E-Rank or SSS-Rank: I Awakened a Skill That Shouldn't Exist-Chapter 100: Game master

Chapter 100

In front of a towering building with flashing neon signs stood two boys. The first had puffy cheeks and bright yellow hair—Chip. The second, with messy black hair and a mischievous grin, was Rin. Above them, glowing in bold letters, was the name of the building: GAME WORLD.

Rin stared up at it, his grin widening.

"Time to enter my world," he said, and pushed the door open.

Inside, the building was a paradise for gamers—aisles packed with combat simulators, racing booths, VR arenas, and mystery puzzle boxes. Rin’s eyes sparkled as he took it all in. Without wasting a second, he rushed over to the nearest game terminal and dove right in. Chip followed, still trying to grasp the sheer scale of the place.

Within minutes, Rin had already completed the first game. He stepped back, unimpressed.

"Too easy," he muttered.

He moved to the next, and then the next. One after another, the machines fell before his skill. In just thirty minutes, Rin had cleared eight game boxes. Chip, meanwhile, was still on his first, muttering complaints as he fumbled through the controls.

Meanwhile, at the top of the building in the control room, a technician let out a gasp.

"Sir! You need to see this!" she called, motioning to a man in a crisp blue suit.

He walked over, curious.

"What is it?"

The technician pointed at the screen.

"Someone is clearing multiple game terminals... surpassing our recorded speed."

The man’s eyes narrowed.

"Who?"

With a click, the surveillance feed switched to Rin, effortlessly dismantling the eighth game. He didn’t even look tired.

The man blinked, stunned.

"He’s clearing them like they’re nothing..." he whispered. Then, with admiration in his voice:

"He moves like... the Game Lord himself."

Without hesitation, the man in the blue suit turned and hurried out of the room.

"I need to meet that boy."

---

Back on the floor, Rin had just finished a tougher puzzle game. It made him pause and think for a while, but even that didn’t last. With a triumphant beep, the screen displayed "CONGRATULATIONS – CLEARED!"

As Rin stepped back, a voice called out.

"Impressive."

He turned to see the man in the blue suit approaching with a smile.

"What’s your name?"

Rin eyed him warily.

"Why do you want to know?"

The man chuckled.

"Because someone like you must love a challenge."

Rin nodded slowly.

"Follow me," the man said.

Chip, noticing Rin walking off, quickly followed.

"Hey, are we in trouble?" he whispered.

"No clue," Rin replied, shrugging.

They passed through rows of standard red-and-blue game terminals until they reached a door labeled VIP ONLY. The man tapped his badge, and the door slid open. Inside, the space was sleeker—polished floors, glowing walls, and most notably, silver game boxes.

"Welcome to the real Game World," the man said. He led them to one of the machines.

"If you can beat this within an hour, I’ll give you three limited-edition games—games not even released yet."

Rin’s eyes lit up.

"Deal."

He sat down at the console. After a few button presses, the screen came to life. The game’s title read: ARC – The Inescapable Cell.

A voice narrated:

"Choose a villain. Break out of the unbreakable."

Rin smirked and selected a character. The game launched. It was no ordinary game—ARC was a brutal escape simulator. He had to navigate through a high-security prison, avoid traps, disable systems, outwit guards, and survive countless death scenarios. One wrong move and it was game over.

It was an extremely tough game—ARC wasn’t designed to be beaten easily. In fact, its core concept was intentionally unrealistic: breaking out of a prison that had no known escape route. Even top-tier gamers would usually take several hours—sometimes even days—to crack the code and win.

But Rin had been given just one hour.

The man in the blue suit hadn’t done this out of cruelty. He wanted to push Rin, to see how far his skills could really go.

At first, Rin struggled. He failed a few attempts, hitting traps or making a wrong turn that led to a swift game over. Then, without warning, he leaned back in the chair, pressed a finger to his forehead, and closed his eyes.

The man furrowed his brow.

"Did... did he give up?" he asked Chip, who stood nearby.

Chip shook his head confidently.

"He’s thinking. Strategizing. Give him a minute."

The man glanced at Chip, doubtful. Rin had been sitting motionless for nearly twenty minutes, eyes closed, unmoving. The room grew tense. Staff watching from the VIP feed whispered that maybe the challenge had been too much.

But then, without a word, Rin’s eyes snapped open.

His hands returned to the console with renewed precision and focus. This time, there was no hesitation—no errors. Every move was calculated. Every step, perfect.

Fifteen minutes later, the impossible game was cleared.

"CONGRATULATIONS – ESCAPE SUCCESSFUL" flashed across the screen.

Rin stood up and casually walked over to the man, his face neutral as ever.

"I’ve done it. My games?" He requested.

The man stood frozen for a second, mouth slightly agape. Then his surprise melted into wide-eyed joy.

"You... you’re incredible! You’re the perfect candidate!" he exclaimed.

Rin blinked.

"Candidate for what?"

The man chuckled and regained his composure.

"How about this: ten limited-edition games, exclusive consoles, and first access to every major title before it hits the market."

Rin narrowed his eyes, clearly skeptical. The offer was amazing—but how could he be sure this man wasn’t just bluffing?

As if reading his thoughts, the man clapped twice. Moments later, two staff members entered, each holding rare, unreleased game bundles.

Rin’s face finally lit up with interest. He smiled slightly and handed the games to Chip.

"Pick whatever you want me to play."

The man grinned.

"Oh, you’re not just playing anymore. You’re competing now."

He led them to another room, even more lavish than the last. If the VIP lounge had silver terminals, this new room was gold-plated and pulsating with high-tech energy.

This was the Super VIP Arena.

Inside were rows of golden booths, each with its own private game space. A crowd had gathered around one in particular, watching an intense match projected onto a large screen.

Two avatars were locked in a fierce battle. On the right was a hero with flaming red hair—the No. 3 ranked character, known for his explosive offense. On the left, a quiet figure in a blue robe with a massive box strapped to his back.

"ROUND ONE – START!" the announcer’s voice boomed.

The red-haired character unleashed a barrage of fireballs. The blue-robed figure raised a hand. With a mechanical click, the box opened—two gleaming swords flew into his grasp. He slashed through the flames effortlessly and charged forward.

The battle raged on. Despite the fire hero’s aggression, it was clear who had the upper hand. The swordsman outplayed his opponent with precision, grace, and unstoppable momentum.

Round Two. Another clean win for the swordsman.

Round Three. The fire hero didn’t even land a single decisive hit.

The final scoreboard appeared on the screen:

> Demon: 120 Points

Peace Striker: 600 Points

A collective groan came from the crowd as those who had bet on the fire hero realized their loss. The golden booth lifted slowly, revealing the two players behind the avatars.

One was a rough-looking man with scars crisscrossing his face. The other, surprisingly, was a young man with neatly combed black hair—well-known in both the entertainment and gaming world:

Jon Stewart.

The crowd erupted in applause as they gathered around him. Jon, famous for two things—his unbeatable comedic timing and being one of the best gamers alive—grinned and waved.

"You guys keep betting against me," he joked, "and you keep losing. I should start a comedy show about that."

Just as Jon was still basking in the applause, a voice rang out from the crowd.

"You’re not the best gamer, Jon."

The crowd quieted instantly. Jon turned with a raised brow and saw a familiar face—Zumba, his long-time gaming rival. Jon had beaten him just a few days ago in front of a huge crowd, and it clearly still stung. Not wanting to admit defeat, Zumba had sent player after player to challenge Jon, hoping someone could reclaim his lost honor.

Even the Demon character—whom Jon had just dominated—was one of Zumba’s picks.

With a sigh of mock boredom, Jon asked, "What now, Zumba?" His tone was casual, almost teasing.

Zumba walked forward confidently and said, "I challenge you to a game battle."

Jon smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Sure. I’ve been meaning to beat you again anyway."

But then, Zumba stepped aside, revealing a young boy with calm eyes and black hair. He couldn’t have been older than fourteen.

"I won’t be playing," Zumba said, his voice laced with smug satisfaction. "He will."

Jon blinked, then looked at the boy, unimpressed. "Is this a joke? You’re sending a kid?"

Zumba’s grin only widened. "Don’t underestimate him. He’ll wipe the floor with you."

Jon laughed and shook his head. "You really think I’ll lose to some middle-school prodigy? Nice bluff."

Then Zumba raised the stakes. "One hundred thousand yen on the Game Master."

The audience stirred at the number. Gamblers who had lost money earlier saw this as a golden opportunity to recover their losses. They rushed to place their bets—almost all of them siding with Jon.

The odds were brutal: 10:1.3, in Rin’s favor. Only Zumba and Chip placed their bets on the boy named Rin.

Chip gave him a thumbs up. "Show them what you’ve got, buddy."

Rin nodded, quietly walking into the game booth. Despite his calm demeanor, a flicker of nervous energy danced in his eyes.

He was prompted to enter his gaming name.

After a short pause, he typed in: Game Master—a name Zumba had introduced him with.

The big screen outside the booth lit up, and both names appeared in bold letters:

> Game Master vs Peace Striker

Some people in the crowd snorted.

"Game Master? Cocky little brat."

Round One began.

On the right side of the screen was Jon’s character: Sword Blitz, a warrior clad in blue robes with a massive box strapped to his back.

On the left was Rin’s choice: Light Runner, a white-suited speedster with golden linings.

Jon’s eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Bad move, kid. No one knows how to counter Light Runner better than I do."

The game started.

Jon immediately launched a barrage of slashing blades. Rin maneuvered skillfully—dodging, twisting, evading every incoming strike with precise timing.

It looked impressive—until Rin noticed his character’s HP bar dropping rapidly.

"What...?"

Zooming in, he saw it—dozens of spectral blades were floating inside Light Runner’s body, phased in through a stealth passive ability.

Before he could react, his character dropped. Round One: Defeat.

The second round began.

This time, Rin managed to land a few solid hits. His reflexes were sharp, and his timing near-perfect, but Jon’s experience showed. One feint, one trap, and Rin was down again.

Round Two: Defeat.

The third round was a tense back-and-forth, with Rin lasting significantly longer. His evasions were better. His attacks smarter.

But in the end, the result was the same.

"You lose. Winner: Peace Striker."

The crowd erupted in cheers. Those who had bet on Jon were thrilled.

In the VIP section, the suited man and Chip looked on with concern. Chip frowned.

Jon stepped out of the booth with a smug grin, glancing at Zumba.

"Told you."

Then, something unexpected happened.

The second booth opened—and instead of stepping out defeated, Rin emerged with a smile on his face.

There was no frustration. No regret.

Just calm confidence.

He looked at Jon and said, "You’re good. Mind a rematch?"

Jon waved dismissively. "Please. You’re not even a challenge."

But Rin’s next words made Jon pause.

"I’m certain of one thing... if we go again, you’ll lose."

The audience went silent.

What was this kid saying?

He had just been crushed—and yet he was speaking like the outcome was already set in stone.

Jon raised an eyebrow, but then smirked. "You’ve got guts, kid. Fine. I’ll humor you. But don’t lose too quickly this time."

He turned and re-entered his booth.

Rin faced the audience, his voice clear and firm.

"If anyone here wants to make a lot of money, now’s your chance. Bet everything you own—on me."

Gasps echoed. Some laughed. Some hesitated.

Zumba, however, wore a knowing smile.

Rin stepped into the booth once more, stretching his hands and cracking his knuckles.

"Time to game for real."

To be continued...