Beep!
The machine beeped loudly as a silhouette raised his upper body, exhaling softly before removing the VR helmet still strapped to his head. His eyes blinked against the soft white lights overhead. Around him, several other gaming cabins lay still—some occupied, most already empty.
The sun's already up… must be why so many have logged out already. The silhouette wasn't shocked. Nor was he surprised at the quietness of the room—only a few bodies remained online at this hour.
He climbed down from his cabin and strolled up to the counter, a satisfied smile stretched across his face like someone who had just touched treasure.
"Good morning, Sir," the attendant greeted politely. A woman in her early twenties, neat in her uniform, clearly the one in charge of this floor of the gaming company.
"Good morning, Annabel. What does the time say, please?"
"It's already 9:14 a.m., Sir."
"Nine fourteen…" The silhouette bit his lower lip. Then, with a casual motion, dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a sleek card.
"Today's Friday, right?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Annabel, we're already friends now. Why are you still calling me 'Sir'?"
"But it's against company protocol, Sir," she said carefully.
That made the silhouette's smile falter. His brow furrowed slightly as he withdrew his card and turned to leave—but just then, a soft voice reached his ears.
"Michael, I'm sorry," she called gently.
He halted mid-stride. The tension on his face cracked into a mischievous grin. He turned back around with the elegance of someone who knew the world moved for him.
"Now doesn't that sound good in your ears?" Michael chuckled.
Annabel looked down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. Her fingers fidgeted behind the counter.
"It's just… if they find out—"
"No one's going to touch you as long as I'm around," Michael boasted, handing her the card again.
"Since it's Friday, withdraw money for three days. And also…" he paused, a playful gleam in his eye, "get yourself something nice to eat."
Annabel accepted the card with a nod as Michael stepped out of the building, the doors hissing open to meet the brightness of day.
"Three days of straight grinding should be enough to level up to 20," he said, rubbing his palms together excitedly. "Then I can finally challenge my Tier 1 promotion quest. This is so awesome!"
His voice echoed with joy as he strolled leisurely down the street toward his apartment, the morning breeze brushing across his cheek.
"Brother Isiaka…" Michael's expression grew distant. "What kind of miraculous encounter did Brother Isiaka stumble into? His demeanor… everything about him has changed."
He recalled the moment he used the Eye of the Pendant to gaze at Malik. What he saw was terrifying.
A sheathed aura, suppressed like a volcano on pause—if released, it could probably slaughter a Mini Boss in one blow.
"Should I ask him? Would he even tell me?" Michael muttered, stepping into a nearby restaurant. He ordered food and sat down quickly, already digging in as his thoughts replayed Malik's tyrannical response to Void Reaper.
'Some things are better left untouched,' he thought, chewing absently.
"What's he planning? Growing stronger for revenge? Is he aiming to flatten the Shadow Guild?"
"But then… if he truly wanted revenge, why didn't he accept the Blood Crescent Guild's offer?" Michael tapped the table with his chopsticks.
"With that combat prowess, he could've climbed their ranks fast—used them to wage war on Shadow, and maybe even become the Top Dog of our university…"
The thought made him laugh. He tossed some coins on the table and exited the restaurant with a satisfied stomach and a mind still bubbling with questions.
"My house route's still far…" he muttered. "Is there anything I really need to carry?"
He paused, then smacked his forehead lightly.
"Yes—my phone! I haven't checked it in days."
As he lazily resumed his walk, he hadn't gone more than three meters when a familiar voice called out.
"Arrgh, Michael! What are you doing here?"
Michael raised a brow. "I don't get your question, Trust. Isn't this the route to my house? Shouldn't I be here?"
Trust looked at him like he had lost his mind. "You've been playing GRO, right?"
"I just logged out to check something."
"You just logged out? Bro, everyone's trying to log in! The gaming centers are almost full. After the Feral Dungeon news dropped on the forums, people have been flooding the servers!"
"Even now? In broad daylight?"
"Yup. Work or not, God's Realm Online is trending. Half the country's diving into dungeons right now."
Michael's eyes widened. "You mean soon all the cabins will be fully booked?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if the rich folks extended their bookings up to the top floors—dropping coin like we can only dream of," Trust replied.
"And here I am, acting all carefree while Brother Isiaka's waiting for me!" Michael cursed under his breath, spun on his heels, and took off running back toward the gaming center, Trust hot on his trail.
"Brother Isiaka… isn't that the guy who got us hunted by the Shadow Guild?" Trust muttered. "How can Michael still be with that guy? Is he out of his mind?"
"Wait… wasn't his account crippled?"
"Did he create a new one? No way. GRO makes you wait four months to create a new account if yours gets crippled. So which 'Brother Isiaka' is Angel Michael talking about?"
"Annabel!" Michael called out the moment they burst through the center's doors.
Annabel, who had been attending to another customer, quickly wrapped up and rushed over to the cabin Michael had previously occupied. It was still empty—even as other cabins were now packed to the brim.
"I'm really glad you came back early, Michael," she said as she tapped the panel to activate the pod. "If you'd been just a little later, someone else would've taken it."
Michael smiled softly and walked toward the cabin. She wondered to herself—what kind of backlash would she have faced if someone else had claimed it?
"I'm the one who dragged him back," Trust said, glancing around. "Now won't you look for a cabin for me?"
"I'm sorry, Sir. All the cabins are full—except for a spare VR helmet. Unless… someone's willing to share theirs."
"What are you waiting for then?" Trust smirked. "Connect the helmet. I'll share with Michael—I'm sure he won't mind."
He walked over to the cabin.
"Or do you mind, friend?"
"As long as you don't disturb me…" Michael muttered, slipping the VR helmet back over his head and lying into the cabin like it was his second home. Trust relaxed in the chair beside him and fitted his helmet on as well.
"Login," they both said in unison.
And the world around them bled into brilliant white.