Seven cats came back to the Lobby in Week 2.
The System counted on the way in. Seven. Recounted. Seven. Then a small gray one walked out from under the concierge desk and sat down at the end of the row, and the System wrote down eight, and then crossed it out, because the gray one was looking at the System in a way that suggested it did not wish to be counted.
System NoticeWATCHLIST ENTRY: KYLE. FELINE HEADCOUNT: 7. POSSIBLY 8. THE EIGHTH DECLINES TO BE COUNTED. PHOTOGRAPHS RECEIVED: 0.
Kyle came in carrying the Bait Bucket of Questionable Cheese from last week, still unopened. The cats followed the bucket at a precise, respectful distance, the way courtiers follow a king who is holding something they want.
His opponent was Matt.
Matt was at the concierge desk, giving odds on the cats.
“Orange one’s the favorite.”
“They’re not racing.”
“Everything’s racing, Kyle.”
The System watched Kyle consider this. The System watched the cats consider it too. Then the week began, and the cats went back to their row, and Kyle went back to doing the one thing he does better than anyone in the Dungeon, which is hold eye contact with the System while not sending it a photograph.
119.8 to 163.4.
A loss. Not a disaster. Matt is in first place and has the best record in the league and has never flipped the coin once, and the System is aware that Kyle, more than anyone, finds this offensive on a personal level.
“He’s not even using the ring.”
No.
“And he’s winning.”
Yes.
“That’s not how luck works.”
The System agrees. The System has written to the Ring about it.
Kyle is 1-1. He sits in the exact middle of the standings, sixth of ten, which for the crawler who finished tenth a season ago is the highest he has stood in a very long time. The title still says Last Place, Actually, Though. The System still has the folder. The folder is still empty.
You owe me a photograph.
“I’m aware.”
It’s Week 2.
“Then it’s not late yet.”
The System checked the rulebook. The rulebook does not set a deadline.
The System is going to amend the rulebook.
On his way out, Kyle lifted the lid on the bucket of cheese, just long enough for the smell to escape, and closed it again. He is saving it. Seven cats watched the lid. The gray one did not. It stayed exactly where it was, looking up at the nearest camera.
Week 3: Vicky. She has a small piece of paper. Kyle has eight cats, possibly.
The System would like to know what the gray one wants.