7 minutes before Alan and company left The Drinking Banshee...

Marissa emerged from a bathroom stall, a smirk on her face. "Now that's what I call a good make-out session!" she exclaimed, glancing back at Matthew sitting on the toilet, blood oozing from his slit throat.

"W-h-y?" he gasped weakly.

"Because you dumped me first, silly, choosing that jerk Marco over me. Anyway, you're not worth my time anymore. See ya!" She waved cheerfully as his body pixelated.

Humming, Marissa approached the sinks to examine her reflection. This desperately needs a new look. She opened her User Interface, but before hitting the customization tab, she noticed that Alan had shut down communications.

I wonder how he's doing... Checking her Friend List, she confirmed Alan was still online. At least Marco hasn’t killed him... That's good.

While browsing through hairstyle options, a Party Chat notification popped up, this time from a guild partner.

She sighed before accepting the call.

(Marshrissa!) Helen's bubbly voice echoed in her head. (How’s my favorite jumpy person in all The Novus? Ribbit, ribbit!)

(Not in the mood, Rosbif... Unless you've brought something from Iregorn.)

(I've got a box of those twisty lollies you like. How about that, buttercup?)

(Oh, I really need one of those right now,) Marissa said, still browsing hairstyles. She watched herself in a high ponytail before shaking her head. Long hair is more Amelia’s thing. She sighed. (Heard the latest news?)

(Yep. Turns out Marco is a complete blighter.)

Marissa frowned. A what now? Whatever… Damn full-blooded Brit and her slang.

(I know, right? What does Astrid think about all this? Are we disqualified from the Iregorn’s tournament now?)

(Nah. She was talking to the organizer; she might sort things out. Still at The Drinking Banshee?)

(Yes. Why?) Marissa replied absently, choosing a pixie cut. This will do for now… Wait, what did she say?

She checked Helen’s current location on her Friend List: 'Londorus - Shooting Star’s HQ'. / Astrid’s location: 'West Londorus - The Drinking Banshee'.

Suddenly, an explosion from outside shook the building. That must be Astrid. She sure lives up to her 'Comet' surname.

(Got any other news?) Helen teased.

(What 'other' news?)

(Our guild’s vault—it seems Jason cleaned it out before quitting.)

(W-what?! Is that even possible? I mean, isn’t there a failsafe against a single User...?)

(Sweetie, this game encourages grabbing all the money you can by any means necessary.)

(That bastard!) Marissa clenched her fists, pacing in the confined space. (This must have been Marco’s plan all along, appointing Jason as the Guild’s Treasurer.)

(Maybe,) Helen mused. (But what can we do? That place is crawling with Max-Levelers.)

Did Amelia know about this?

She tapped on her User Interface more forcefully than necessary.

(You’ve gone quiet, Marshrissa.)

(Where are you now?)

(On my way to pick you all up.)

(I’ll stay…) Marissa said, pulling a white ceramic mask from her inventory.

(Someone sounds daring! If you’re planning something risky, count me in!)

(No. I’ll handle this alone. Just... don't tell Astrid.)

Marissa hung up, donned the mask, and recited: "Now you see me, look again. You think you know me? Try again. Another I am, malice I have."

The artifact transformed her body into a shadowed silhouette, which she customized with a few button presses and sliders.

She shortened her stature, dyed her hair golden blonde, and altered her face and body beyond typical avatar customizations.

Finishing her disguise with a strapless dress and makeup inspired by her sister, she muttered in a deeper voice, "This will be fun..."

Minutes later, as everyone resumed their feasting and drinking, she walked confidently among them, searching for her prey. It’s good that not everyone here is a guilder.

She noticed some of her male ex-guild partners accompanied by nodding, overly-excited level-forty women in skimpy dresses. Diggers. Women who quit fighting to live off others. I despise them, but tonight, I’m grateful for their pitiful existence. Hu-hu...

Marissa glanced at her enhanced bust and grimaced. Even copying Amelia’s size, I can’t believe she’s comfortable with these...

She bumped into someone who snarled, "Watch where you're going, you bimbo!"

"S-sorry!" Marissa stammered, face-to-face with her sister, who scrutinized her attire disdainfully.

"Pitiful..." Amelia hissed, noticing the fake number 42 above Marissa's head and walked away.

Well, my disguise works, but it hurts being on the receiving end of Amelia’s scorn... She exhaled deeply.

Locating Jason Foreman was easy as he was loudly boasting, "Watching the Golden Bitch embarrass herself was the funniest thing ever!"

There you are...

Marissa stealthily took a cup from a nearby table and approached him.

Jason continued to guffaw, annoying his companion, Faiza Khalil, who grimaced. Don’t worry, girl, I’ll take him off your hands soon.

Marissa pretended to trip, spilling her drink on Jason’s pants. "Oh, how clumsy of me. So embarrassing," she mumbled.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked, helping her up.

"No, I’m not. I was about to toast with my friends but wet your pants instead..." She looked him in the eye and giggled. "Wait, that sounded kinda dirty, tee-hee."

"I can fix this in a second," Jason said, tapping his User interface to change into an orange full suit. "See? What were you toasting for again?"

"Because we got rid of that dreaded witch, of course."

He nodded, smirking. "I like you. I’m Jason Foreman. And you are?"

"Brittany!”

“Where are your friends? Maybe you could introduce them to me."

"I was looking for them, but it seems like they all found company. Everyone but me. I hate being the last to find a date, or not finding one at all!"

"Why don’t you join us then? My friend Faiza here..." He turned around, but she had vanished. "And she's gone. Whatever," he smiled, his eyes lingering on Marissa's cleavage.

Just as planned.

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+

An hour later, at the Shooting Stars headquarters, someone knocked on Alan’s door.

“The Guild Master asked me to deliver this to you, sir,” said a male NPC, handing Alan a set of clothes. “Is the color or design not to your liking?”

Alan shook his head. “No, it’s not that! Thank you. And thank Astrid too.”

“You're welcome,” the NPC bowed slightly. “Astrid Bradford has also instructed me to inform you that she'll be waiting for you at the main building's entrance at nine o'clock.”

“Understood. I'll be there.”

Alan closed the door, sat on the edge of his bed, and resumed what he had been doing before: staring absently at his User Interface and the list of guild members.

What a freaking mess...

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

He glanced at the new clothes, neatly folded on the bed. I should take a shower first.

Adjusting the water temperature was simpler than on the Santa María, and the spacious shower was more enjoyable, yet his mind remained in turmoil, haunted not only by Marco’s words but also by Amelia's comments.

After the longest shower of his life, he lay naked on the bed, refusing to dress for half an hour.

It’s 8:35 pm… Almost time… But... I’m scared to get out of this room.

I’m scared of seeing Astrid’s face... I’m scared of not being able to find Ashley when I return... I’m scared of this freaking mission Isabella assigned me... I’m fucking scared of what Marco said...

I don’t want to leave this bed.

Please, everyone, forget about me and leave me alone.

But at 8:41 pm, he stood up and examined the clothes: a red shirt, black formal pants, and black leather shoes.

I don’t think red really suits me, Astrid, but it would be rude not to try them on at least once.

He dressed traditionally and studied his reflection, appearing taller and more robust, which made him chuckle. He longed to smash the mirror but remembered it belonged to the guild, not him.

Walking to the promised meeting place, his legs felt like rubber, and his arms as heavy as a gorilla's. Ignoring the stares of other guild members was harder than ever, given the events of earlier.

I don’t think going out is a good idea, he thought, peering at the street. I should tell Astrid that we should stay instead. She should call an emergency meeting with the remaining guild members and discuss what Shooting Stars should do next.

He shut his eyes tight. And most importantly... I should...

“Kept you waiting?” a voice said from behind him after a tap on the shoulder. Alan turned to see a girl in a light-blue sleeveless sweater dress, thigh-high white stockings, and blue high heels. A long side-braid adorned with a blue ribbon rested over her left shoulder.

Alan gasped, struck by her appearance. “My goodness, Astrid! You look amazing!”

“Thanks! You look handsome too.” She approached to pick the hem of his shirt. “Red really suits you.”

“B-but of course it does! Or maybe...” He deepened his voice and struck a simple model pose, hand on his chin, “I’m the one who makes this look good.”

“Look at you!” She giggled. “Let me get my camera!”

“No photos, please, or I’ll have to charge you.”

“Isn’t giving you these clothes enough?” she asked, her tone turning serious. Alan stuttered for words until she grinned. “I’m kidding, silly! You should have seen your face!”

“I’ll pay for them, though. Once I get some gold.”

“No, Alan,” she placed a palm on his chest. “I gifted you all this because I knew that when you came back, you’d only have your Bronze armor.” She smiled warmly at him. “They are a gift.”

Alan looked back at the guild building, knowing someone was likely watching them from one of its many windows, judging and cursing them.

“Astrid...”

“Come, Alan. We have reservations at a nice place downtown. We can’t keep them waiting.”

I can’t say no to you.

He walked beside her, promising himself he’d shake off his gloomy demeanor once they left the guild’s grounds. Yet, he couldn't.

Do we really deserve a single moment of peace?

“Hey, Novus to Alan! Are you listening to what I’m saying?”

He blinked repeatedly. “Sorry for zoning out, Astrid. What were you saying?”

She squinted at him. “Um, déjà vu... Anyway, I was asking you, what do you think about this city?”

He looked around. Despite being the same road he had walked with Tamara and Marissa, the city lights painted the streets in a more gothic style, as if now inhabited by creatures of the night. Yet, he felt like no evil lurked in every corner or alley.

There were still vehicles and mounts passing by, but as they vanished into the distance, a quiet bubble enveloped them, filled only by the sound of her heels—a reassuring sound, confident, firm steps.

“I like this place...” he finally responded.

“Glad to hear that. This will be your new hometown, after all.”

Ashley’s face flashed through his mind.

One thing at a time, Alan.

While crossing a bridge, Astrid stopped halfway and pointed across the lake in front of them. They could see Londorus extending on the horizon. “Look at it, Alan,” she said, leaning on the railing. “Isn’t it beautiful? It’s modeled after the greatest city ever built by my fellow countrymen, the British! Supposedly...” She muttered the last bit. “I’m pretty sure the developers took some liberties with certain landmarks...”

“I’d like to explore it all someday.”

“Count on me. I know Londorus like the back of my hand! This place has everything: a stadium, theaters, talent studios, and, if I may say so myself, the best coffee shop in all The Novus!”

While she puffed out her chest in pride, Alan stared at a giant animated billboard where a pink-haired pop star promoted a new soft drink brand.

‘Forget your troubles drinking something cosmic!’

“I wouldn’t mind a sip of that,” he said before Astrid pulled him by the wrist.

“We’ll drink something better, I promise.”

I'd forgotten how soft her hand was, he thought, glancing at the back of her neck. Wait... huh?!

Astrid’s sweater dress had an open back, revealing her soft, white skin down to her waist.

This view is far more beautiful than admiring the city! He shut his eyes, feeling guilty for staring, and an unexpected calmness filled his heart. He continued walking blindly while Astrid led the way.

Like back then...

She could walk him through the deepest layers of hell, and he would still feel safe.

Yes... Although her hand is just a simulation of the real thing, I still feel this is where I belong.

Alan took a deep breath, noticing a surge of noise nearby. They must have arrived at downtown Londorus.

He refocused on the world around him, meeting the gaze of people reading his current level. He then noticed he couldn’t see Astrid's level.

The realization caused a piercing pain in his chest.

“Here it is,” she beamed, as he read the café’s name: ‘New Camelot Café’.

“But, Astrid, it says it’s closed.”

“It’s okay,” she said, pulling him inside.

The sound of a bell signaled their entrance, and the small size of the café perplexed him, able to accommodate only five tables. At that moment, it was empty.

I thought she’d bring me to a fancier place. But... this place isn’t bad at all.

He inhaled deeply, the aroma of something prepared with butter filling the air. It smelled of coffee too, the real kind, unlike the black liquid Isabella had fed him.

It... reminds me of my father.

A tall woman with dark skin greeted them from the counter. “Hi, fellas! Table for two?”

“Correct!” Astrid beamed. “We’re here for your nicest table, please.”

“Right this way, honey,” the woman nodded, pointing at the stairs leading to the first floor. A male NPC also stepped out of the kitchen to welcome them.

Upstairs, the place resembled an apartment, but she didn’t stop there, pointing to another staircase leading to the rooftop. The establishment was at the edge of the lake they had admired minutes ago. Alan stepped forward to gaze at it. The Novus moon and the city lights on the other side reflected on the water.

“Alan,” Astrid called, standing beside a table with two seats, a vase with a flower, and a lit candle waiting at the center.

He walked to his chair, his mouth agape. “You... prepared all this?”

“Yes! Well, Mona did, but I told her to.”

“Wait, do you own this place?”

“What gave me away?” she chuckled. “Do you like it? Asto--I mean, my dad used to bring me to a café just like this when I was little, and I recreated it to be as close as possible from memory.”

Astrid caressed the black table, making Alan wonder if the texture of its wood was also engraved in her brain. There she was, smiling with pink-painted lips. Her crystalline, ice-blue eyes seemed lost in thought, and her sulky expression looked like something worthy of immortalizing in a painting.

“Thanks for sharing this with me,” he said.

“Why are you thanking me? You haven’t even tasted the food yet. Please, take a seat, and don’t let this place fool you. You can order whatever you want, and Mona will prepare it for you.”

Alan found a button on his side of the table and skimmed through a menu. "Okay then! If you insist… Hey, waffles. It’s been so long since I tasted them."

"Good choice! Let's have that."

“Wait, no, it’s too late to eat that. Besides, it was a very childish choice.”

“I already told you to order whatever you want. And who decides if having waffles for dinner is childish?” Hearing Astrid’s suddenly serious tone made him question if she was joking again, but as the seconds passed, she did not giggle. “I’ll order strawberry waffles. You?”

“The same.”

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

Astrid placed the orders in silence, while Alan clenched his fists under the table. Earlier this morning, I envisioned this to be a mature dinner with steak and wine, and I’ve already thrown it out the window with painful ease.

"When did you get back?" she suddenly asked.

"Yesterday."

"Sorry for being late."

He cleared his throat. "Tamara told me you were part of the Somnium Project. You never mentioned it. That's cool. Do you mind if I ask you—?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Oh! S-sorry."

“I’m not trying to be rude, it’s just that… It’s not a good story to share while dining. For the same reason, I’d rather not talk about what’s happening with the guild right now.” She pursed her lips. "Although there is something I should address immediately. I'm so sorry for the way the guild treated you.”

"It's okay. They’re not around any--"

"No, it's not okay!" she cried, rising from her seat. She then kneeled in front of him in a knightly fashion. Seeing her act like that while wearing such a cute outfit was bizarrely contrasting. “Although you’re the original founder, those imbeciles knew nothing about respect, so I take full responsibility for it. They mocked you, they tortured you, and--!”

“Astrid, please, stand up!”

What’s the meaning of this?! I'm nobody. She’s the Guild Master. This shouldn’t be like this!

“I swear that I’ll make them pay,” Astrid said with closed teeth, showing a gleam in her eyes that resembled Amelia Laflamme’s killing intent.

He rushed to take her by the arms. “What happened last night was not your fault! Even though you were their leader, you can’t control how people think or what they decide to do!”

She opened her eyes wide. “But they listened to Marco, didn’t they?” she said, frowning. “If only I was a stronger leader…”

I don’t want to even imagine how much weight you’ve carried under your shoulders all these years…

He grabbed her by the shoulders. “How can you say all that?! You made it possible for Shooting Stars to reach the top! I’ve seen what you’ve built. That HQ is amazing, and you’re surrounded by strong and skillful people like Tamara and Marissa. Besides… You said it yourself, remember, in front of Kathleen? You got rid of the bad weed. In a year, Shooting Stars will be stronger and better than ever!”

“Do you really think so?” Astrid looked up at him with watery eyes.

“I believe in you!”

“Oh, Alan! I’m so glad that you came back!” She embraced him tightly.

Although Marco told me that Astrid is the seventh most powerful User in all The Novus, her arms are so skinny and fragile!

If he hugged her back, his hands would touch her exposed back, and holding his breath was impossible, for her lavender aroma was alluringly intoxicating.

Don’t do this Astrid… I’m not used to being near a woman just yet! If you hold me like this… I’ll...

“Everything’s going to be alright now that you’re here,” she continued. “I just know it!”

W-what is she implying?!

‘Prove that you can be a strong-willed co-leader…’

Those were Marissa’s words, right? But no, no way…

‘Aaand... That guy tried to hit on her for ages. But hey, it’s not like they ever were a thing, so everything is fine, right? …Right?’

That other sentence hit him like a brick.

Oh… right… I wish… I could just forget that…

“Here are your orders, ma’am,” the male NPC with koala ears said, approaching them.

Red-faced, Astrid stepped back and wiped what seemed to be tears. "Let’s dig in, Alan."

“Yes,” he replied quietly.

+ + + + +

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+

Meanwhile, at the Drinking Banshee, Marissa Laflamme, disguised as Brittany, had encountered her first challenge.

This freaking pig!

“Just like Kathleen says, more people, more fun!” Jason Foreman said, laughing out loud, surrounded by three other girls.

Although I’m not really trying to seduce him for real, it really stinks that he didn’t settle just with me. But it’s alright. I have an ace under my sleeve.

She pulled out three pills from her inventory and waited for the other girls to leave their cups on the table.

And now, thanks to my ‘Sharpshooting’ Passive Skill, I should be able to… Using her thumb, she shot each pill into her targets’ cups, 5 feet away, and smiled when the first girl sipped.

Perfect.