Chapter6: Rest, regain your strength!

Basalin counted the cash in the folder, coming in at around twenty five thousand. "Damn gramps, didn't know you were so loaded." The teen said.

"Che, your mother and father were quite wealthy. Your father owned a courier business and your mother owned a florist business. Then I'm a sanctioned hunter, and to prevent me from getting any ideas about going rouge, I get paid a lot of money." The man leaned forward from the couch. "A lot of money." He emphasized.

Basalin deadpanned at the older man. Both males were rather frugal all things said and done. Crouch had his alcohol thing, but he stopped if it was getting out of hand and only touched his own money for anything related to his hobbies.

Basalin's little alchemical lab was paid for by Crouch as an example, and not his parents money. Something possible due to the man being loaded and abstaining from drinking for several months due to the bandit scare. Paranoia ran in any Hunter's blood, and dropping everything at moments notice or barest sign of a red flag was common.

"So, is this for tuition?" Basalin asked.

"Yes and no. There's a trial fee, as in a down-payment of around twenty five grand that you have to pay if your child fails the curriculum. Something the school doesn't want to do as they get rated on pass and fail rates, but sometimes an untalented or mentally unprepared kid joins up. Gotta kick 'em out and there's no way they're gonna want to actually pay for their 'failure'." The man snorted.

"If you pass the classes and do well in certain areas, you gain scholarships and monetary rewards to be redeemed. Good at math, weapon design, and workshop? You get credits that you can redeem for a better weapon. Good at combat and aura studies? More credit and more money that goes into your future classes and schools. Eventually, if you do well, you come out with a profit." The elder explained.

"So, how do they turn a profit?" Bas asked.

"Its an elite government run school, designed to turn out the best and brightest. Massive campaign ads and political slogans for more funding toward Hunter schools is done all year round, and those interested in politics shill out millions of lien to these schools for the best facilities and teachers. All in the name of 'protecting mankind' or whatever slogan that gets voters in a tizzy." The man ranted blandly.

"Damn." The young teen said, tossing the packaged cards onto the desk. "What's the curriculum like, like, what classes do I get to take?"

"Well, lets look it over. Get the scroll." The man commanded. "Oh, and a glass of vodka and orange juice, please."

Bas got up and mumbled, "Make that two."

Returning with all three objects, they started going over the classes.

"So, math, language arts, basic sciences, and history or social studies is all required. Combat Class is a entire grade thing taken on every week, usually on a friday. Gives the kids two-ish days to recover from any injuries." Basalin whistled, brutal. Get slammed into the ground and wake back up having to go straight back to the grind.

"Optional classes, Weapon Design, Workshop, and Dust Labs, its all grouped together it one straight shot career guide. First is workshop, then weapons, then dust labs. Each class goes on for an entire year, and on the forth year you round back to workshop to make your weapon. A senior project as it were." Bas hummed in thought, liking the class set already.

"There's an optional 'honor's class set that you can take. This one might be more your style." Bas was interested to say the least.

"You enter in and take an optional math test, and if you grade high enough you skip into Advanced Weapon Works. A mix of both Workshop and Weapon Design. This allows for a free period for your years that are expected to be used to study and work on your weapon, while you take Dust Labs twice." Bas whistled.

"A lot of kids take this and drop out, which hurts their credits, causing them to have to drop out. Excelling in it though? That's specialist and Atlas level resources opening up to you. You in?" Crouch asked his grandson, already knowing the answer.

The teen gave a cocky grin, his features handsome and sharp, eyes sparkling and fangs gleaming. "Yeah. I'm in."