Midnight logged out, recovered his bearings, and heard the console springing alive. After a second or two, a streak of circumventing light shone in his eyes. It followed the lid's movements, grew thicker, and soon, dispelled the darkness around him.

Free from the console's confines, the afternoon sunshine blinded him and his eyelids uncontrollably drooped. Simultaneously, he felt the lethargy rear its head, but he was painfully familiar with this feeling. With years of experience, he resisted the somnolent waves and snapped himself fully awake.

Then he used his hands to grab the sides of his 'coffin', struggled, and crawled out, stumbling to his feet with a sigh, "Getting out of here always makes me feel like a corpse desperately clawing through the dirt in its grave. One that sticks its palm outside, just to shirk it back, under the assault of the daylight..."

He yawned, rubbed his reddening eyes, and slowly walked to the kitchen. There, he made two cups of coffee. One was extremely strong, with copious amounts of sugar and milk, while the other was black, with two teaspoons of honey.

Ding Dong

Just when he was done placing them on the table, he heard the door's chime ringing.

He took one of the cups and sipped from it leisurely on his way. In a few steps, he was already by the door, and he opened it calmly. Then his eyelids twitched for a moment, but he still greeted the visitor standing beyond, "Welcome, doctor. You are still as punctual as always."

The woman, referred to as a doctor, wore casual clothing, accentuating her well-proportioned figure. She looked intelligent, dignified, and unperturbed by his words.

"Punctuality is a virtue in this country." Beatrice Muller replied with an indifferent expression. Then, without an invitation, she stepped inside and walked toward the kitchen. She was unmistakably familiar with this place.

Sigh

Midnight exhaled and stepped aside to let her in. He yawned again and chided the woman. His words held an undisguised reproach as he said, "Patiently waiting for an invitation before barging into someone's home is another act of integrity."

He closed the door and followed behind Beatrice from a safe distance. Inwardly, he was shrieking. When she is here, I am always demoted to the position of a visitor inside my own home! How can someone be such a pain in the ass?

"Very true," Beatrice agreed without showing any care or feeling offended. With her character, she would have said the same thing even if she could read all of his thoughts.

In just two seconds, she had reached the kitchen, walked in, and comfortably sat on a chair. Then she stretched her hand and grabbed the left-over cup. Sipping from the honey liquid, she was satisfied and finally waved, "Have a seat. I do not wish to see the accident of our last counseling being repeated today."

Heh, this is new. Should I feel grateful for being granted permission to sit in my kitchen? Even though we have known each other for over a decade, this is going overboard! How shameless!

Midnight rolled his eyes but didn't argue. He pulled his chair over, sat down, and snided at her, "The one where I fell asleep, hit my head into the leg of the table, and you had to wipe the blood clean? Indeed, that must have been a memorable experience. At least for you."

"Precisely." Beatrice nodded, and her relaxed expression slightly cracked for the first time. A wave of discomfort passed through her fair face before it disappeared.

Even though she was a doctor, she was scared of blood. That was why she had chosen to major in psychiatry instead of other more popular fields...

To erase this exact memory, she changed the topic, and said, "Let's begin. Tell me about your recent thoughts and feelings."

Usually, when she met a patient, she would initiate small talk to diffuse the nervous atmosphere around them. However, this particular guy was a special case. For him, time was of the essence. Therefore, she had to be brash and speak out directly.

Cough

Midnight cleared his throat and replied with a distorted smile, "I am feeling fine." Then, he recounted his recent involvement with Euclex but didn't go into detail. He only shared some of his observations, emotions, and his state of mind at the time. In the conclusion, he expressed his desire to finish today's session as quickly as possible and urged her to leave.

While he talked, Beatrice didn't interrupt him at all. Her expression remained tranquil as she jotted down a couple of notes. She had a unique notebook for each of her patients. And the one for Midnight was unusually red.

When he was done, her lips curved into a smile, "It seems your mental state is quite stable. However, let me ask you just in case. Have you died inside Euclex?"

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

From her point of view, Midnight was an extreme oddity. The players she had counseled recently wore heavy looks and grumbled nonstop. Yet, he seemed to fare even better than previously. The harsh reality of the game didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. This made her very pleased, yet apprehensive. His state somehow resembled the calm before a storm. A storm she didn't wish to see brewing.

"I have not." Midnight didn't lie and added, "But I have been injured. It was still bearable. Much more than spending my daytime with you." He didn't mince his words in front of his long-term psychiatrist. It was unknown when it started, but in the past years, he never hid his true feelings in front of Beatrice Muller. He didn't feel like pretending at all.

"I see." Beatrice wrote another note, sipped from the coffee, and said, "Your ability to nitpick at me has been further evolved. This isn't a bad thing. It reveals that you are not bottling up the negative thoughts and emotions. Very well done. The next session will be in two weeks. Of course, you can always call me if you feel under the weather." She seemed happy with today's outcome, absolutely unperturbed by his evident displeasure and tone. And this blatant analysis in front of him only ignited Midnight's annoyance.

Who do you think trained this nitpicking skill? Yes, I absolutely won't call you! Can't you leave me be already?!

He was a very good and obedient patient. He didn't waste time and instantly grumbled a lot. Perhaps I should faint a couple more times and scare you silly. Heh, I will work hard and turn you into a wiping blood pro. There is no need to thank me. It will be my pleasure!

In the next three minutes, he saw her finish the coffee, and then leave his room like some royalty, ending an audience.

Closing the door, he rubbed the ache in his temples. Beatrice is always like a gale. She would storm in, roughen up my hair, and then escape without as much as a sound. Such a waste of my time... He felt extremely unnerved and annoyed. Even his blood pressure had risen by a bit.

Bearing his complicated emotions, he turned to face the room with his console, took a step, and then tumbled forward.

Bang

His body hit the ground hard, the porcelain cup in his hand flew out and shattered in pieces, and the little bit of coffee left inside scattered all over the carpet. At least his injuries seemed to be light, just a couple of bruises and one or two cuts.

Prostrated on the floor and unable to move, Midnight sighed in pain, anger, regret, and a lot of exasperation.

I forgot to subdue my intense feelings! Phew, this isn't Euclex. I should have paid more attention... But this somehow makes me reminisce about the good old days. Damn it, what a fucked up timing! I let Beatrice escape just a second ago!

...

Euclex. Day 7. 13:45.

Popo finished his chat with Greg, the best smith in the village, bid him goodbye with a friendly wave of his tail, and crept in the street shadows toward the General Store.

He had already bought some items from Greg. Items he would sell to Bernard and earn a small profit. However, he wasn't doing this for the cash.

Instead, he planned to purchase materials from Bernard, bring them all the way back, and sell them to Greg for much cheaper. Most, if not all, of his profits would inevitably be lost in this process.

However, what Popo earned from these tedious and nonsensical deals was the friendliness of the natives. First, he saved Greg the time, to go to and fro the General Store. Second, he brought deals and accelerated the business for both Greg and Bernard. And third, he did it for free.

Using his initial 10 scops, for the past week, Popo utilized similar tactics to befriend a lot of the natives. He slowly but certainly got under their skin and expanded his network. As an information dealer, forming connections and getting on the good side of both players and natives was a necessity.

While happily walking, suddenly, his heart skipped a beat, and he felt tense. His back perspired in cold sweat and goosebumps formed on his skin. This made his greyish-blue fur perk up and look fluffy.

With his whiskers trembling and his ears rotating like radio antennas searching for the first contact signal from space, he didn't think twice and swiftly jumped into a branching up alley. He stifled his breath and plastered his back to a wall.

Then from this safe and covert position, he furtively glanced at the pathway he was walking before. Unsurprisingly, in less than three seconds, a silent shadow emerged.

This person looked like a child with messy black hair, a pale complexion, and scars on his face! However, his most striking feature was a pair of extremely green eyes with vertical pupils. On his waist dangled a brand new leather bag worthy of 3 nickels!

The half-ling didn't notice Popo at all, and walked briskly, without making a sound. And soon he disappeared into the crisscrossing streets of Lesotte.

Phew

Popo breathed out a sigh of relief and patted his chest. Then he suppressed his slight trembling and whispered, "Who is this player?"

Yes, from the terminal strapped to the half-ling's wrist, Popo had already judged that he wasn't a native. He was a player, a very fierce and dangerous one!

Squick...

A tiny grey mouse popped out of Popo's pocket, and shook its head sideways, expressing its own puzzlement and confusion. It too had felt the same things.

Phew

Popo exhaled again and used a finger to nudge at the mouse. Then he exclaimed, "That was so dreadful! It was like I was facing a predator, no, he felt like my natural enemy!"

Squick! Squick!

The mouse rubbed at his finger and squicked in support. It raised all four of its feet in agreement. That half-ling was threatening!

"We need to pay more attention to him. I have never felt so scared before. Yes, even when that Horned-Rabbit was chasing us previously, it could hardly compare. This half-ling doesn't seem to be simple." Popo played with the mouse to calm his tense nerves. He was very grateful that as a Covert Night Mouse, one of the Monstrosity subspecies, he was proficient in stealth. He could even be described as a specialist. Otherwise, if he stumbled upon this monstrous half-ling directly, who knew what would have happened to them?

Not waiting, for his familiar to speak further, Popo turned on his feet and hurriedly ran to the store. Now, he had one more thing on his to-do list for the day. It was to learn more regarding this player. As for whether he would attempt to befriend him, this would depend on the risks and the possible profits. As an information dealer, Popo lacked strength and he always tried his best to evade combat and danger.