Even though Drake had a good impression of the man sitting across his desk, his offer was preposterous. “Come on, Manny. You know as well as I do that these neuralizing chairs are one of the main streams of income for the Union. How do you think I afforded this mansion in the crafting district? I won't sell you the chicken when it’s laying perfectly good eggs.”

“I can't blame you for that,” Manny laughed. “I had to ask anyway. But can you consider adding these two people to the VIP roster? You still have one empty pole. This flag we’re offering will make the Union soar.”

“Assuming management agrees, I can tell you in advance that a flag will only get one player at most, and we're quite full at the moment. Cerberus isn't the first guild to offer flags, too.”

“But not this flag. Surely.”

“Cerberus is lucky that you're such a likable guy. I'll see what the others think.”

“Haha. Good. Thank you, Drake. We look forward to hearing from you.”

“Take care of yourself, Manny.”

The biomonk stood up, and just as he was about to walk away, he jerked and assumed a fighting stance.

Drake jolted upright, alarmed by the sudden move. Seeing the biomonk looking everywhere in a full state of alert, he couldn’t help but worry about what the guild elder from Cerberus had seen. “Is everything OK?” Drake asked curiously.

Manny was pale and sweating. He stood silent for a moment and finally relaxed. “I-I’m sorry. It must have been my imagination. Take care, Drake.”

Drake watched as Manny closed the door. What was up with him? He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

Drake looked out his office window. Past the empty pole and the two flapping flags portraying the rock lizards and the rats, he could see the two never-ending lines of players. The one with craftsmen and artisans wanting to join the Union disappeared into the corner of Blacksmith Street and 2nd Avenue. Last he checked, it took two hours of waiting until someone from management could see them. The other line of players wanting to use the neuralizing chairs veered in another direction, disappearing into Chemist Street.

Drake had bittersweet feelings about the Union’s success. On the one hand, it was serving its purpose. It had become a strong shield and a valuable support system for Roth. On the other hand, it kept growing faster than he could manage it. Despite the round of NPC hiring to assist with application processing, it was still insufficient to meet the demand. He was tired of reading complaints about the waiting time and turning down guilds volunteering to step in and help.

He messaged the seargent. “Hey, Sarg. How is it going in Greensburg? We’re dying here.” The quicker they opened a branch in Greensburg, the sooner this overwhelming pressure would be lifted from him.

“Hi, Captain. Just purchased a manor. We should be up and running in a while. I’ll PM you once it’s done.”

Drake sank into his chair. That was good news.

Knock, knock.

Drake looked up. Manny should have been his last appointment for the day. He wasn’t expecting anyone else. It was probably one of those hateful guild pricks who thought they could waltz in unannounced. “Come in.”

The man walking through the door sent every alarm bell in Drake’s senses haywire. Drake was already up, muscles tense, cybernetic arm in front of him. His guest was tall and slender, and he recognized him from Roth's videos. How he walked into his office made Drake think of a fox entering a hen house.

“You must be Drake. Captain Drake,” the man said, bowing ever so slightly. Something about how he said it told Drake he respected him for what he had been, a mob captain. It differed from the dignifying respect he got from the 14th.

“And you are Mr. Zin, I believe.”

“You are as knowledgeable as the rumors make you out to be. Mind if I sit?”

Drake managed a curt nod and gestured invitingly toward the chair before him. He observed Zin in silence. He’d met few men like this who were more weapons than people. Drake waited for Zin to state his business, partly because he didn’t want to go first, the other because he was stunned and speechless. He had never expected the number one player in the ranks to drop in like this.

“So… Roth Taylor. Such an interesting character.”

Drake’s anger overrode his apprehension and fear. “An incredible man,” Drake countered. “The people who trapped him in that pod are monsters.”

“You would know. I’ve heard you're quite monstrous yourself. That’s what your ex-wife told me anyway.”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“You…”

“She’s pretty.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s a compliment. You are a man of good taste.”

Drake felt his mouth twist into a smile. He was furious. This assassin dared to use his past against him and even claimed to have met his ex-wife. The gall… It had been a while since he’d felt this angry. Years of rageaholic meetings and days staring at bars struggled to contain the inferno burning in Drake’s heart. Outwardly, however, he maintained a smile. It wasn’t enough to mask his anger, though.

“Oof. The rumors don’t do you justice. You're a scary man.”

“You have no idea. Enough with the charade and empty threats. Why are you here?”

“I want to become a Union VIP member.”

“E-excuse me?” Drake couldn’t help but ask, laughing.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Zin offered, unphased.

What could he have to be so sure I’d accept his request? There was only one thing that came to Drake’s mind. “Can you get Roth out of his booby-trapped pod?”

“I cannot. Whoever hacked it knew what they were doing. But I’m willing to leave the ranks. One less place for him to climb over.”

Drake bit his lip. So it was true. Roth could leave if he reached the top 10. “That is a good offer, but not enough to accept. What is one more or one less spot in the rankings?”

Zin snorted. “You have no idea of how difficult it is to reach the top 10. Trust me. There’s a massive gap between number 11 and number 10. I’m making you a generous offer.”

“I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that if you could steal, spy, or kill your way into a VIP seat in this Union, you would have done it already,” Drake said, winking. “It’s not good enough.”

“What if I threatened to kill your ex-wife? And your son?”

Drake laughed in Zin’s face. “Do you think I cut my arm off just for a matter of principle? I was honorably discharged from my family. They are under a level of protection not even you would dare to mess with.”

“True.” Zin accepted easily. “What if I killed someone for you? Loki, perhaps?”

“What if you helped Roth reach the top 10?” Drake countered.

“Hmmm… Not worth the effort.”

“Why don’t you come out with the offer you already know I’ll accept? I have a lot of work to do, and I’m sure you’re a busy man, Mr. Zin. I’m tired of this pointless dance.”

Zin smiled as he grabbed a small cylinder and placed it on the table.

“What is this?” Drake asked, curious, not daring to reach for it without permission from Zin.

“A priceless treasure.”

“Then why offer it if it’s priceless?”

“It’s the reward for a legendary quest I’ve completed. I’ve already used one charge, but it still has two.”

“May I?”

“Be my guest.”

Drake touched the object and gulped. “Is this for real?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll talk to Roth.”

Zin stood up and walked away.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Drake asked, waving the cylinder.

“He’ll say yes. It’s as you said. We’re both busy men. Let me know when it’s done.”

Zin faded into a wisp of smoke, showing that he could easily teleport himself in here—a show of strength. Drake sank into his chair and let out a heavy sigh. He messaged Roth, asking him to come to the Union at his earliest convenience. He had to see this legendary item.

*

Mel checked the clock and her messages again. Her annoyance was starting to turn into worry. It wasn't like Roth to be late for a conversation like this, so she messaged him for a second time.

“Hi, Roth. Weren't we supposed to talk at 10? Is everything okay?”

No response. Hopefully, he hadn’t gotten himself into trouble again. “Caw, screech!” Goldie complained from her shoulder. She wasn't sure if his clenching with his talons onto her shoulders was an attempt to poke her into calm or a hawk’s take on a shoulder massage. “Ouch! I know, Goldie. It's fine. Let's see if he calls.”

OgresPax is calling you.

Smiling, she took the call. “Hey! How… My goodness! What happened to you?”

On the other side of the call was Roth, his hair disheveled and his face covered in dirt. His nose had elongated into a snout, and his face was covered in fur. His fingers had stretched into long claws.

“Sorry, Mel. I ran into a bit of a situation here.”

“And here I thought you were sporting that look to impress other girls.”

“Goodness, no. I'm sorry. I need to be in [Mole Form] right now. I've been kind of buried alive.”

Mel laughed. Things were never boring with Roth. “Well, I wish you all the best in your tunnel digging.”

“Thanks. How did Kraken react?”

“I think he was surprised. What was he going to say?”

“It really means a lot that you talked to him about us.”

Mel blushed, her heart racing. She still couldn't believe she was dating someone she'd met in the game.

“So when will we see each other again?” Mel asked, hopefully. After the new patch, her guild had her and Goldie run around like crazy, flying from errand to errand, buying as much real estate as they could get their hands on. They had finally finished relocating to their headquarters in the capital, and she would have a day off soon.

“Well, after finishing up here, I will head out to the swamp. Why don't I meet you there?”

Mel pursed her lips. “That isn't very romantic. I don't like the swamps. They’re stinky.”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Roth said, scratching his head. “I'm terrible at this dating thing, uh?”

Mel giggled, seeing how cute he looked when he was flustered.

“Maybe we can meet in Hilsford. Drake texted me earlier, saying I needed to go there. Would that work?” Roth asked.

“Okay, that sounds good.”

“By the way, what did ColdHand say?” he asked.

“Didn't you talk to BlueFire?”

“Yes, but I always fear he's filtering the information. I think ColdHand tells you as it is.”

Mel smiled sadly. “Well, he said the Ogres’ tech team and the Nexus employees working on your situation are doing everything they can. They've tried several things, and ColdHand gave them some ideas but I think that reaching the top ten is your best bet.”

“I haven't climbed any spots since yesterday,” Roth said, disappointed.

“Don't be ridiculous, Roth! In one week, you climbed 56 places. Do you know how hard it is to pull that off? Besides, if you follow our plan, you can make it.”

“You think so?”

“Of course.”

“Alright. Hopefully, I can take you out to dinner in the real world soon,” Roth offered.

“Can't wait.”

“Okay, I'm going to go back to digging now. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, handsome.”

Mel felt a rush of blood to her head. She felt like a coffee addict who just had her fix. If she went too long without talking to Roth, she developed withdrawal symptoms.

She still couldn't understand how fast everything had happened. She was dating an ex-con she met in an online game. But she just couldn't help it. She didn't care about Roth’s past. All she cared about was him.

“Let's go, Goldie! It’s time to break into the 88th floor. We have to work hard, too!”