As they walked into the hotel lobby, Maluck turned to Chloe. “Come up with me to my room. I need to grab my stuff and change.”

  Chloe gave him a deadpan look. “Again, you do realize how sleazy you sound right?”

  Maluck sighed. “I know. But seriously, I’m not about to work out in this.” He gestured dramatically at his current outfit, which, to be fair, wasn’t exactly gym-ready.

  She crossed her arms, still skeptical. “Alright, fine. But just so you know, my good friend Mr. Pepper Spray is locked and loaded.”

  Maluck raised an eyebrow. “You really think I’m that kind of guy?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t take chances.”

  “Come on, Chloe. You can trust me a little by now right?”

  She stared at him for a long moment. Then, with a noncommittal hum, she stepped into the elevator.

  As they rode up, Maluck glanced down the hall and noticed a small group of hotel staff standing outside a room, looking increasingly frazzled. A guest, clearly in distress, was gesturing wildly as one of the employees fiddled uselessly with the door handle.

  “Oh no, I love waiting around when I have somewhere to be,” the guest snapped. “This is great customer service.”

  “We apologize for the inconvenience, sir,” one of the staff members said, looking like he wanted to melt into the carpet. “The key card system is currently—uh—undergoing maintenance.”

  “Maintenance?” The guest looked about five seconds away from combusting. “Are you kidding me? My briefcase is in there! I have a meeting in twenty minutes!”

  Chloe and Maluck exchanged looks.

  “Well,” Maluck said, tilting his head toward the scene, “guess you’re about to get some real-world training.”

  Chloe followed his gaze, then turned back to him, unimpressed. “I just agreed to this training thing, and you’re already throwing me into an actual crime?”

  “It’s not a crime if you’re helping,” Maluck reasoned. “It’s community service—but cooler.”

  Chloe exhaled through her nose. “You do realize I could just say no, right?”

  Maluck nodded. “You could. But you won’t.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “And why is that?”

  “Because I’m paying you? And you’re in training?” Maluck said with a smile, nodding toward the frazzled staff, “look at them. They’re basically begging for a professional.”

  Chloe sighed, muttering, “I swear to god, if this gets me arrested…” Then, without waiting for more of Maluck’s nonsense, she strolled over to the group, hands in her pockets, casual as ever.

  “Heya…,” she said hesitantly.

  The VIP turned to her with an irritated scowl. “What?”

  “You want help with that door?”

  The manager, still on the phone, blinked at her. “What?”

  Chloe pulled out a hairpin from her pocket and twirled it between her fingers. “I can pop that lock in ten seconds.”

  The guest and the staff both gawked at her like she’d just offered to perform open-heart surgery with a butter knife.

  The manager hesitated. “Uh, miss, that’s not really—”

  The VIP cut him off. “You can actually get me in?”

  Chloe smirked. “Mmmhhhhm yeah…probably .”

  The manager looked ready to protest, but the guest, clearly having no patience left, threw up his hands. “I don’t care if it’s against policy! If she can open it, let her open it!”

  The manager stammered, but before he could form a coherent argument, Chloe was already crouched by the lock, working like she did this for a living.

  And honestly? Watching her in action was insane.

  Maluck had seen lockpicking in movies before, but those scenes always made it look dramatic and complicated. Chloe? She barely even tried. A couple of quick adjustments, a flick of her wrist, and—

  CLICK.

  The door swung open.

  The VIP stared at her, then at the now-unlocked door, then back at her. “Oh my.”

  The manager looked like he might actually pass out.

  Chloe stood up, dusting off her hands. “There. Fixed it. You’re welcome.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The VIP didn’t hesitate. He strode in, grabbed his briefcase, then turned back to her with an appreciative nod. “You’re a lifesaver. Here.” He pulled out his wallet and, without even counting, handed her a wad of cash before heading off to his meeting like nothing happened.

  The manager, on the other hand, was still frozen in place.

  Chloe waved a hand in front of his face. “Uh. Hello? You good?”

  The manager finally snapped out of it, eyes darting between her and the lock. “That… that should not have been that easy.”

  “Yeah,” Chloe said, pocketing the money, “you might wanna invest in some better locks.”

  The manager looked vaguely traumatized.

  Meanwhile, Maluck had been watching the whole scene with growing amusement, and now, as he checked his system notifications, he grinned.

  [System Task Completed]Help Chloe develop her skills as a master thief.

  Found a real-world scenario for Chloe’s training.

  Reward: +0.01 Perception

  He smiled. “Damn, Chloe. That was impressive.”

  Chloe grinned, holding up the cash. “And profitable.”

  Maluck shook his head in amazement. “You just got a cash bonus while still in training. That’s next-level.”

  She tucked the money into her pocket. “Yeah, yeah. Now let’s go hit the gym, hah, I can’t believe those words left my mouth.”

  Maluck laughed. This training arc was already off to a fantastic start.

  ***

  Maluck stretched his arms as he and Chloe walked into the hotel gym. It was surprisingly empty—just the way he liked it. Chloe, on the other hand, looked at the rows of machines and weights like they were some kind of torture devices.

  “So… what exactly are we doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms.

  Maluck grinned. “Simple. Training you to be the ultimate master thief.”

  She snorted. “Oh great. So what, bench presses and squats are gonna help me crack a safe?”

  He tapped his temple. “See, that’s where normal people go wrong. If you want to be the best, you train the best.”

  Maluck could easily put together a training plan for Chloe. Back in the military, he had been a beast in the gym and had actually done a lot of coaching for other soldiers. If it weren’t for his catastrophic bad luck, he probably would have made Master Sergeant. But, well… when you mix bad luck with firearms, things tend to go downhill fast. Real fast.

  His military career had been like watching a tragic comedy—one where the main character is really competent but constantly getting blindsided by fate. Misfire during a training exercise? That was him. Accidentally sitting on an officer’s hat during an inspection? Also him. Nearly taking out a drone with a rogue kettlebell swing? Look, that one wasn’t entirely his fault.

  So yeah, Master Sergeant? Not happening.

  But training Chloe? That he could do. No guns involved, no freak accidents waiting to happen—just pure skill-building. And maybe, just maybe, she’d be the first person in his life to actually benefit from his guidance without things going horribly wrong.

  She eyed him skeptically. “And what’s the ‘best’ for a lockpicker?”

  Maluck clapped his hands together. “Glad you asked. Step one—grip strength. Ever tried twisting a tension wrench in a tough lock for five straight minutes?”

  Chloe shrugged. “Not really. Locks don’t usually fight back.”

  “They will when you’re working with high-end security systems,” he said. “Now, let’s get you hanging from that pull-up bar.”

  Chloe blinked. “You want me to what?”

  “Dead hangs,” Maluck said, pointing at the bar. “Grab on and hang. No swinging, no kicking. Just your fingers keeping you there. If you can do a full minute, I’ll be impressed.”

  She hesitated but eventually walked up to the bar. With a deep breath, she jumped and grabbed on.

  For about three seconds.

  Then she dropped like a sack of potatoes.

  “…That was pathetic,” Maluck deadpanned.

  She rubbed her hands. “I wasn’t ready!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said, tossing her a pair of hand grippers. “Squeeze these. Ten reps, both hands. We’ll build up those noodle fingers.”

  Chloe grumbled but obeyed.

  SQUEEZE

  SQUEEZE

  “So what’s next? You gonna make me punch bricks like a kung fu master?”

  “Nah, but we are working on wrist and forearm strength,” Maluck said, handing her a dumbbell and motioning for her to sit. “Wrist curls. This builds control and endurance—great for long lockpicking sessions.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And by ‘long lockpicking sessions,’ you mean…?”

  “Look, you never know how complicated a job might get,” he said. “Some locks take time.”

  Chloe sighed, curling the dumbbell like she was lifting the weight of the conversation.

  They continued their workout for a while, sweat already starting to bead on Cloe’s forehead.

  “Anything else, Coach? I’m already pooped.” She wiped her brow dramatically, looking like she might keel over at any moment.

  Maluck, ever the unflappable trainer, smirked at her. “Oh, we’re just getting started.” He handed her another weight, a slightly larger one, and Maluck eyed it with suspicion.

  “These exercises are way harder than they looked when you were demonstrating them,” she muttered, trying to hold the weight at a weird angle to avoid looking too weak. The last thing she needed was for Maluck to think she was some kind of useless weakling.

  “Of course they are,” Maluck said, not even looking up from his own set of squats. “I make it look easy, but that’s the art of a good trainer, right? Getting you to do the work while I just look cool.”

  Chloe glared at him, shifting the weight in her hand. “Great, so this is just a chance for you to show off how much cooler you are than me?”

  He paused, half-smiling. “Exactly.”

  “Next.” Maluck smirked. “Core strength. If you’re sneaking through vents, crawling through tight spaces, or hanging from ledges, you’re gonna need a rock-solid core.”

  “…Why do all of these scenarios sound like they belong in a robbery?”

  He ignored that. “Planks. Now.”

  Chloe rolled her eyes but got down on the mat. She lasted ten seconds before collapsing.

  THUD

  Maluck shook his head. “Oh yeah, you’re in great shape.”

  Chloe groaned into the floor. “I am in great shape. Just not for whatever heist movie you think we’re living in.”

  “We’re working on it,” Maluck said cheerfully. “Alright, time for the practical skills. We’re doing agility drills next.”

  Chloe sat up. “Lemme guess. This is the part where I dodge lasers?”

  She made PEW PEW noises.

  “No, but we are doing ladder drills and box jumps. You need speed and coordination.”

  Chloe groaned but got to her feet. “I swear, if I don’t get a secret agent job after this, I’m billing you for my suffering.”

  “Don’t worry,” Maluck grinned. “This is all for the greater good.”

  Thirty Minutes Later…

  Chloe was out of breath after completing a set of one-minute sprints on the treadmill, training for the explosive speed she’d need in case of a quick getaway. As she leaned against the machine, trying to catch her breath, Maluck handed her his phone.

  “Here, while you’re resting, watch these videos on how to break into safes,” he said.

  At this point, Chloe’s brain was too exhausted to even question him. She just took the phone and started watching, grateful for any excuse to stop exercising.

  Maluck, on the other hand, was grinning ear to ear.

  “This was great,” he said, checking his System notifications. No stat boosts yet for training Chloe, but this was progress.

  Chloe just shot him a death glare. “If you make me do one more push-up, I will rob you in your sleep.”

  Maluck laughed. “See? Now you’re thinking like a pro.”