"You may want to bathe—how long has it been?"

Elizabeth stood beside Stephen, giving him a gentle nudge with her boot. She wrinkled her nose, her tone more matter-of-fact than teasing. She was right—Stephen desperately needed to bathe. He had been fighting and traveling non-stop, trying to survive and find civilization, and his hygiene had taken a serious hit. At this point, he was coated in a layer of grime, and the dried blood from various fights clung to his skin and clothes.

Stephen grimaced, slightly embarrassed. "It’s... been a while," he mumbled, dusting himself off out of habit, though the effort was futile. His clothes were already stained and filthy beyond help. He was about to try and explain himself further, but Elizabeth simply walked over to her pack, retrieved a white block, and tossed it to him.

He caught it, glancing down to see a simple bar of soap.

Soap - Material

Stephen looked up, confused for a moment, but Elizabeth was already gesturing toward the stream nearby. "Go on, take a break. I’ll keep watch while you clean up."

She gave him a firm, no-nonsense look, making it clear she wasn’t just suggesting it—she was telling him to take the time to clean himself up. It wasn’t playful or flirtatious, just practical. Stephen, still a bit self-conscious, nodded and started making his way to the water. He peeled off his armor, which clattered heavily to the ground, and stripped down as he waded into the stream.

Though the water was cold, it was refreshing, and he sighed in relief. As he scrubbed away the dirt and blood with the soap, Stephen glanced back a few times, making sure Elizabeth wasn’t watching. She was at her camp, working on her gear, completely focused on polishing her armor. His initial worries about her peeking seemed unnecessary. She seemed far more concerned with their preparations than with any awkwardness between them.

As Stephen dunked his head under the water to wash his hair, he felt a sense of ease returning. The constant tension of being on alert for monsters had taken its toll, and for the first time in days, he allowed himself to relax.

After a few more minutes, he was done. The water around him had turned murky from all the grime he had washed off, and Stephen felt human again. As he walked out of the stream, dripping wet, he glanced at Elizabeth, who was still focused on her armor. He started to dress quickly, but she looked up just as he was fastening his pants.

"Feel better?" she asked, her tone neutral and practical.

Stephen cleared his throat, trying to cover his embarrassment. "Yeah, much better. Thanks for the soap."

Elizabeth gave a curt nod. "Good. You’ll need all your strength and focus for what’s coming. And besides, you can’t fight well if you’re covered in filth. It’ll weigh you down." She wasn’t being critical, just practical, and Stephen appreciated that.

"Right," Stephen muttered, pulling his shirt over his head.

As Stephen dressed, a thought occurred to him. "You don’t seem worried about monsters attacking while we’re out here. How come?"

Elizabeth looked up at him, blinking in surprise. “Why would I be? We’re not near any known territories, and I’ve set up wards around the camp,” she said, her voice casual, as if the answer were obvious. “Plus, you can usually feel when something dangerous is nearby. Haven’t you noticed?”

Stephen paused, unsure how to respond. “Feel when something’s nearby?” he asked, genuinely confused. He wasn’t sure if that was part of the game mechanics or something he should have instinctively known. In his old life, he’d relied on game prompts to sense danger, not some innate feeling.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Elizabeth furrowed her brow, studying him for a moment. "Yeah... you just know. It’s part of how adventurers survive." She seemed to consider his question more deeply. “You didn’t grow up around adventurers, did you?”

Stephen hesitated. “No... I didn’t.”

“Explains a lot,” she muttered under her breath before adding more firmly, “You’ll get used to it. Your body learns to recognize the signs, like changes in the air or the quiet that settles right before something strikes.”

Stephen nodded, taking in her words, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something—something that came so naturally to the people of this world. His Glitched title had to be messing with more than just his abilities—it was affecting his basic knowledge of how this place worked.

But that wasn’t something he could explain to her yet.

Elizabeth seemed satisfied with his understanding and went back to her task, polishing her armor in silence. Stephen, now feeling much cleaner and refreshed, sat down beside her, watching as she worked on her gear.

"Hey, Elizabeth, I’ve got a question for you," he said, breaking the silence.

Elizabeth paused, looking up from her work with a curious expression. "What is it?"

"Do you... feel a compulsion to act a certain way? Because of your Job, I mean," Stephen asked, his voice hesitant.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question. "Yes, everyone does. It’s part of the Job system. We’re all raised to understand and control those urges from a young age. It’s something you learn to manage." She stopped for a moment, studying Stephen’s face. "I suppose you don’t know that because of your memory wipe."

Stephen sighed. "Yeah, I’m starting to realize there’s a lot I don’t know."

Elizabeth gave him a sympathetic look. "You’ll get the hang of it. You’re learning fast."

Stephen appreciated the reassurance, but there was still so much he didn’t know. He looked down at his gear, feeling the weight of his ignorance. "Thanks for the advice... and the soap."

Elizabeth smiled lightly. "Don’t mention it. Now, let’s eat."

----------------------------------------

Later that evening, the two sat by the campfire, eating a hearty meal Elizabeth had cooked up. The warmth of the food filled Stephen with a sense of comfort, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. As they ate in silence, the sun set in the distance, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky.

"Do you know how to craft?" Elizabeth asked out of the blue, looking at him over the flames.

Stephen blinked. "Craft? I mean, I assumed you needed a blacksmith or something for that."

Elizabeth chuckled, shaking her head. "No, you can craft some basic gear yourself. Do you have any pelts?"

Stephen opened his inventory and pulled out a few Frogling pelts, laying them on the ground. "Yeah, I’ve got these."

Elizabeth picked one up and examined it. "These will work. Just focus on what you want to make—something like a cloak or basic armor—and give it a try."

Stephen nodded, following her instructions. He focused on crafting a cloak, but an error message popped up in front of him.

System Message: Not enough materials. Required materials: 5 Frogling Pelts.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Looks like you need more materials. Try again once you have enough."

Stephen tried a few more times, but his first attempts resulted in nothing more than a mess of scraps. "Well, that didn’t work," he said, feeling a bit defeated.

Elizabeth smiled softly. "Don’t worry. Crafting takes practice, and not everyone is skilled at it right away. That’s why blacksmiths and tailors are still in business."

----------------------------------------

The next morning, Stephen awoke to a light kick against his leg. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and saw Elizabeth, now fully armored, standing over him. She looked much more intimidating in her plate armor, though her voice was as cheerful as ever.

"Time to get up. We’ve got a long journey ahead."

Stephen sat up, squinting against the bright sunlight. "Elizabeth?" he asked groggily.

She smiled behind her helmet. "Who else? You haven’t seen me in my armor yet, have you?"

She reached down and helped him to his feet. Her strength was surprising, given her size, but she made it look easy. Once he was standing, she dusted him off with quick, efficient movements.

Stephen glanced down at the pair of polished axes she had tossed at his feet. "You made these?"

Elizabeth nodded. "While you were asleep. They should be better than what you had."

Stephen picked them up, giving them a few test swings. They were lighter, but somehow felt stronger. He grinned. "Thanks. These are great."

Elizabeth waved him off. "Don’t mention it. Now, let’s get moving. The tent’s gone, and so is the protection."

With that, they packed up and set off, heading toward whatever challenges awaited them next.