POV Arthur:

"Now, for the inspection, I want you to undress."

I swallowed hard and complied, removing my clothes until I was down to my underwear. My heart raced as the guard meticulously inspected every piece of my equipment. I tried to stay calm, focusing on maintaining my composure when she suddenly looked me in the eye.

"Now, take off your underwear," she said.

I jumped, a wave of embarrassment washing over me. "Uh... do you really want me to take off my underwear?" I asked, my voice betraying my discomfort.

She smiled slightly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "What, are you embarrassed to take off your boxers?" she asked, chuckling softly.

"Yes... extremely," I admitted, feeling my cheeks flush with heat.

The guard paused for a moment, then shrugged. "It's your first expedition; there’s little chance you’re hiding anything dangerous," she said with a forgiving smile. "We’ll let it slide this time, but keep it between us, okay?"

"I'll take this secret to my grave!" I blurted out, perhaps a bit too loudly.

"Shh, you don’t have to shout..." she said, stepping closer. "We’ll probably see each other again, so until next time," she whispered, patting my chest lightly.

As she stepped aside to let me get dressed, she leaned against the wall, watching me through the entire process, which only added to my discomfort.

I wasn’t particularly confident about my body—if I had to rate myself, I’d probably give it a 7.5 out of 10. I hadn’t really thought much about my appearance since coming to this world, but it seemed tastes hadn’t changed too much from my previous life.

Avoiding eye contact to maintain my composure, I quickly dressed and followed her to the exit, where the rest of the group was waiting, minus Ethan.

The atmosphere was heavy with grief. The girls were leaning on each other, Nina crying quietly while Emilia rested her head on her shoulder. James stood against the wall, staring into space, his expression unreadable.

Not wanting to seem heartless or indifferent, I decided to approach James and apologize for my earlier outburst.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

When I stopped in front of him, he looked up, his gaze suspicious. "Say, about earlier..."

"I don’t want to talk, Arthur, please," he cut me off abruptly.

"No, I just wanted to apologize," I continued. "I got carried away at the wrong time. I didn’t know Liam that well, so it doesn’t hit me as hard, but I want you to know you have my condolences. I’m sorry, that’s all..." I stepped aside, giving him his space without waiting for a response.

With the mood somber, I sat against the wall and took the opportunity to check my phone, which had been unusable outside. The moment I turned it on, I regretted not disabling notifications; my screen was flooded with alerts, making navigation a nightmare.

After spending a few minutes clearing and blocking all the notifications, I opened the TLOU (The Last Of Us) store page. The interface displayed stats I hadn’t seen before—download graphs, average play times, and percentages showing how my game ranked in various categories. Unsurprisingly, it was in the top 1% across all parameters, which brought a small smile to my face.

As I continued to explore the game’s stats, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I quickly closed my phone and turned to see Ethan looking at me intently.

"So, did you pass?" he whispered.

I nodded, smiling faintly. "Don’t worry, she’s nice and warm."

He grinned, glancing around at the group, who seemed utterly broken. With a sigh, he walked over to each of them. Eventually, the girls remained together while Ethan and James left, exchanging quick goodbyes with me.

I didn’t blame them for their reactions. I understood their grief, and I was sure that, given time, things would return to normal. What shocked me, though, was that witnessing Liam’s head being destroyed hadn’t affected me as much as I expected.

On the way home, I thought back to my first encounters with corpses in the forest. Had those experiences desensitized me? Humans are known for their adaptability, but could mine be happening too quickly?

As these thoughts weighed on me, I decided to consult the system.

'Mel?'

~Yes, host?~

'I know you can tell what’s on my mind. Do you have any answers? Isn’t this too fast?'

~To answer your question, people respond differently to trauma. Some never recover from what you saw, while others process it more quickly. Your adaptability might seem fast, but know that the system supports you in ways you might not be aware of.~

'That doesn’t really answer my question... But Mel, what exactly are you? Are you the one who brought me here? Did I die in my other world?'

~I don’t know myself, Arthur. I appeared at the same time you did.~

'All right...'

Contemplating Mel’s vague response, I finally arrived home. As I opened the apartment door, a wave of anger surged through me. After everything I’d been through, this place seemed different—its inhabitants oblivious to the dangers outside. They lounged around while others fought for survival.

We—my group and I—risked our lives so that they could continue strolling through their pristine cities and beautiful parks. "Seriously..." I muttered as I undressed, preparing for a much-needed shower.

Afterward, feeling refreshed but drained, I didn’t bother checking the statistics again. I headed straight for bed, the comfort of my mattress pulling me into a deep, well-deserved sleep.