SSS-Class Profession: The Path to Mastery-Chapter 207: Drop Point

The cabin lights strobed red as the alarms continued their shrill warning, a mechanical shriek overlaying the groaning hull. The jet shook again, harder this time, pitching downward with growing urgency.

My breath had already steadied. My vision was razor sharp. My limbs light. Every fiber of my body moved in concert, no hesitation, no delay. My Full Profession Sync was active, and I was no longer just reacting.

I was executing.

From the moment I turned from the cockpit, the layout of the jet unfolded in my mind like a digital schematic. Observation, Thermal Perception, and Blueprint and Schematic Reading lit up in perfect tandem. I could see the stress fractures forming under the inner paneling. I could smell the faint chemical heat of the engine oil boiling through the fuselage. My brain was calculating an internal temperature graph in real time. The failure rate was exponential.

My skills were calculating horrible conditions for the plane at what was awaiting us—pressure loss escalating, engine burn variance reaching peak, fire threshold exceeding safe limit. Cabin integrity degrading by 14% per thirty seconds. At this rate? Four minutes. Maximum.

We had four minutes.

I moved.

First stop: the side storage compartment near the galley. Hidden behind the service drawers was the emergency kit—standard in luxury jets but rarely used. Inside: flare gun, beacon, one high-capacity life raft, and five high-altitude parachutes folded tight in matte-gray compression packs.

Exactly what we needed.

I slung all five parachutes across my shoulder in a single sweep and gripped the raft under one arm, its polymer shell hot to the touch from the rising cabin heat. I bolted toward the rear, feet finding perfect traction even as the floor shifted beneath me.

"Evelyn!" I called as I ran into her room against the inclined floor.

She looked up from where she had been crouched beside a seat, her blindfold was barely intact and her hand pressed to Sienna’s back as she tried to calm her.

"We’re jumping," I said. "Can you get her ready?"

She nodded. Her hands were shaking, but she stood quickly, pulling Sienna up by the arm.

I tossed her a parachute. "Hook her in."

Evelyn caught the pack clumsily but with determination, steadying herself against the wall with her free hand. She slid the straps over her shoulder, her movements precise despite the blindfold still half-draped across her face. Even in the chaos, she exuded control—tight and contained, like a pressure valve just holding steady.

"Make sure it’s tight. You’re going to jump together."

"What about you—"

"Later. Just do it."

My body moved before I finished the words. Camille and Alexis were on the floor nearby, bags and broken trays scattered around them. Camille had a cut over her eyebrow, the blood trickling down the side of her face in slow, dark streaks. She swiped at it once with the back of her hand, winced, and gave me a weak grin. "Is it bad? Because it feels cinematic." Her voice was strained, but she was trying to joke through it. The sharp edge of pain in her eyes betrayed her, though, and I could see how hard she was clenching her fists to stay steady., blood dripping down the side of her face. Alexis was holding onto the wall with one arm, trying to force the medical cabinet open with the other.

"You two, on your feet," I said. "Now."

Camille blinked at me. "Are we actually jumping out of this damn thing?"

"Yes."

"Reynard, we’re thousands of feet up."

"And falling fast."

I tossed a chute to Camille, then handed another to Alexis, pressing it against her chest until she took it.

"Get your straps on, both of you. Follow my lead."

Camille cursed under her breath, but obeyed. Alexis didn’t argue. Not now. Not after the look on my face.

"Sienna, Evelyn—status?"

"We’re ready!" Sienna shouted from further down the corridor, her voice high and emotional.

I nodded. I moved to the rear of the jet, my synced senses flaring. Wind pressure readings. Door lock configurations. Structural tension at the emergency exit.

I yanked the manual override lever.

The door hissed, hydraulic bolts releasing in sequence. Pressure escaped in a controlled burst. The night sky roared outside, black and endless. The wind howled like a creature awakened.

One by one, I guided them forward.

Sienna and Evelyn were first.

Evelyn was shaking, but her grip on Sienna was like steel. I knelt down, locking their parachute line through a dual harness. Sienna’s face was pale, her lips trembling, eyes locked on the swirling abyss outside—but she reached out, fingertips brushing mine.

"You can do this," I said, grounding her with my voice.

She nodded, shakily but with purpose. "Same to you."

I helped them to the edge. The wind whipped through the cabin, lifting Evelyn’s hair in a soft arc. Despite the blindfold, she tilted her head just slightly toward me.

"Three. Two. One. Go."

They jumped.

Camille was next.

She stood at the threshold, wild hair flying in every direction, fists clenched tightly at her sides. She looked at the storm and then back at me.

"So much for a nice vacation, huh?"

"Yup."

She exhaled through her nose, hard. "...If we make it back, I’ll try to bug you less about things like this."

I smirked and gave her a shove. She vanished into the night.

Alexis was last.

She didn’t speak.

Didn’t hesitate.

She just stepped up, hooked herself in with military precision, turned once to look at me—eyes sharp, afraid, and unwavering.

"You better come after us," she said.

"I always do."

She jumped.

Now it was just me.

I pulled the last harness over my shoulders. Hooked the emergency raft to my side. Checked the life support gauge—oxygen holding, chute integrity green. Then I ran the calculation.

Descent rate. Wind shear. Ocean drift. Jet stability.

We were below 20,000 feet now. Falling rapidly. Air pressure was just barely within safe parameters for a controlled jump. The cabin’s temperature spike was accelerating.

I looked once more at the cockpit as I passed.

If I failed now, they wouldn’t just die—they’d die because they followed me. Because I got lenient and didn’t fully check this plane too. The weight of that was heavier than the pack on my shoulders. I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t.

The fire had reached the instrument panel. Screens flickering like dying stars. The jet wouldn’t last much longer.

The skills pulsed through me.

Every job. Every thought. Every sense.

With a combination of Instinct, Detective, and On-Sight Adaptability, my mind assembled a full drop point calculation in seconds. Wind speeds. Splash radius. Projected drift. Even potential debris fields.

And with that... I jumped.

The wind tore at me instantly, a wall of cold that punched the air from my lungs. But my limbs didn’t shake. My body tracked everything—wind resistance, descent angle, rate of acceleration. My eyes locked onto four distinct heat signatures below, falling in a scattered arc across the black ocean. They glowed orange through the endless cold, blue ocean below us thanks to Thermal Perception.

I adjusted. Tilted. Drifted.

I found Alexis first. Her descent was calm but rigid—her limbs tight, her profile streamlined. I flew parallel, confirming chute integrity, then moved on.

Next was Camille. Her form was more chaotic, arms fighting the wind. She hadn’t stabilized yet. I barked a direction using Command Presence, sharp and clear. Her posture shifted. She obeyed without hesitation.

Sienna and Evelyn were farther out. They were dropping fast. Evelyn’s harness had slipped—not dangerously, but just enough that the line threatened to twist under too much torque.

I streamlined. Cut through air like a knife.

"I’ve got you!" I shouted.

Sienna’s face turned toward the sound, panic widening her eyes. She reached for me and I grabbed her arm, locking her to me with one hand. With the other, I reached for Evelyn’s tether, adjusted it mid-descent, tightening the cross-strap and reinforcing the linkage. Evelyn didn’t scream. She only clenched her jaw and nodded.

Then, in the distance, the ocean rose to meet us.

I activated the raft.

It deployed instantly, inflated mid-air with a shock-pop of compressed gas. It hit the water just seconds before we did, bouncing once with the force of impact.

One. Two. Three. Four splashes.

I was last.

The water swallowed us, freezing and furious.

I surfaced, gasping.

The current tugged hard, but my limbs obeyed. One by one, I pulled the girls in.

Camille was first, shivering, teeth clenched, blood still trailing from her temple.

Sienna was sobbing, clinging to me like a lifeline.

Evelyn remained silent, jaw locked, arms folded as she floated like a ghost before I grabbed her.

Alexis had her eyes sharp even in the dark, her hands finding mine like a tether.

We climbed in, soaked and shaking.

The raft rocked in the waves, creaking faintly as it bounced on the uneven black swells. Salt clung to our faces, bitter on our lips. The air was cold, briny, and laced with engine smoke still drifting down from the sky above. Every now and then, a wave slapped the side of the raft, sending a fine mist over us, chilling already soaked skin. Beneath us, the raft flexed with the movement of the water—unsteady, alive, as if the ocean itself hadn’t decided whether to keep us afloat. The wind howled. The sky stretched forever above us.

But we were alive.

All of us.

I collapsed against the side of the raft, chest heaving.

My system interface flickered.

[Special Skill: Full Profession Sync - Deactivated.]

My eyes shut.

And then, everything went dark.

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