Davis, for the first time in several months, relaxed back. He took his glasses off and tossed them carelessly onto his apartment-office desk, hands scrubbing at his face.

Next to him, several cups of coffee from various brands rested, piling up next to his desk. It was a mess. Davis, leaning back in his office chair, stared at the cups for a long moment.

When the dungeons appeared, it wasn’t a surprise that the economy almost collapsed with it. What was a surprise was that he, a relatively unknown name in the billionaire category, was the sole reason it didn’t collapse. If everyone sold, everything would collapse, so he spent his time wasting copious amounts of his own personal funds to prevent that single-handedly. When others had heard he was buying everything, they must have presumed he was attempting to make profit and joined in, saving all the important players within the stock market.

It was the only saving grace, and he’d been on the phone with the president and the head of the Department of the Treasury, who funded his reckless spending. While he’d done his best, Davis wasn’t one for wasting money, either, so he hadn’t bought up stocks of already-failing companies, letting them fall into obscurity.

It was a very long and complicated process, and Davis was tired. Taking a deep breath, he released it in a heavy sigh. Pulling out his phone, he dialed his secretary—now working remotely for him until his building was reconstructed.

“Secretary Shawn,” Davis called, his voice several octaves deeper. He resisted the urge to yawn, eyes growing lidded.

“Yes, sir?” His secretary responded, voice just as tired as his. He would give his secretary a raise after this, he decided. As soon as he could afford it, anyway. The business was running on fumes due to his bold actions to save the global economy.

“Any news on our employees? Are they all accounted for and safe, or moved to the temporary housing I set up for them and their families?” Davis wondered.

“There are three missing or dead persons, still, as well as many who quit,” Shawn said quietly, unable to hide his yawn over the phone.

Three missing? That was… well, it was better than he’d been hoping for.

“Give me their names, status, and positions. We’ll set up a tribute for our fallen members,” Davis muttered, reaching up and running a hand through his hair.

That same hand reached out to grab his coffee—only to toss it off the desk. It landed with a clatter, the lid coming off. No liquid left the completely drained cup. He didn’t look around at his office—the room dark, the only light being the blue glow of his six large monitors hanging on the wall.

“Right, okay. There’s John Mendez, missing, law intern, Jerry Sanchez, confirmed dead, head janitor of first shift, and May Cole, presumed dead, law intern,” Shawn listed off.

Davis stopped breathing for a moment, his eyes closing as pain and something odd twisted within him, eyes burning.

“What’s the difference between missing and presumed dead? Why is—…” Davis’ voice broke, and he stopped talking, further rubbing his face.

May Cole… his May. From the very first day, she’d made quite an impression on him. He thought back, imagining her expression. Imagining all the times he’s seen her, the various transformations he watched her go through. Three years of watching her, wondering why she never looked at him.

The only time she had was when she and his secretary had commented on it—the only time he’d avoided looking at her. Avoided meeting her gaze, if only to prevent the conflict that would certainly have arisen with his secretary.

“Uh, oh! It says here that the list was created based around whether they were near a collapsed building. Many unidentified corpses were found around the Kageson skyscraper, and her vehicle was found in the parking garage. John’s residence wasn’t collapsed, and his parents mentioned that he left after the dungeons appeared—they believe he went into a dungeon after Blood’s video was uploaded.”

“Pardon?” Davis asked, “Blood?”

It wasn’t uncommon for his secretary to mention famous individuals he didn’t know of, however this was the first time his secretary said the person’s name without any additional explanation.

Shawn hesitated, sighing, “One you gave him, sir. Here, I’ll link you the highlight video and the video documentaries. You should be keeping up to date with his videos, he’s the leading expert on dungeons. It seems dungeons will be permanent fixtures, so keeping up-to-date—“

“Yes, thank you. Send the links over,” Davis interrupted, hanging up.

It was quiet for a long moment. The leading expert on dungeons…? His mind flashed back to the armored man that had saved him, the man’s helmet reflecting his dirtied and pale face.

Davis opened his eyes, staring at his screen. He stared at the email he’d been drafting. [email protected]. May Cole. Presumed dead. Taking a deep breath, he sighed it out, deleting the draft.

Yes, of course. Whether it was the destruction that killed her or whether she found the dungeons’ appearance to be the perfect opportunity to take her own life, Davis was not surprised she was gone. The tears in his eyes grew thicker as his shoulders grew tense, hands curling into fists.

Not only had she made a decent first impression on him, but her second impression was just as notable. He thought back.

He walked through the reception, passing a thin and frail woman. She smelled fresh and nice, her wet hair curling as it dried. She didn’t look at him as she spoke kindly to the receptionist. Davis hesitated when he heard she was there for an interview.

Shifting, he went behind the counter, easily slipping into a chair, “I can help you here, if you’d like. You said you were here for an interview?”

The woman glanced over, then back at the receptionist she’d been speaking to. After a moment, a redness coming to her cheeks, she shifted to stand in front of him. Her eyes were gray, like his, though hers were a darker shade.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Yes,” She said, smiling slightly, her entire face growing red as he looked at her, “I’m here for an interview to become a, um, a law intern here?”

A law intern? Davis stared up at the blushing woman, eyes scanning her. He’d bedded worse, though her gaze wasn’t sultry. Was she the innocent type?

“I see,” Davis shifted the mouse, clicking through to send the notification to the hiring manager that their two o’clock was there. When he went to put it in the system, an error appeared. He hummed, “What’s your name? What time are you supposed to interview?”

The woman looked surprised, glancing at the time on her phone, “Oh, sorry! I’m here for the interview at two-thirty. My name is May Cole.”

Half an hour early? That would give him an apt amount of time to have fun with her, Davis mused.

“I see, I’ve notified the interviewer, but they do have an interview for two with another, so you will have to wait,” Davis said.

May perked up, a grin making its way to her face, “Oh, great! Okay, I don’t mind that. Thank you, sir.”

Davis sat back, staring up at her. Calling a receptionist “sir”? She was very nervous about this interview, wasn’t she? That was okay, he—He watched as she turned and left, not sparing him a second glance. He hesitated.

… Ah. Most women, when interested in him, would stay to chat. Well, it wasn’t the worst loss, he mused. She was thin enough that it was obvious she was on some sort of hard drugs—or maybe a rather intense diet. He was certain he would break her, regardless.

Standing up, he noted that instead of going on her cell, as he expected—planning to ask for her number—she had picked up a Forbes magazine. Going through it, he noted that she skipped all of the gossipy articles and went straight to the legal section of the magazine, reading through it.

Was her blushing due to her nerves? She seemed extremely relaxed, eyes focused intently on the article. She wasn’t reading it just to look good—she seemed genuinely interested in the article.

He recalled that he’d told the hiring manager to hire her solely based off of that. Despite later figuring out her lack of education, he never regretted that choice. It had interested him greatly when she looked at him in his office without any shred of recognition. Even the third time they’d met, on the roof, she still took several moments to recognize him.

As if she didn’t care to recall his face, Davis mused, thinking about how she looked on the roof. She’d been staring down, shoulders slumped. When she turned, she made up such a beautiful lie, smiling and gesturing as if the lie had been the truth.

In that moment, Davis hadn’t believed her solely because of her physical status. She looked weak, like the most mild of winds would blow her over. When he’d learned the truth—that it wasn’t drugs, but that she’d been starving herself to keep the internship, Davis had admired her drive.

Davis leaned back, staring at his six monitors. Three of them had information on the various stock markets around the world, one playing a 24/7 news broadcast, and the other two being blank.

Davis had admired quite a lot about her, he mused. From her arriving earlier than he did to her constant work to organize his legal papers for him, she’d been amazing. After saving her life, Davis could admit that his vague interest grew into something deeper. A caring sort of obsession.

His mind flashed, recalling her tears as she looked up at him, hurt and broken, as he wiped her tears away.

Maybe more of a selfish obsession, he realized. Davis sighed, shaking his head as his computer pinged. Opening his emails once more, he clicked on the first of several links his assistant had sent him.

Davis watched a montage, looking at the title screen.

“I do not own any of the footage and am not officially affiliated with Blood in any way, shape, or form! Please don’t sue!”

Soon, that faded into black as music began, and Davis watched footage of someone climbing the stairs to his building. Davis watched as he appeared, grabbing the cameraman’s arm.

Oh, so this “Dungeon_Blood” was the man who had saved his life…?

The man looked up at Davis as he spoke—he watched as he spoke silkenly.

“This building is structurally unsound. I would suggest leaving,” Davis had said.

“I can’t hear you. Can you hear me?” Blood asked, looking up at him and tilting his head.

Davis closed his eyes, recalling just how silent the world had been. The man he’d presumed to be a raider hadn’t seemed to have spoken at all, just staring up at him with a curious tilt to his helmet. It was only after a failed attempt at charades that Davis had realized that the man had been speaking, but couldn’t be understood.

“Can you hear me?” Davis said loudly.

Davis opened his eyes, watching the rest of the montage. He watched as Blood carried him down, staring at his injured form. He chuckled quietly when he heard the man sassing him about his name being Blood.

Davis shivered as Blood mentioned him losing a leg, glad that hadn’t happened. As he watched the video, his hands reached out, gently rubbing his leg where he’d been injured. Davis watched as Blood ran into the portal with hardly any hesitation, intent on saving him. Davis found his heart pounding as a spear was sent careening toward Blood from a distance.

He watched as Blood dropped his bat and surrendered, flirting with the terrifying skeletons towering over the man, showcasing his charming bravado. Davis hummed quietly, wondering if Blood was into men. Even if he wasn’t, Davis was quite good at convincing even the straightest of men to sleep with him, so he would certainly appreciate a chance to speak with the man once more.

Though, maybe Blood would be like May—completely uninterested in Davis.

May was very odd, in Davis’s perspective. She’d been the very first person he’d met that treated him like he was nothing to her. She never even looked at him unless he spoke to her, and even then she hardly seemed to care about anything he said.

As the owner of the company, he’d thought he’d never find an employee that would treat him like he was a human being instead of treating him like he was an opportunity to get a raise. He didn’t think he could meet someone who—no matter how flirtatious he got—completely ignored his potential as a sexual partner, either. While he’d listened and watched as she lusted over him with his secretary, he knew she held no actual interest in him. Davis wondered if perhaps she’d been lying in order to gain a friend at work.

Davis’ thoughts faded as he watched Blood sprint through a mass of skeletons, “Just hold on, gym-guy!” Blood cried out to him as the man staggered along the skulls of the skeletons, holding the healing potion to his chest as he looked at the skeletons, his phone’s flashlight barely illuminating the skulls before his feet landed on them, “I’ll save you! I promise.”

The video ended with Blood gently cradling Davis, feeding him the potion and watching him heal. Davis shifted, clicking on the next video regarding Blood without much thought at all. Then the next.

For the next week, Davis ended up watching Blood’s seemingly infinite content whenever he had even the slightest of free-time, playing the long-form videos on one of his monitors constantly as he worked. Blood was a very admirable person, Davis mused, silver eyes glittering as he stared at the man.

Davis wanted Blood. As he did with anything he wanted to own, Davis started planning. Watching speculation about whether Blood would join a guild or not got him interested, and soon, an idea was born.

If Davis could join Blood—be it as a party member or as the leader of his guild—Davis could eventually gain Blood’s trust, and convince him to sign a contract that would sign Blood’s life away to him. This was the best idea, as then Davis could do with Blood whatever he wished.

The man, in his dark office, started setting up a plan to make Blood his.

“Soon,” Davis breathed, his fingers ghosting over the screen, paused on a photo taken of Blood staring out at a crowd of people, “You will be mine, “Blood”. You can look forward to it.”