any class."

Silence. The thugs' faces twisted like pretzels.

"No one wants to scout?"

Heads shook.

"Fine, I'll be the lone scout. Pick your Kings and Queens; the rest are knights. We'll head to the nearest forest and start."

Ace stood, already splitting them into two teams.

—

A gang of sixteen people walked down the street, turning heads. Their black suits and odd caps made them look strangely peaceful.

At the front strode a teenaged boy—the only one without a cap. He had short black hair and hazel eyes.

Though he looked ordinary, he carried himself like a leader, and everyone kept close. When the gang slipped into the forest, passersby didn't suspect anything; Don Capo's name eased their minds.

"Each team gets ten minutes to prepare," Ace announced. "Since I'm the only pawn, I can leave our side five minutes early to scout. We win when all enemies die or their king falls."

"Understood, Don Capo!"

A short, memorable game began.