I sat with Milli beside me as Edward spoke, his voice smooth and measured, the tone of someone accustomed to commanding attention. His words were carefully chosen, each one tactfully articulating how he and his men could assist us.


    “My men and I have been helping numerous parties clear quests and level up,” he began, his tone genial. “We’ve earned ourselves no small amount of trust within this little community, and I’m willing to call in those favours to assist you.”


    Milli’s hands were balled into fists, gripping the fabric of her pants tightly. I patted her hand in a gesture of reassurance before locking eyes with Edward. Despite the friendly smile plastered on his face, his icy demeanour betrayed his advantage. He was flaunting it, and we both knew it.


    “Why would you want to help us?” I asked curtly, refusing to let him see my unease.


    “Ryan, you wound me,” Edward said with a mock expression of hurt. “I told you before—I’ve wanted to work with you the first time we met. We need to stick together if we’re going to survive here, especially with how quickly the difficulty has been ramping up.”


    I clenched my jaw, feeling the weight of his veiled insinuation. Louis had explained that the monsters in the surrounding area would scale in strength to match the players’ levels, and Edward and his men were undoubtedly accelerating the process. Yet I couldn’t call him out on it—he was helping people, after all, and the monsters would grow stronger eventually.


    “How many people can you bring to the table?” I asked, keeping my tone even. I couldn’t afford to show him even a flicker of desperation.


    “Well,” he said, leaning back slightly, “I’d have to ask around. It’s not like I can just snap my fingers and conjure an army at my beck and call.” His smile faltered for the briefest of moments, and I caught a flicker of something cold in his eyes before it vanished. “But realistically, I could rally forty or so. Plus the twenty men directly under my command.”


    “That’s not going to be enough,” I replied, doing my best to mask my astonishment.


    Edward’s smile widened slightly. “Of course. But my men would also work to drum up additional support. I am curious, however—what’s the game plan once you do get the numbers?” He tilted his head, the question landing like a punch to the gut. “I hope you’re not planning to just march them straight to the front door?”


    I cleared my throat, scrambling for a response. “We’re working on something,” I lied, feeling the sweat start to gather on my palms.


    “Of course you are,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise.” He began pacing slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. “But tell me—have either of you ever led a group of that size before?”


    I didn’t answer. His words struck a chord too close to the truth.


    “I have,” he continued smoothly. “My men and I have been through countless missions together. Each one is a capable tactician and fighter, able to make split-second decisions under pressure. Without proper leadership and guidance, you’ll be walking straight into a slaughter.” He stopped and fixed his attention on me. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that, Ryan.”


    As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Our fight with the troll had laid bare how unprepared we were for high-level coordination. Even with our small party, staying calm under pressure had been a challenge.


    Before I could formulate a response, the door opened behind us. Sharla stepped in, pinching the bridge of her nose and looking like she’d just come from a difficult conversation. Her expression shifted the moment she saw Edward.


    The air between them thickened with palpable tension. She didn’t speak, but her body language screamed hostility. She shifted her weight, adopting a subtle but unmistakable fighting stance. Though she and Milli had never met Edward, I’d described him in enough detail that they both knew who he was on sight.


    Edward sensed the shift instantly. “I’ll let you talk it over,” he said, the same calm, measured tone masking the potential powder keg. “I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.”


    He walked past Sharla, holding her gaze impassively as he exited. She didn’t move or say a word until the door clicked shut behind him.


    "What the hell was he doing here?” Sharla said, whirling around to Milli and me. Her voice was sharp, her body still tense from Edward’s presence.


    Milli was the one to answer. “He saw the quest and offered to help,” she said quietly, sinking into the couch. “He’s got a lot of pull with the parties his men have been helping.”


    Sharla clenched and unclenched her jaw, her teeth grinding audibly as she processed the information. She stayed frozen near the entrance, a storm brewing behind her eyes.


    “He also raised some good points about coordinating the raid,” Milli added, her tone pragmatic but weary. “I think we might need to work with him.”


    I stood up, staring at her like she’d just suggested inviting a serial killer to dinner. “Are you serious?” I demanded.


    Milli curled into a ball, pulling her knees to her chest as she met my eyes. “Don’t look at me like that! I don’t want to work with him any more than you do. But if you haven’t been paying attention, we’re not exactly making progress,” she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface.


    Sharla’s expression softened, and her shoulders sagged as she let out a long breath. She walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder, her grip firm but reassuring. “It’s only been a day. We’ve got time,” she said, looking me in the eye. “But we need to consider our options. Like it or not, we’re all in the same boat. I doubt he’d risk his chance to get out of here over some revenge scheme.”


    I sighed heavily and sat down at the kitchen counter, running my hands through my hair. Sharla continued, her voice steady but measured. “Let’s be honest—if he wanted you dead, he wouldn’t have let you go. I’m not saying we roll out the red carpet for him, but we can’t afford to dismiss him outright.”


    She was right, and I hated it. Edward wasn’t someone I wanted anywhere near us, but the thought of organising a raid without proper leadership—or numbers—felt like an impossible task. I leaned back, staring at the ceiling as the tension in the room hung heavy.


    It was late by the time we wrapped up the conversation, and it was clear that we all needed rest. Sharla and I made a token effort to train, but our hearts weren’t in it. Afterwards, we ate a quick meal from the fridge in silence before retreating to our rooms.


    The moment the door clicked shut behind me, I pulled the amulet out from under my shirt. My fingers trembled slightly as I examined it, searching for any obvious way to activate it. There were no buttons, no switches—just the smooth, red, glittering gem that felt deceptively mundane.


    I pulled up my inventory and highlighted the item. A tooltip appeared, and my heart skipped a beat.


    <hr>


    Samantha’s Kiss


    1 charge


    <ul>


    <li>Activate</li>


    </ul>


    <hr>


    Without hesitation, I slammed the “Activate” button. The sensation consumed me immediately. I fell back onto my bed as pure bliss coursed through me, waves of ecstasy so intense that I could hardly breathe. My eyes rolled back in my skull, and I let out shaky, enraptured breaths.


    When the effect ended, it left me drained but unsatisfied, the craving gnawing at me with renewed ferocity. The experience was incredible, but it lacked the overwhelming punch of the first time. I sat at the edge of my bed, letting the world come back into focus, when the familiar buzz of a message pulled me from my daze.


    <hr>


    Hoarthin:


    You put on quite the show in my place of business. You clearly have talent, and I’d like to offer you a chance to work out your frustrations on some willing opponents. If you’re interested, come to the Poison. The offer stays open as long as you’re in town, so no need to rush. Think about it.


    <hr>


    I let out a bitter laugh as I closed the message. There was no way I was going to take them up on that. For all I knew, it was a trap to get me jumped by those guys from the other night. I shook my head and began my nightly exercises, hoping the physical strain would drown out the cravings clawing at the back of my mind.


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Then another notification appeared.


    Samantha’s voice filled my mind, her honeyed tone both alluring and mocking.


    <hr>


    New Quest:


    King of the Ring


    Description:


    Ooooh, that sounds like fun! I would just love to see you perform with all those sweaty men. You are to accept the offer and become the crowned champion of the fighting pits.


    Reward:


    For every match you win, I’ll give you one personalised message.


    <hr>


    I stared at the screen, my stomach twisting into knots. Fuck.


    The realisation settled over me like a lead weight—Samantha wasn’t just idlily toying with me anymore. She was invested, and I wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse.


    The quest had answered my question, though: the offer wasn’t a trap—or at least she didn’t think so. I was thankful Samantha had moved on from outright threatening me, but the implication of the reward was clear. If I wanted more of my fix, I’d have to be her “good little boy” and play along. The thought gnawed at me as I exercised, every movement feeling like a battle between my pride and my dependency.


    I mulled over how I could possibly approach the subject with the girls, but every time I imagined their faces, disappointment etched deep into their features, fear gripped me. What if they took the amulet from me and forced me to go cold turkey? I wasn’t ready to face that.


    Exhausted, I fell asleep almost instantly when my head hit the pillow. My mind swirled, and I found myself in Samantha’s lap again, her fingers tracing patterns across my scalp. What had once been a sweet dream had turned into a tense nightmare. I woke up in a cold sweat, my heart pounding.


    It was the middle of the night. Sleep wasn’t going to come back easily, so I got up and wandered into the common room. Sharla was on the couch, a half-empty bottle in her hand. My stomach sank. Not again.


    I walked over tentatively. “Hey buddy, how you doing?” I asked, keeping my tone light and careful. She turned to look at me, her expression a mix of confusion and indignation at my sing-song greeting.


    “Uh… yeah, I’m fine. What about you? You look like shit.” She took another swig from the bottle before holding it out toward me. “Want some?”


    Her voice had a slight slur, but she was far more composed than the last time I’d seen her like this.


    “I’m good. Just having a bit of trouble sleeping,” I said, waving off the offer as I walked over to the couch. My face must have betrayed the weight of my thoughts, because her eyes lingered on me for a moment.


    “Yeah, seems like that’s going around.” She nodded toward Milli’s door, where a line of light spilled from the crack at the bottom.


    I stepped over the back of the couch and dropped down beside her, taking the bottle from her hands. I took a swig, the liquid burning its way down my throat. I sucked in a breath, grimacing. “You sure you’re alright?” I asked, handing the bottle back.


    She hesitated, then sighed. “Yeah... It’s just Josh,” she admitted, looking down at the bottle in her hands.


    “What about him? Trouble in paradise?” I teased, nudging her arm with a grin.


    “Oh, screw you.” She pushed me lightly, though her lips curled into a faint smile. “No, it’s not like that. Not for me, anyway. I... led him on. I didn’t mean to.” Her voice dropped, and she avoided looking at me. “After the troll fight, we got to talking, and I kissed him. I don’t know what I was thinking. He’s a nice guy and all, but... Let’s just say I’ve had my fill of relationships.” Her fingers absently brushed over her ring finger.


    “Ooo, dang. Didn’t realise he was into old people,” I said with mock innocence.


    “You’re such a dick sometimes, you know that?” She laughed despite herself and leaned her head on my shoulder.


    We sat there for a moment, the air between us lighter now, though tinged with unspoken thoughts. Eventually, she straightened up, her face contemplative. “I’ve got enough to worry about without dealing with a relationship on top of it all.” She gestured broadly with the bottle, the liquid sloshing audibly. “Everything we’re doing—everything we’re trying to do—I can’t add that to the pile.”


    Sharla took one last long pull from the bottle and set it on the table with a loud ‘CLACK’. Stretching her arms over her head, she stood and yawned. “I’m gonna try and get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.” She stumbled slightly as she made her way to her room, her steps slower and heavier than usual.


    “Hey,” I said, turning around before she reached her door, “I’m gonna go for a walk. Clear my head.”


    Sharla stopped and turned back to me, narrowing her eyes. “I’d like to remind you that I could break your leg, heal you, and break it again. Don’t think I won’t.” She punctuated her threat with a hand gesture: two fingers pointed at her eyes, then at me.


    I laughed nervously, holding my hands up in surrender. “I’m staying inside the settlement. Promise.”


    Her stern expression softened into a tired smile, and she shook her head. “Don’t be an idiot,” she said, disappearing into her room.


    I hadn’t planned on visiting The Rogue’s Poison until tomorrow, but the promise of earning another charge for the amulet proved too tempting. Following my mini-map, I navigated the quiet streets to the bar. As I stepped inside, the pungent smell of stale alcohol and smoke hit me like a punch to the face. My eyes darted around the room, searching for the men I’d fought last time. Not seeing them, I allowed myself to relax—slightly.


    The bald bartender caught sight of me and, without a word, nodded toward a door at the back wall. I crossed the room, pushed it open, and stepped into a cramped, dimly lit space that reeked of tobacco smoke. It was more like a supply closet than an office, with a desk crammed against the far wall, leaving barely enough room for anyone to squeeze behind it.


    Seated in a chair on the other side of the desk was a dwarf. His black hair was tied into a long, sleek ponytail, and small glasses perched atop a nose that looked like it had been broken and re-broken countless times. Broad shoulders stretched his white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and suspenders cut across his thick chest. His hands, covered in thin silvery scars, rested on the desk, a testament to a life spent in hand-to-hand combat. A stub of a cigar burned in the corner of his mouth, sending thin wisps of smoke curling into the stagnant air.


    Most striking of all was his beard—lush and long, with countless small plaits adorned with golden rings. One central braid extended below the desk, the rings jingling faintly when he shifted.


    The dwarf glanced up from the paperwork in front of him, peering over his glasses. Then, with a dismissive grunt, he returned his attention to the page, his quill scratching across the parchment. I waited, feeling more awkward with each passing second, until I couldn’t take it anymore and cleared my throat.


    He raised a single finger, finishing his line before placing the quill back in the inkwell. Leaning back in his chair, he let out a long sigh, took a deep drag from his cigar, and exhaled a plume of smoke directly at me.


    “So,” he began, his voice a deep baritone that seemed to resonate in my chest, “you’re the one that wrecked shop the other night?” He paused, then smirked. “What a stupid question. Glen wouldn’t have let you in otherwise. So—did you come here to tell me to shove the offer up my hairy arse, or do I have a new fighter?”


    The amulet pressed against my chest coldly. I clenched my fists. “I’m here to fight.”


    “Wonderful!” he said, clapping his scarred hands together with surprising volume. “I’ll send you the details of your first match later. For now, stay out of trouble and get some rest. You look like shit.”


    Everyone is a fucking critic. I thought to myself.


    My heart sank. I’d been hoping for another charge immediately, but it seemed like I’d have to wait. “What? You had me come all the way down here just for that?”


    The dwarf stopped and looked up again, his smirk turning into a bark of laughter. “The way Glen talked about you, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Honestly? You look fresh off your mother’s tit.” He chuckled to himself, took another drag of his cigar, and waved me off dismissively. “Now fuck off. I’ve got work to do.”


    Before I could think of a retort, he was already back to his paperwork. With a frustrated sigh, I turned and left the office, the smoke-filled room still clinging to my clothes as I stepped back into the bar and then out the door into the alleyway.


    I wandered the settlement until the first rays of dawn painted the sky. Tired but oddly at peace, I headed back to the tavern. The warm smell of cooking hit me as soon as I opened the door to our apartment. Sharla was at the stove, working with a practiced efficiency. A full spread of food was already laid out: pancakes, fried eggs, sautéed vegetables, and thick slices of ham. My stomach growled loudly in anticipation.


    “Oh hey!” she called out, flipping a pancake onto a growing stack. “I was starting to get worried. You got back just in time.”


    “That smells incredible. What’s the occasion?” I asked, settling onto a stool at the counter.


    Sharla turned with a smile, the early light catching the edges of her features. “Honestly? I just needed an outlet. Thought I’d whip up something tasty for everyone, boost morale, you know?”


    She placed down plates already loaded with food, and I eagerly served myself a hefty portion. While I dug into my stack of pancakes, she walked over and knocked on Milli’s door.


    Milli emerged, looking like she’d crawled out of a wind tunnel. Her hair was a chaotic tangle, and her face was smeared with what looked like green grease. Sharla poured her a cup of coffee, and she clutched it with both hands, groaning like a zombie.


    “Up late?” I asked, pausing between bites.


    Milli groaned again, more emphatically this time. “Uggghhhhhh.” She slumped into a chair and took a gulp of coffee, her eyes half-lidded. “That annoying shit hasn’t shut up since I put the quest up. I get a notification every single time someone reads it. If I have to hear that prepubescent screecher one more time, I swear I’m gonna flip out.”


    Sharla and I exchanged confused looks. “What are you talking about?” Sharla asked, tilting her head.


    “The quest voice!” Milli exclaimed. “That troll—probably some rage-baiting loser living in his mom’s basement—is all I hear every time I get a quest notification!”


    Sharla’s brow furrowed. “Wait... I think we might have different voices for our quest notifications. What does your voice sound like, Ryan?”


    I froze mid-sip of coffee, and the question hit me like a slap. The sudden coughing fit that followed sent a spray of egg and coffee across the counter.


    “Dude! Gross!” Sharla exclaimed, stepping back to avoid the mess. “You’re lucky you didn’t get any on my plate.”


    “Sorry,” I croaked, reaching for a napkin. “Wrong hole…”


    Sharla handed me a towel as I cleaned up the mess. “Well?” she pressed. “What does your quest voice sound like?”


    I avoided her stare, still dabbing at the counter. “Uh… you know, just… some lady, she sounds nice enough I guess” I said, hoping to sound nonchalant. My heart pounded as I spoke.


    Milli perked up at that, her curiosity sharpening like a knife. “Ooooh la la,” she teased, shimmying her shoulders dramatically. “You got a sexy voice, huh?”


    I felt the colour drain from my face as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. A part of me warned against saying anything disparaging against that psycho. “Heh, yeah… I guess I got lucky,” I said, forcing a weak laugh.


    “I’m gonna go crash, long night” I blurted, desperate for an escape. I stood, leaving my plate half-full. “Sharla, mind if we go out again today? I want to work on my spear skills some more.”


    Before Sharla could respond, Milli whipped around to her. “Wait—did you two go out without me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.


    That was my cue. While Sharla scrambled to answer, I slipped away to my room, closing the door behind me with a relieved sigh.