It appeared that the Silver Priest hadn’t noticed the shocked expression on Zi-Cheng's face.
“Come on now, it’s after hours. Let’s skip the formalities,” Victor said with a casual wave of his hand. “And honestly, my friend’s not wrong about people taking the ritual for granted. When you’re using it to churn out crystals left and right, it’s no surprise things will run dry.”
“You’re saying… the crystal production is hitting its limit?” Reese asked, disbelief clear in her voice.
Considering how arcane crystals were the backbone of the city’s prosperity, Victor’s words weren’t just concerning — they were as good as declaring the end of Hazelton’s golden era.
“The inflation we’re seeing is just the start of it,” Morris cut in, pushing up his glasses with a sharp gesture. “The Dreslam Merchant Guild has been expanding aggressively, buying out competition, monopolizing the market, throwing money around like it grows on trees. With the crystal production at its limit, they’re going to do whatever it takes to keep business growing, no matter the cost.”
“……”
As a game designer, the scenario Morris described was all too familiar to Zi-Cheng. Back in his world, a gaming giant called Geo One swallowed smaller, promising studios one after another. At first, the acquisitions seemed harmless, employees got their payouts, and Geo One appeared to offer new opportunities. But once Geo One stood uncontested, they began pushing out half-baked sequels with outrageous price tags and filled their games with microtransactions. Worse, they branded their practices as an “evolution of the gaming industry” and urged players to “adapt” to their exploitation as the new norm with a patronizing tone.
“From the perspective of those being bought out, having Roger Dreslam throw money around might feel like a blessing,” Zi-Cheng said, his voice steady but reflective. “But when the competition is wiped out and a monopoly takes hold, things start to spiral and the market gets twisted until it’s beyond saving, hurting both the people buying and anyone trying to get in.”
“Yes! Finally, someone who actually gets it!” Morris practically lunged forward, leaning against the window with so much enthusiasm his glasses slid down his nose. “And to think, back at the Sanctuary, I thought you were just some clueless rich kid! I can’t believe how wrong I was!”
Zi-Cheng froze. Was this really the same stuck-up snob from the Sanctuary who nearly threw him out?
“Isn’t this great? Morris has always loved this kind of over-complicated talk since he was a kid. And now he found someone who shares his wavelength, how delightful!”
(Wait…. What?)
Zi-Cheng snapped his head towards Elena. Her voice might have been sweet as honey, but those puffed cheeks clearly said otherwise. Yet, before he could figure out what was going on, Morris, oblivious to everything, pressed on. “Ventus, right? Look, I’m sorry about the other day, but I’ve got so much I want to ask you—”
Meanwhile, Elena, looking like she’d just lost a sibling rivalry, turned on her heel, muttering something under her breathe as she stomped toward the kitchen. Zi-Cheng, utterly overwhelmed, glanced at Reese for help, only to see her calmly sipping her drink as if none of this concerned her.
Just as things feel like it was spiraling out of control, Victor, the Silver Priest, casually patted Morris on the shoulder, his voice light and teasing. “This kid’s got a sharp head on his shoulders, but when it comes to hosting guests….”
(Guests?)
The thought of having guests had never crossed Zi-Cheng’s mind.
Back in his world, he had lived in a cramped apartment like most city dwellers. The idea of “home” didn’t even include a proper dining table, let alone space to entertain anyone. So when Victor teased him for leaving his guests standing outside, Zi-Cheng could only force an awkward smile as he hurried to the door, feeling strangely out of place.
“Elena came back to the dorm and told us we’ve got a new neighbor,” Victor said cheerfully as he stepped into the workshop. As he brushed past Zi-Cheng with a smiling face, his gaze lingered just long enough to send a strange chill down Zi-Cheng’s spine. For a fleeting second, it felt those warm, easygoing eyes had peered straight into his soul.
But just as quickly, the moment passed. Victor continued as if nothing had happened, shrugging a massive bag off his shoulder with ease. “So, we figured it’d be rude not to bring a little something to welcome our new friend to the neighborhood.”
Grinning, he reached into the bag and pulled out a massive wooden barrel. Without missing a beat, he pulled out a small hammer and struck the side of the barrel with a practiced motion, driving a spigot into place. As the tap settled, a rich, fruity aroma burst forth, flooding the workshop and wrapping the room in its inviting warmth.
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“Let’s get the celebration underway, shall we?”
As the wooden kegs were tapped, Elena returned from the kitchen carrying steaming meat pies and golden-brown pastries. Even the egg peaches Zi-Cheng had painstakingly gathered made an appearance, transformed into a delicate dessert centerpiece. The dining table, once bare and dusty, was now a vibrant feast of rich aromas and vivid colors, almost too perfect to be real.
Zi-Cheng swallowed hard. For someone who had been surviving on scraps since arriving in this world, the sight before him felt surreal. Yet, beyond the promise of a full stomach, there was something deeper. A memory, or perhaps a feeling, stirring faintly in his chest.
“To our new friend!”
Victor raised his keg as everyone joined in – everyone, except Zi-Cheng.
It was the day his ragtag team of indie game developers found a space they could call their own. The studio wasn’t much, barely large enough to fit four desks, but it was home. That first night, they cleared the desks and placed their takeout boxes on the table like a grand feast, laughing as if they were ready to take on the whole world.
Those were the days. Tough as they were, even when all they could afford were discounted takeouts, the laughter they shared was all that mattered.
Zi-Cheng once believed those moments would last forever.
But as time went on, deadlines loomed, quality work took priority, and the weight of responsibilities bore down on him. Day by day, Zi-Cheng found himself retreating behind his computer, tackling pressing matters like a lone soldier on a battlefield. The laughter grew quieter, the team more distant, until he opened his mouth, but no words beyond the work they were doing came out.
He remembered the warmth of the last takeout he had alone at the studio. The empty chairs, the silence pressing against him as he finished his last meal before removing the studio’s door sign outside.
It was too late for any words.
(How did things go so wrong? Was it truly my fault that it all fell apart?)
Zi-Cheng raised his keg before his new friends, a single tear traced a path down his cheek.
“Thank you, everyone.”
He took a mouthful of wine from the keg, its rich warmth sliding down his throat, dulling the edges of thoughts he wasn’t ready to confront. For now, he let the laughter around him fill the silence within, hoping his gratitude would earn him a place among his new allies.
Even so, that single tear didn’t go unnoticed.
“Ven’s such a big softie.” Elena leaned forward with a playful smile, gently wiping the tear from Zi-Cheng’s cheek.
“Wh...what did you just call me?” he stammered.
“Ven. Is it okay if I call you that?” she asked, tilting her head innocently.
“Y...yeah, I guess so…”
“Well then, to Ven!” Reese raised her keg with a sly grin, the wine inside sloshing near the rim.
“And to everyone who’s had to put up with Ven!” Elena added with a mischievous laugh, raising her cup high.
Though her teasing smile was warm, Zi-Cheng knew her words wasn’t just a joke, it was her way of saying “I noticed, but I don’t mind what you did.”
For a moment, he could only stare at the cheerful girl before him. Despite his cold attitude and obvious distance, she had spent the entire day cleaning the dusty workshop, preparing this feast, and celebrating with him like an old friend.
(Get a grip, idiot. Why’s she being so nice? It’s not like I haven’t fallen for this before... Chris was “nice” too, remember?)
But as Elena laughed, her cheeks flushed from the wine, that thought faltered. Her smile was so open, so genuine it reminded him of the time they spent at the Sanctuary, with her sitting patiently and encouraging him after he realized he wasn’t the hero of this story.
Then something cracked inside him. The walls he had built, the resolve to keep everything strictly transactional in this world – it all wavered.
“Hey Ven, you’ve got to try this!”
Elena plopped a sausage with an unusual blue sheen onto Zi-Cheng’s plate, and before he could question what it was, Elena had already sliced off a piece and shoved it into his mouth. “This Bihorn Rabbit sausage is marinated with Yobok wild berry juice. It’s one of my favorite!”
(Wait… what’s a Bihorn Rabbit?)
Zi-Cheng wanted to ask, but the sweet and tangy taste from the Yobok berry, or whatever that is, was so good that he didn’t couldn’t resist but to take another bite.
“That’s just Markblight’s takeout,” Reese scoffed, smirking as she placed a golden-brown skewer in front of him. “Now this Aarow Eel? Freshly grilled to perfection. That’s the real deal.”
The skewer’s charred surface glistened under the firelight, the sweet glaze catching the faintest glow. The smoky aroma wrapped around him, making it impossible to resist. One bite, and his eyes widened — the eel’s tender flesh melted on his tongue, its subtle sweetness perfectly balanced by a hint of smokiness.
Bite after bite, drink after drink, Zi-Cheng found himself exploring flavors he’d never even dreamed of. As the night went on, the clinking of kegs filled the workshop, blending cheerful banter around the table. Victor’s wine, smooth and rich, paired effortlessly with roasted meats, while Elena’s flaky pastries melted in his mouth alongside the delicate sweetness of the egg peach dessert centerpiece.
This meal didn’t just fill his stomach, it chipped away at the walls Zi-Cheng had built after Chris Coleman’s betrayal. A quiet warmth flickered in his chest, like the first park of an ember long forgotten.
image [https://i.imgur.com/jQsvVHc.jpeg]