CHAPTER 116: HEAVY BREAKFAST

Anshur sat by my bed until I fell asleep. Which was scary and awkward... And honestly, stimulating, but thankfully, she didn’t do anything, probably because of Eirlys’ order to make sure that I sleep.

I probably slept wrong that night, though, because I found myself waking up very late.

I woke up by the the knocking on the door, it dragged me out of sleep with sound as loud as a hammer striking stone.

My eyes felt glued shut, my mouth tasted like I’d swallowed dust, throat’s dry, and my entire body begged me to ignore it. I had gone to bed far too late, tossing and turning in a stew of frustration until past midnight.

The unending knockings were firm and polite, and was quite different from Anshur. With a grunt, I swung myself off the mattress and staggered to the door.

I caught sight of myself in the full-length mirror as I passed, and the reflection almost startled me.

My short black hair stuck out in greasy tufts like I’d fought a gorilla and it reassembled my outsides. The skin under my eyes was puffy, my lips pale, and my posture sagged forward as if my spine had given up halfway through the night.

A textbook loser if anyone cared to judge me, except for the absurdly nice silk dress hugging my figure and the perfectly matching underwear beneath it. Courtesy of the Sonder sisters’ bottomless wardrobe... Even though dressing me up like some doll didn’t change the fact that the hair and face didn’t match the nice fabrics.

When I opened the door, there stood Eirlys Sonder. And for once, I am not even surprised or horny seeing her.

"Are you coming to breakfast today?" she asked, her voice like water on polished glass.

"......Yes," I answered, slower than necessary, frustration clinging to the syllable. My head still throbbed faintly, a leftover ache from last night’s spiral.

I started to walk forward towards the doorframe, but her hand rose, stopping me with a gesture that was quiet yet absolute.

"Cory," she said, and there was something final in the way she held my gaze. "You must leave your anger in this room before you walk out this door. Hailie will be at the table and she’s excited to see you, as a friend she rarely has."

"Eirlys..."

"So if you wish to impose your view, your idea that video games are about competition, kills, statistics, efficiency, whatever; you keep it to yourself. Half the world plays for entertainment, for personal milestones, and that includes her."

Her words struck harder than I wanted to admit. I bit down on my lip, too stubborn to reply, the metallic tang of blood threatening to surface. There was no argument I could win here, not against that calm authority.

"...Fine," I muttered at last, swallowing my pride.

"... Do you promise, Cory Jay Smith?"

She used my full name, which startled me more than a bit.

"I promise." I said half-assedly

"What do you promise?" She pressed.

"I promise to not impose my ideas of how the game should be played to your lovely little 21-year-old sister, Hailie Sonder. I will let her play Darkmoon Adventure VR however she wants and doesn’t condemn her in any way, shape, or form. Even if she dies by trying to hit a fucking tank with a healer’s staff."

"... Cory." She shook her head, "You know I can’t let you come with that attitude."

"I..." I let out a sigh, "I will not say anything, if I do, you can perma ban me."

She lingered for a bit, before leading me towards the dining room, and during all this, I was just mindlessly staring at her ass from behind... Without a single thought forming, I was mostly thinking about how heavy my steps were.

The dining room was already alive when I arrived, they were probably setting up the tables while Eirlys went and get me, so my sole duty was just to plop my ass down and stuff my face like every other day.

The smell of freshly baked bread and sizzling butter filled the air, mingling with the sweetness of ripe fruit laid out in silver bowls.

Plates of golden and fluffy scrambled eggs, sat beside smoked salmon dressed with herbs. There were slices of cured ham, warm croissants still steaming, and pitchers of orange juice that caught the morning light.

It was the kind of breakfast spread I would’ve drooled over any other day, but here, I sat with my plate barely touched, the weight in my chest pressing down harder than my appetite could resist.

And then there was Hailie.

Bright as always, her smile practically glowing, her eyes carrying none of the darkness from last night. She chattered about the crisp weather, about how the marmalade tasted better today than yesterday, how her lever harp class was about to end soon, how she wanna sign up for a more advanced lesson, and her laugh rang without a care.

I stared at her, half-annoyed, half-envious. How could she sit there, unbothered, when Eirlys and I both knew what had happened in the game? Or maybe, perhaps... She didn’t know that we knew. Because How dare she have her life together, not being a loser like I am?

It was Eirlys who broke the tension, her tone gentle but direct.

"Hailie," she asked, setting her cup down with grace, "How’s your gaming session going?"

"Oh... I forgot to tell you guys!" Hailie paused, fork hovering midair, then lowered it with a sheepish grin. "I think I died? Um- We met this stranger, she turned out to be a contracted hunter, she was after Pearl, the wizard man with blue hair and glasses I told you about that Cory and I met in the hideout..."

"I do remember." Eirlys nodded, hand on a croissants .

"Um- she was very strong and fast, and tough, too! Marc and I didn’t make it out, but don’t worry! Mei, Rina, and Pearl escaped. They even grabbed the loot before returning to the hideout, they promised to give it all back to us when we log on for tonight’s session."

A sigh slipped out of me before I could stop it, my shoulders easing for the first time in hours. At least the items weren’t gone, that was half my anxiety dissolved right there; equipments took me a shitload of gold coins.

But relief didn’t soften the sharp edge in my tone when I spoke next.

"So what’s your plan then?" I asked, sarcasm lacing every word. "How exactly are you going to get back to level forty and priest class again?"

Hailie’s eyes lit up as though I had asked her about her favorite candy.

"I’ll just climb normally! It’ll be fun. And since Marc is also back at level one, maybe we can climb together, he’s a really good company? Um- ah! We can ask the other three if they can farm with us in the same party for EXP, too! Oh, Cory, do you want to come on tonight too?"

"... Me?" I asked, for some reason.

Hailie tilted her head innocently, before nodding with her eyes pinned tight on me.

I froze, the question jabbing at something raw inside me. My first instinct was immediate refusal, though I bit it back.

Inside, my thoughts tangled bitterly, I think Hailie wasn’t asking me to play with her; she was asking me to babysit.

She was useful in-game, sure, as does a healer, but the thought of dragging her corpse weight through another week or two of tedious grinding just to get her back where she was... it grated on me.

I mean, I could clear higher-level mobs solo now, rake in better XP, so it would be faster than before, but still, she was asking me to slow down for her, to waste more time.

A pulse of irritation thrummed at my temples.

Hailie Sonder was smiling so brightly, like none of this mattered, like losing two weeks of progress was just a funny anecdote, so... My mouth opened, and out came the excuse.

"I... I... Sorry Hailie, but recently I’ve been on a solo quest in game to get my new class, it’ll take maybe a week. I can’t- like... Uh, I can’t play with literally anyone right now, but I am still in game and we can chat."

...

That was fucking pathetic, and I think she knew, they both knew.

For the briefest flicker, her expression dimmed... Just a tiny dip in brightness, like a cloud crossing the sun, but then she was back to grinning.

"That’s okay! Make sure you stay safe, okay?" She said it lightly, as if it didn’t sting.

I looked down at my untouched plate, my fork still resting idle. Across from me, Eirlys frowned, her composure cracking ever so slightly into something colder, sharper.

She didn’t speak, but her disapproval filled the air like static, a quiet judgment heavier than words.

She knew for a fact that I was a motherfucking bullshit artist.

And there I sat, with Hailie giggling, Eirlys frowning, and me chewing on the bitter taste of guilt that I refused to swallow.