"You know you’re my favourite, right?" she murmured, tracing her long, pointed nails over my lips. Her touch was gentle yet possessive, each stroke leaving a phantom tingle behind. "But you’re taking too long. You need to push harder, my dear. You don’t want me getting bored and finding a new plaything to be my favourite toy, do you?"
The question sent an icy surge of fear through me. I tried to sit up, to speak, to reassure her that I would do anything to stay in her favour, but my body betrayed me. I was paralysed, my lips refusing to move. Panic clawed at my mind.
"Maybe I’m putting too much faith in you," she said, her voice growing colder. The soft caress of her fingers turned into an iron grip, her nails digging into my skin. The pain was vivid and real, jolting me as if to prove I wasn’t dreaming this. "Don’t disappoint me. I have many ways to entertain myself with my toys."
I woke with a start, shooting upright in bed. My clothes and pillow were soaked with sweat. My skin still burned where her nails had pressed into me, though I knew it was just my mind playing tricks. I ran a trembling hand through my hair, my breath coming in shallow gasps.
The voice. That damn voice. It had been narrating every quest we’d taken, but over time, its presence had become less about the information and more about the sound. I craved it. Worse, I feared disappointing it—her. Somewhere along the way, that disembodied voice had taken on a life of its own in my head.
It was absurd. I knew that. She wasn’t real, just a pleasant creation of the system to deliver notifications. And yet, the obsession had rooted itself deep. I kept hoping it would fade, but instead, it only grew stronger.
I walked out into the common room, trying to shake off the lingering weight of the dream. Sharla was performing an impressive yoga pose, one leg extended high into the air while she balanced gracefully on the other. Her arm stretched out, steady as a tree branch. Beyond her, I noticed a cracked tile on the floor, and it reminded me of something I’d forgotten.
“Aw, shit,” I muttered. “Do you know what happened to Josh’s warhammer? He gave it to me when I was blackout drunk the other night.”
Sharla straightened up and turned to face me, her hands pressed together in a prayer gesture.
“Yes, I know what happened to it,” she said calmly. “Don’t worry. I messaged him yesterday. He told me to keep it. Said he’s camping out at the guild until he can find another class.”
“No way! Why haven’t you been using it?” I asked, hopping over the back of the couch.
“Because, Ryan,” she said, cocking her hip to one side and planting a hand on it, “I’ve never used a warhammer before. I want to get some practice in before I go into battle with it.”
“Fair enough. Where’s Milli?” I asked, glancing around.
“She was up early, off looking for crafting materials,” Sharla replied.
After finishing the quest yesterday, we’d finally cleared the guild debt, with two days to spare. I felt better than I had in ages. I had friends, no debt hanging over my head, and a growing sense of confidence. I opened the guild leader tab and saw the number: 650 Crowns in the treasury. A grin spread across my face.
Before I could savour the moment, Sharla interrupted. “Get up. We’re training.”
We cleared space in the common room and got to work. Sharla drilled me relentlessly on technique, correcting my form with sharp, insightful feedback. By the time we were done, I was drenched in sweat and leaning heavily on my pole.
Catching my reflection in the apartment’s glass windows, I did a double take. I had taken off my hoodie to keep from overheating, and for the first time in a while, I got a good look at myself. I almost didn’t recognize the guy staring back at me.
In just a week, the combination of fighting, training, and a strict diet of ration packs and tavern meals had transformed me. I had lost all my body fat, leaving me lean and toned. I wasn’t muscular by any stretch—my chest was still shallow, and my abs were more "flat" than "washboard"—but I was in the best shape of my life.
Sharla saw me gazing at my reflection in the window and threw my hoodie at me. “Holy shit, put a shirt on, dude. You’re making me uncomfortable. You look like you’re about to make out with your reflection,” she chuckled.
I caught the hoodie mid-air and pulled it on, a familiar sense of embarrassment creeping in. I laughed awkwardly to mask it and mumbled something about needing a shower as I headed to my room.
Once inside, I stripped off the torn and battered clothes and stepped into the shower. The warm water cascading over me was a welcome relief after the morning’s training. As I stood there, I opened the notification I’d been saving. The smooth, velvety voice purred in my mind, wrapping around me like a warm blanket.
Quest complete!
Pay Your Dues
Description:
My, my, my. You actually finished this one. I’m so proud of you! I knew you’d go out and bring home those big bucks. Now all you have left to do is repeat this over and over and over again until you die. But don’t feel disheartened, love—let the knowledge that you’re shaping up to be one of my favourite toys carry you through.
Reward:
No reward sorry honey.
Her voice sent a shiver down my spine, especially when she said the words "favourite toy." I hung on every syllable, feeling a thrill that I couldn’t explain—or ignore. The shower water ran over my back as I closed my eyes and replayed the notification in my head. I stayed there longer than necessary, letting the soothing combination of hot water and her intoxicating voice calm me.
When I got out, I noticed just how bad my clothes had gotten. My hoodie was missing a sleeve and had a huge tear down the back, while my slacks were frayed at the cuffs and dotted with holes. I needed new gear. Deciding to use some of my recently earned Crowns, I resolved to go shopping and check out the street food I’d been eying since my arrival.
I stepped out of my room, now dressed and freshly clean. Sharla was curled up on the couch with a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, looking more relaxed than I’d seen her in days.
“I’m heading out to do some shopping,” I said. “Should be back before midday.”
“Okay,” she replied, glancing up briefly. “Ping me if anything happens.” She snuggled deeper into the couch, already absorbed back in her book.
I withdrew 500 Crowns from the guild treasury and made my way downstairs. The tavern was bustling, as it always seemed to be. I waved to Josh, and Andrew, who were still trying to coax Fiona into stepping outside. From the look on her face, they weren’t having much luck.
Stepping onto the cobblestone streets, I inhaled deeply. The mingling smells of animals, sizzling food, and even the occasional whiff of iron from dried blood had become oddly comforting. I strolled toward a food stall that sold some tantalizing flatbread wraps I’d been eyeing for days.
The stall was run by a stout woman with a spectacular moustache, who greeted me with a warm, hearty voice. I ordered the largest wrap on the menu, surprised at how affordable it was—just half a crown. The smell was incredible, a savoury blend of spices and roasted meat. I couldn’t identify everything inside, but I didn’t care. When I took the first bite, the flavours burst in my mouth: juicy, spiced meat paired with fresh, crisp vegetables and tangy sauces. It was everything I’d hoped for.
Chewing happily, I wandered toward a nearby community board. While I had no intention of taking on any new quests without consulting Sharla and Milli, I wanted to scout some options for later.
The board, as usual, was surrounded by a chaotic cluster of adventurers jostling for position. I joined the disorganised queue, slowly edging my way forward as I finished my wrap. After a few minutes of impatient shoving, I reached the board and started scanning it.
As expected, the board was mostly filled with patrol quests. Goblins and wolves dominated the lower-tier options, while the higher-paying quests included clearing ogre camps or patrolling deeper into the surrounding forests. Collection quests were slim pickings, and the good ones had clearly been snatched up early. The only remaining options involved harvesting lake-dwelling insects—a task I suspected everyone was avoiding because of the shadowy creature we’d encountered there.
After about ten minutes, the people around me began jeering, telling me to move along and make room for someone who actually planned to take a quest. I raised my hands in a gesture of surrender and stepped away, feeling their glares on my back. As I wandered down the street, a notification appeared in my interface. I opened it absentmindedly, and my heart skipped a beat as the message played in that familiar, irresistible voice
New Quest:
Don't Be a Tease
Description:
You’re not going to leave me hanging like that, are you? I thought we had a good thing going after you finished that last quest early. What, are you getting sick of me already? You know what to do to make me happy—go get a quest and complete it before the day is over. I’ll make it worth your while.
Reward:
1 personalised message from Samantha.
My mind raced. My heart pounded, and a cold sweat broke out across my back. "Samantha? Was that her real name? Was she an actual person? Could she see me? Hear me?" My stomach was a churning mess of excitement, anxiety, and adrenaline. I had to find a way to complete this quest. Now.
But how could I explain my sudden change of plans to the girls? I couldn’t tell them the truth. The thought of admitting that I was doing this for the chance to hear the voice again mortified me. No, I couldn’t involve them—I needed to do this alone.
Turning on my heel, I walked briskly back to the community board.
I scanned the quests with frantic energy, seeking something simple, something quick, something I could handle on my own. My eyes landed on a quest to slay three goblins. Perfect. The patrol quests auto-adjusted their difficulty based on the number of participants and their relative strength, so I knew I should be able to handle it alone.
I sent a quick message to Sharla.
Ryan:
Hey, I’m going to spend the day exploring the town. I’ll catch up with you later!
With my cover story secured, I headed out through the eastern gate. My plan was to use a modified version of Milli’s “Siren Song” tactic. I’d lure the goblins in using my Goblin Speech skill, then ambush them. This time, though, I’d set a trap using a rope and one of the highlighted branches my Flaw Finder skill identified.
The idea was to drop the branch on the first goblin, then blind the second one with one of the glowing coprolites—what Milli had insisted we call the dung-stones. If everything went perfectly, I could take them down quickly without sustaining any injuries. It was risky, sure, but I was confident I could handle it.
The forest was eerily quiet as I crouched in the undergrowth, waiting for my prey. Time ticked by. After about fifteen minutes, a group of four goblins came into view. My pulse quickened, but I stayed put. Four was too many—I let them pass.
Another twenty minutes crept by. I began questioning the wisdom of my plan. Was I being reckless? Maybe I should message Sharla and Milli. I could tell them I wanted to get some extra training in. They’d believe me—I’d been vocal about wanting to level up.
Before I could overthink myself into retreat, the sound of light footfalls broke the silence. My breath caught as two goblins ambled into view.
I swallowed my fear, pushed the nagging voice of doubt deep into the back of my mind, and focused on the task at hand.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
This was my moment.
“This is too much loot for one goblin to carry! I wish I had some help!” I shouted in Goblin Speech. The words echoed into the woods, catching the attention of the pair I had let pass earlier. They stopped, turned to look at each other, and grinned—a grotesque display of crooked, mismatched teeth. They began making their way back toward me, greed practically dripping from their movements.
I tightened the rope around my hand, heart pounding as they approached the glowing coprolite I’d marked as the trap zone. The two goblins stared at the glowing lump curiously, muttering to one another in their guttural language.
Perfect.
They stood directly under the branch I’d rigged. My luck couldn’t have been better. I yanked the rope hard, and the trap sprang into action.
The branch let out a deafening ‘CRACK’ as it fell, the heavy wood smashing down on both goblins. One was impaled, sharp splinters piercing its torso and pinning it to the forest floor. It thrashed weakly, clawing at the branch in vain before it finally stilled, its grotesque form going limp.
The second goblin fared slightly better. It caught a glancing blow to the head, the impact sending it sprawling into the dirt. The branch collided with the coprolite, sending a cloud of shimmering dust into the air. I waited for a moment, watching the creature’s motionless form cautiously.
The quest log had only marked one of them as defeated.
Gripping my staff tightly, I approached the downed goblin. My breaths were shallow, the sour tang of adrenaline sharp on my tongue. With a few overhead strikes, I brought the staff crashing down onto its skull. The creature’s head gave way with a sickening ‘CRUNCH’, spilling its contents across the leaf-litter.
Bile rose in my throat at the sight, but I forced it down.
I crouched down and began untying the rope. The knot had sunk into the dirt, and I was struggling to loosen it when I heard it—a soft ‘snap’ of a twig behind me.
I spun around just in time to see another goblin leaping toward me, screeching wildly.
This is why we don’t go out alone, the annoying little voice of reason in my head chimed in as the creature barrelled into me.
Its bony arms wrapped around my neck in a chokehold, its oily skin sticking to mine as it bit into my shoulder. A fiery pain shot through me as its mismatched teeth tore into my flesh, sending jolts of agony down my arm and into my skull.
I screamed, throwing myself backward. We hit the ground hard, my head slamming into the goblin’s misshapen face. I felt its ribs crack under the impact, and its grip on me slackened.
Scrambling to my feet, I clutched my wounded shoulder. Blood oozed through my fingers, but the halo of red in my vision wasn’t as bad as I’d feared. The goblin wheezed painfully on the ground, trying to recover.
I didn’t give it the chance.
I kicked it—hard. Then again. And again. My boots connected with its frail body, over and over, until my quest log finally acknowledged its death. Only then did I stop, my breath ragged, chest heaving.
The pain in my shoulder ebbed as the faint red in my vision disappeared, and I stumbled back to my rope. Keeping my head on a swivel, I finished untying it and stashed it back into my inventory.
The town walls were visible in the distance. Relief washed over me as I started down the road. I’d done it. My quest was complete.
I let my mind wander as I walked, giddy with anticipation. Samantha. Was she real? The thought consumed me. What would her message say? Could it be more than just words this time?
My imagination painted vivid images of her—beautiful, mysterious, and entirely devoted to me. I knew it was foolish, but I couldn’t help myself.
I was so lost in my daydream that I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me.
The world went dark as a bag was thrown over my head.
Pain exploded in the back of my skull, and the metallic ‘twang’ of a weapon rang out as I collapsed. Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground, locking me in a rear naked choke.
I clawed at the arms holding me, desperate for air, but it was no use. My strength ebbed, the darkness growing heavier.
In seconds, I was unconscious.
When I came to, I felt cold and wet. The rhythmic sound of water dripping onto stone filled my ears, and I realised someone was pouring water over my head. My eyes fluttered open, struggling to adjust to the harsh light.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” said a terrifyingly familiar voice — it was Tim.
WHAM
A fist slammed into my jaw. Stars exploded across my vision, my teeth rattled, and my mouth filled with the coppery taste of blood.
He’s going to beat me to death for killing Oliver. The thought stabbed coldly.
My head sagged as my body swayed weakly in the chair; I wasn’t able to concentrate enough to send a message to Sharla. A strong hand gripped my chin, forcing my head back up, and a sharp slap started to bring me back to awareness.
“Oh no, no, no, don’t you go falling asleep on me again,” the voice said angrily.
Another splash of water shocked me fully awake. I blinked against the light and saw him—Tim. He was backlit by a bright, blinding source, casting the rest of the room into shadow. The murmur of voices surrounded me, and shadowy figures moved in the periphery. I tested my bonds, but my hands and legs were tied tightly to the chair.
Tim hunched down, his face level with mine, his breath hot and foul.
“I heard what you did to Oliver,” he growled.
WHOMP
His fist drove into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I gasped, my lungs desperate for air, but he didn’t give me a chance to recover.
“Now, I just wanted to kill you—”
WHAM
Another blow sent the chair teetering, threatening to topple over.
“He attacked us! I didn’t mean t—”
WHAM
The chair lifted off the ground and crashed back down as another punch rocked me. My head hit the floor hard, my vision swimming with red.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU WILL SPEAK WHEN I TELL YOU TO SPEAK!” Tim screamed, kicking me repeatedly in the stomach. Pain radiated through my body, and my consciousness began to slip away when a deep voice intervened.
“Hey, boss wants him alive. Don’t get carried away.”
I couldn’t see the speaker, my face pressed against the cold stone floor, my eye swollen shut and the world blurred by tears and blood. I felt something come loose in my mouth and I spat out a tooth
Rough hands lifted the chair upright, placing me back into a sitting position. I sobbed openly, my mind racing with every cliché interrogation scene I’d ever seen. This was it—the moment the boss walked in, said something ominous, and finished the job.
“Please don’t kill me,” I choked out, tears mixing with blood as they streamed down my face.
Tim and the other man walked away, their heavy boots echoing on the stone floor. A rhythmic knocking sound came from a wooden door, an unusual pattern that I couldn’t focus on through the haze of pain.
I noticed my quest log had updated—completed—and several unread messages were blinking in my interface. Desperately, I ignored them and sent out my own.
Ryan:
Guys, you have to help me. Tim nabbed me. I don’t know where I am. I think they’re going to kill me.
Before I could read Sharla’s response, footsteps approached.
“Please, please, please don’t kill me,” I begged, my voice trembling. “I don’t have much money, but you can have it!”
“What the fuck, Tim?” said a new voice—older, gruffer, and tinged with authority. “I told you to bring him to me, not beat him half to death.”
Relief and fear warred within me as the voice’s calm authority stilled the chaos in my mind.
“I am so sorry for my associate,” the man said, his tone apologetic but firm. I felt the cool lip of a glass bottle pressed to my mouth, and a thick, viscous liquid poured in. It tasted like overly sweet strawberry cough syrup, and as soon as it hit my tongue, a wave of warmth spread through me. The pain ebbed away, my swollen eye opened, and my wounds closed up. I sputtered, struggling to swallow the concoction.
“Oops, can’t lose this,” the man said casually, tucking my lost tooth into my pocket.
“What do you want from me? Are you going to kill me?” I asked, my voice breaking.
“What? Kill you? No, nothing so dramatic,” the man replied with a chuckle.
As my vision cleared, I saw him for the first time. He was older, his white-grey hair cropped short and neatly combed to the side. His dark tan skin was etched with deep lines that spoke of a hard life, but his steely blue eyes burned with an intense friendliness that was almost more unsettling than Tim’s brutality. His linen shirt and dark cloth pants were pristine, his polished leather boots shimmering faintly with copper and silver—clearly magical.
He signalled to someone standing behind me, and I felt the pressure on my arms and legs ease as they loosened my bindings. The moment I was free, I made a desperate attempt to bolt, but strong hands like steel vices shoved me back into the chair.
“Whoa there, sport,” Edward said with a disarming smoothness, his tone that of a concerned grandfather. “Let’s slow things down a bit, huh? I think we got off on the wrong foot.”
He leaned forward, extending a hand. “I’m Edward, but my buddies call me Ed for short.” His handshake was rough and firm, the kind that felt like it could crush bones if he wanted it to. “I already know your name, but I’m a firm believer in proper introductions. So tell me, what do your friends call you?”
“R-Ryan. My name’s Ryan,” I stammered, the strong hands on my shoulders keeping me firmly planted in my seat.
“Ryan! Pleasure to meet you.” He released my hand and sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other with casual authority. “I just wish it were under less... confrontational circumstances.”
He gestured broadly, his face a mix of regret and amusement. “First, let me apologise for the unpleasantness with my former friend Oliver. And for how Tim treated you. I can imagine you’ve got the wrong idea about our merry little band. You see,” he continued, intertwining his fingers in a deliberate, firm motion, “in our line of work, tensions can run high. People get wound up too tight—” he twirled his fingers in a winding motion before miming an explosion—“and sometimes they go off the reservation. But as I always tell my boys, there’s no excuse for losing control.”
His voice dropped into a soothing cadence as he leaned forward slightly, making his point. “I promise, Ryan, I’m going to have a little... chat with Tim. We’ll see if we can’t, ah, realign him.”
He punctuated the word realign with a steely look, and I swallowed hard.
“W-What is it, exactly? Your line of work, I mean?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling.
Edward didn’t answer right away, instead fixing me with an amused grin. Then, to my surprise, he erupted into a hearty, echoing laugh. The sound bounced off the walls, followed by a chorus of laughter from the shadowy figures around us.
“Sorry,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye. “If you’d asked me that a month ago, I’d have had to tell you it was classified. But I suppose none of that matters anymore.”
He leaned back, his smile widening. “I’m a Lieutenant Colonel in the Australian Military. The gentlemen you’ve been acquainted with? They’re my men. We were out in the bush, running a cross-unit war game, when those bastards plucked us up and sent us here.”
The moment I heard the military cadence in his voice, it clicked. His posture, his tone, his presence—it all screamed rank and command. My eyes met his, and I could tell he saw the recognition in mine.
“You know,” he said, leaning in slightly, “you remind me of my son. Did one of your parents serve?”
I hesitated, leaning back to put some distance between us. “My dad,” I admitted, my voice small. “He was in the army.”
“No kidding! What’s his name? Maybe I know him,” Edward said, flashing a toothy grin.
“Willson,” I lied smoothly. “Staff Sergeant.”
I leaned back further, trying to look casual but keeping my body tense. It was a name my parents had drilled into me to use in situations like this. My real last name, Nightingale, carried its own weight, especially on the base where my dad was head of military police. His rank of Captain had earned him few friends and many enemies among rowdy young soldiers.
“WILLSON!” Edward exclaimed, slapping his knee. “You’re pulling my leg! Your old man’s a legend back on base. The stories I could tell...” He chuckled, shaking his head.
I forced a laugh. “Yeah, he’s always been a bit of a troublemaker.”
“Don’t I know it!” Edward said, grinning. The iron grip on my shoulders loosened slightly, though the hands stayed where they were.
Edward leaned back, “Ryan, I want you to know—I don’t hold anything against you for what happened with Oliver. You were protecting your friends, and I get that.” gesturing around the room with a broad smile. “I’d do anything for my boys. Hell, I consider them family.”
A chorus of “AWWWW” rose up from the men surrounding us, their teasing tone at odds with the tension hanging in the air. I felt a cold drip of liquid run down my back—it might have been water, sweat, or blood. My mind was too clouded with fear and confusion to tell.
"It would mean the world to me if we could just call it water under the bridge," Edward said, his voice syrupy with false charm. "Let bygones be bygones, you know? And, if you find it in your heart, I’d love to work with you in the future. We’ve got to stick together, don’t we?” He clapped me on the shoulder, the weight of his hand heavy despite his smile.
I forced a smile of my own, my face stiff. "I appreciate that, and yeah, totally. Like it never happened."
"Wonderful!" Edward exclaimed, clapping his hands together with unsettling enthusiasm. "Now, I hope you understand—operational security is second nature to me, so we can’t have you knowing the location of our base. My anxiety couldn’t take it." He laughed as if he were sharing an inside joke only he found amusing. Then he nodded at the man behind me.
A black bag was unceremoniously pulled over my head, and I tensed as the hands holding me down shifted to guide me out. I was marched through a labyrinth of hallways, upstairs, and through tight spaces where I had to crouch, my back aching as the minutes dragged on. The air shifted abruptly, and I felt sunlight warm my skin.
We emerged into the forest, but the bag stayed over my head. They led me in a disorienting pattern—zigzagging, backtracking, and doubling back until I was hopelessly turned around. Finally, after what felt like forever, the bag was yanked off. I blinked rapidly against the sudden brightness, my vision swimming.
Two men stood in front of me, their faces obscured by bandannas and caps. One had a crude tattoo of a pin-up Marilyn Monroe on his tricep. They dropped my backpack and staff at the base of a tree, then silently melted back into the forest, leaving me standing alone.
I picked up my belongings and checked my inventory. Everything was intact, though my hands shook as I did so.
I pulled up the chat.
Milli:
I’ll shove my foot so far up his arse that if he has so much as a thought, it’ll have to sneak past my toe ring!
Sharla was calmer, peppering me with questions as she tried to piece together where I was.
Ryan:
I’m fine, guys. I’m just outside the eastern gate. I’ll be back in five minutes.
The settlement walls loomed in the fading light as I trudged forward, the crust of dried blood cracking on my face and neck with each movement. My muscles ached, and every step felt like it dragged on forever.
The moment I stepped through the gates, I saw Sharla round a corner. She spotted me, and her pace broke into a sprint. She threw her arms around me in a crushing hug, her breath shaky as she clung to me.
Behind her, Milli came barrelling forward, her lacrosse stick gripped tightly in her hands, her eyes darting around like a hawk. “Where are they?!” she barked, her voice a sharp contrast to Sharla’s trembling silence. “I’ll show them what happens when they mess with my guild mate!”
I tried to answer, but Sharla’s hug pressed my face into her chest, muffling my voice. She pulled back to hold me at arm’s length, her eyes scanning me with a motherly intensity.
“You’re missing a tooth,” she said, her tone clinical as she took stock of my injuries. “But you’re otherwise fine.” Then, without warning, she pulled me into another hug.
That did it. The dam broke, and I sobbed into her shoulder. Tears and snot mixed freely as I choked out, “Can we go home, please?”
Sharla tightened her hold briefly, then nodded. “Let’s go home.”
We walked back together, Sharla keeping me close as Milli swung her stick menacingly at anyone who dared approach. She muttered threats under her breath, her paranoia palpable. Sharla draped a blanket over me, but I shrugged it off, though I let her keep an arm wrapped protectively around my shoulders.
Inside the tavern, the familiar warmth of the Pit enveloped me, but my body remained tense until we reached the apartment. Once inside, Milli and Sharla bombarded me with questions. “What happened? Where did he grab you? What did he do to you?”
I waved them off. “I just need a shower,” I said hoarsely, my voice cracking.
I trudged to my room, the weight of the day hanging heavily on my shoulders. As the water ran over me, I felt the events of the past few hours crashing down like a wave. I’d been helpless—completely at the mercy of Tim and Edward’s whims. The thought of Edward’s saccharine smile sent a shiver down my spine.
I knew he wasn’t to be trusted. His charm was as thin as paper, barely covering the dangerous opportunist underneath. Something about him nagged at me, though.
I sat on the floor of the shower and let the water run over my back, it ran a brownish red as it washed away the grime and gore that was caked on my skin. I checked my notifications and saw that I had levelled up my quarterstaff mastery and my 'Hazard Hunter' skill. They each had information attached to them
Quarterstaff: Level 1
- 25% extra damage and attack speed
Hazard hunter: Level 1
- Targets are more susceptible to Hazard Hunter
Flaw Finder: Level 1
- Hazards are identified faster
I closed them and saw that I had received another item, my personalised message, I played it, her sweet voice was like a balm.
"Oh Ryan, you've been such a good boy..."