“Yes, senpai, just now, the people from Saint Judgment came and made a scene. That Mark Brooks was actually pretty tough, but then Glen Christie joined in.” The girl spoke excitedly, her eyes sparkling with stars—so cool, so cool.

Miriam tapped her fingers on the table—thump, thump, thump. Now it seemed there was no way out. With the strong addition of Glen and Amelia, it wouldn’t be easy to target the Oddball Club anymore. She just couldn’t figure out why two people of that level would join a club full of misfits like this.

At noon, the elated president Mark Brooks decided to treat everyone—finally, the Oddball Club had enough members. Baron Grantham admired the president once again. Look, they recruited three people in total, and he was the only one dragging the team down. Baron resolved to work hard and not let the president down.

With this, the Oddball Club also met the minimum requirements for a battle team. Amelia would definitely go for the assassin class, focusing on agility and melee burst. Baron’s physique made him an excellent tank. As president, Mark Brooks was obviously the core. John Carter, a first-year, had always played the role of ranged warrior; given his physical limitations, ranged was the best choice. And then there was the genius Glen, who could undoubtedly fill any position.

When Mark Brooks announced the position assignments, no one objected. Only Glen’s smile grew wider. Someone who could chat and laugh under five times gravity was actually a ranged shooter? Heh…

Of course, every Soul Warrior had their own privacy and habits, and prying was impolite. Glen just felt that joining the Oddball Club would definitely be interesting—not just because John Carter was strange. With his abilities, he could join any club he wanted, but joining a strong club for four years would be far too lacking in challenge.

In the afternoon, classmate Matthew Brooks excitedly went to the student council to handle the paperwork. For him, life finally had some meaning. At the same time, all the branches had to return for meetings, and course selection was about to begin.

Course selection was undoubtedly very important. Each branch had only a small number of required courses; most were electives. Although the four main branches each had their own characteristics, for the first three years, there were still many classes taken together. In his first year, John Carter chose a lot of courses, but his final exam results were pretty dismal—even his specialty, archery, he failed.

There were also many options for ranged warriors: cold weapons like bows and arrows, or mechanical rune guns. In terms of power, rune firearms were definitely fiercer and more convenient, but most ranged students started with bows and arrows to improve their soul power control.

“Baron, with your build, you really need to practice shield defense well. You’re our strong bulwark!”

Senior Mark Brooks began showing off his wisdom. Baron Grantham’s physique was extremely robust—undoubtedly perfect material for a tower shield warrior. In current mainstream battle lineups, a strong defender was a must.

Baron Grantham listened intently. The purpose of the club was deep cross-grade communication, and the senior’s experience was invaluable. Seniors could also gain insights from guiding their juniors.

In the days to come, Mark Brooks would be busy. Now that the club had enough members, things like venue and budget had to be put on the agenda. As vice president, John Carter was basically an all-purpose handyman and would have to run around with Mark Brooks.

Chapter 11: Random Weapons

They thought the student council would cause trouble, but everything went surprisingly smoothly. As long as the Oddball Club found a venue, paid the required club deposit, and signed the relevant agreements, it would no longer be an unregistered group.

Money wasn’t the problem—the venue was the headache. That was now President Matthew Brooks’s worry.

After a busy day, John Carter arrived at the OP training ground. Last year had been pure torment, dying in all sorts of ways, and he never even got to face a decent opponent. That feeling was just… indescribable. But now, everything was different—the joy of victory was truly unparalleled.

Logging into OP, John Carter waited for an opponent. Yesterday’s match was pretty good, though he was a bit too nervous and rushed through it. He hoped to meet another good warrior today.

John Carter didn’t notice that his number of spectators had actually surpassed a hundred—a pretty decent level of attention in OP, especially for the cannon fodder rank. Of course, most people were just there for fun.

“Looking forward to who our expert will face today. Bro, I’m rooting for you!”

“Why are there so many people today?”

“Yesterday our king unexpectedly won a match, and now the forum is in an uproar. Someone even said yesterday’s opponent was really strong, and that our ‘keyboard king’ is actually a pro.”

“A pro? Come on, let me see—who has such sharp eyes? Are they sure they’re not blind?”

Apparently, yesterday’s battle with the future Gun King had sparked debate in the rookie ranks. Any so-called expert commentary was immediately drowned out by a barrage of criticism.

Arena: “Coliseum.”

Weapon mode: Random.

Instantly, the entire spectator room erupted. The crowd’s excitement was ignited.

“Did you see that? That’s the aura of a king! What does it mean to be a king? Daring to ignore the whole world!”

“My titanium-alloy dog eyes are blinded! Someone actually dares to go with random weapons—everyone, bow down!”