I woke up in a hospital bed, disoriented. The window beside me framed an inky-black night. My body felt wrong—foreign. There was no pain, but I could tell my ribs and arm were broken, and my face felt disturbingly… squishy. Beside the bed sat a small glass bottle filled with a thick, faintly glowing red liquid. My vision flickered with a notification.


    <hr>


    Quest Failed:


    King of the Ring


    Description:


    What the absolute fuck was that!? You lost your first real match. Not only that—he isn’t even the top fighter, and he threw you around like a ragdoll. You are a fucking embarrassment! You humiliated me! I need time to think about our relationship.


    Punishment:


    Samantha''s Kiss has been disabled for 48 hours. All charges have been confiscated.


    <hr>


    My heart sank. I hadn’t used the charge I earned earlier, saving it for after the match to avoid dealing with its side effects mid-fight. Now, it was gone. It had been almost 24 hours since my last fix, and the urges, which had been a constant itch, now burned like a wildfire. My heart pounded, and a clawing pressure pressed behind my eyes.


    “No! No, no, no, no!” I screamed, the rage burning through me like molten steel. “That’s not fair! I’ve done everything you’ve wanted! What the fuck do you expect from me, you psycho!?” My voice cracked with fury and despair as I punched my leg, only for my misshapen arm to give a sickening squish.


    Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision as the weight of it all crushed me. I hated her—hated Samantha more than Edward, more than Tim, more than I thought I could hate anyone. My chest heaved as sobs escaped me, and I barely noticed the nun rushing in.


    She saw my arm, now grotesquely misshapen, and hurried over to set it. Her healing spell worked quickly, but I stayed silent, seething with helpless fury. I thought about throwing the amulet away, but my fingers wouldn’t let go. Instead, I shoved it into my inventory, disgusted with myself.


    I stood and caught a glimpse of my reflection. My nose—no longer straight and narrow—was now flat and slightly crooked. Panic bubbled up, and I tried to fix it, managing only to adjust the angle. Gritting my teeth, I downed the healing potion from the bedside table, wincing as my bones knit back together and the swelling in my face subsided. Brief relief washed over me before the cravings clawed their way back into the front of my mind, stronger than ever.


    I left the hospital in a haze, the world around me a blur. Somehow, I made it back to the apartment without realizing I’d passed through the tavern below. I snapped back to reality only when Sharla shook me gently by the shoulder.


    “Ryan! Whoa, hey, there you are,” she said, her voice laced with concern. Her sharp eyes studied my face, checking my pupils.


    I stood there, trembling. “Sharla... I fucked up,” I whispered, my voice breaking.


    She woke Milli, and soon they were both sitting beside me on the couch. I expected anger, shouting, accusations—but none came. Instead, they listened. Milli pulled my head into her lap, stroking my hair as my emotions overwhelmed me and I broke down completely.


    Between sobs, I begged for their forgiveness over and over. They shushed me gently, their voices soft as they reassured me, promising that we’d figure it out together.


    When my tears dried and my energy was spent, they helped me sit up. They went straight into problem-solving mode.


    “We’ll need to keep you in the apartment if your symptoms get too bad,” Sharla said firmly. “If this starts to affect your ability to fight, I need you to be honest with me about how you’re feeling, okay?”


    I nodded weakly, unable to find my voice.


    Milli frowned, pacing the room with her hands on her hips. “I’m not sure staying here will work. If he doesn’t keep completing quests, that crazy bitch might hurt him—or worse. And what if the quest doesn’t clear if he stays in the settlement? We’ll need to experiment tomorrow.”


    “Why aren’t you two angry at me?” I asked softly, my voice hollow. I didn’t deserve their kindness. They needed to know it was my fault we faced the troll, and that I lied about why I went to the goblin camp. I deserved their anger, not their comfort.


    Sharla’s expression hardened for a moment. “Oh, I am angry at you,” she admitted. “But that’s not going to help anything right now. You were taken advantage of and hooked on fantasy heroin. I wish you’d told me when it happened.”


    Her face softened, and she sighed. “We’re going to get through this, Ryan. Together."


    I went to bed, but the potion’s lingering effects left me sleepless, trapped alone with my spiralling thoughts. A hateful voice in my head, whispered that I wouldn’t be able to make it through this. Desperate for distraction, I started exercising, pushing my body to its limit. The pain filled me with endorphins, drowning out the cravings just enough to stay sane.


    My body betrayed me—convulsing, heaving, until I vomited from the strain. Wiping my mouth, I cleaned up the mess and stumbled into the shower, flipping the water from scalding hot to ice cold, desperate for anything to out-compete the need clawing at my brain.


    Eventually, dawn arrived. Exhausted but unable to rest, I emerged from my room and began cooking breakfast for the girls, clinging to the routine like a lifeline. Anything to keep myself busy.


    When they joined me, I greeted them with forced cheer, vibrating with nervous energy.


    “Okay! For Milli, we’ve got porridge with sliced fruit and honey. For Sharla, eggs over easy with grilled onions and butter-fried mushrooms!” I announced, shovelling down a scalding cup of coffee as I moved to rearrange the furniture for training.


    Sharla stood and blocked me, her brow furrowed with concern. “Tell me what you are feeling, have the symptoms progressed?” She pressed a hand to my forehead and checked my pulse. “You’re burning up a bit. Have you felt like this for long?”


    “Oh, I just need to keep moving. It helps.” My words came fast, tumbling over each other as I grabbed the Multi-Tool. “I wanna start training the double-stick configuration, I think it will be way better for close quarters than my staff or spear.”


    “No.” Her voice was firm but gentle. “You need rest. If you don’t, your body could go into shock.”


    “Let me do this!” I snapped, my voice rising louder than I intended. The outburst hit me immediately, and I recoiled, ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell…”


    She gave me a hard look, her concern unwavering. “I know you didn’t, but please, listen to me. This withdrawal could get serious. I’m staying here with you today to keep an eye on things.”


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Reluctantly, I let her sit me down on the couch. She checked my vitals, then coaxed me into eating. I wasn’t hungry, but I realized it had been over twelve hours since my last meal. I forced myself to eat what she put in front of me but quickly threw it all back up. The failure added to my growing frustration, but before I could spiral, a notification dinged in my interface.


    <hr>


    Achievement:


    Junky


    Description:


    You’ve hit withdrawals. Bold move going cold turkey, but maybe not the smartest when trolls and ogres are in the mix. Did you really trust that goblin who said their crack was safe because it was “organically sourced”?


    Pro tip: that’s not something you just stop.


    Reward:


    <ul>


    <li>1 Can of Sprite</li>


    <li>1 Sachet of Cup-o-Chicken Noodle Soup</li>


    </ul>


    <hr>


    I let out a bitter laugh at the message, more from frustration than anything else. My body betrayed me, wracked with relentless shivers and cold sweats. The couch became my prison as I spent the day curled up, trembling and miserable. Throughout the day, several angry messages from Hoarthin popped up on my interface. I ignored them. Without any obligation to continue, I considered our relationship severed.


    True to her word, Sharla stayed by my side, refusing to leave me alone. Meanwhile, Milli went out with Josh, Andrew, and Fiona, escorting a group of players on a quest. She sent me the quest invite without telling the others. To my relief, the system counted their success toward my Plant One On Me quest, even though I wasn’t physically present.


    By evening, the worst of the symptoms had abated, but the cravings still present, their strength undiminished. In the rare lucid moments, Sharla and I talked about what to do with the amulet.


    “I think you should take it from me,” I said, my voice shaking but resolute.


    She shook her head firmly. “No. If you ignore Samantha, there’s no telling what could happen. I’ve heard of groups who failed too many guild quests and were just… transported away. None of them ever made it back to town.”


    I frowned. “I thought the worst they could do was expel you? That’s what they said in the induction lecture.”


    “That’s what I was told too,” she admitted, her expression clouded. “But judging by Samantha, it seems like the system can… go off-script sometimes.”


    I swallowed hard, nodding slowly. Getting free of the amulet away wasn’t going to be as simple as I had hoped. Then a thought struck me.


    "When I first put the amulet on, I got an achievement for equipping a cursed item. If I can find someone to remove the curse, I should be free of it, right?"


    Sharla tilted her head, considering. "That could work… but, Samantha might not take kindly to that."


    The logic seemed sound, though. If this world operated like a game, curses could usually be removed—right? I had subtly asked Milli about it before, but no players cursed by items had managed to remove them. Louis had been less than forthcoming, only saying that curses typically required a high-ranking church official, none of whom could be found in this region. Pressing him for more details had gotten me nowhere.


    "I’ll be careful," I said, determination pushing down my doubts. If there was even a sliver of hope, it was worth pursuing.


    I dozed off on the couch and didn’t stir until late the next morning. By the time I woke, Milli had already gone out, but Sharla had stayed behind, keeping watch over me like a hawk. In my restless, feverish sleep, I dreamed of the two of them arguing about what to do with me. Their voices in the dream were tense and worried, a jumble of sharp words and heavy silences that only added to my growing sense of unease.


    When I finally came to, my condition had noticeably improved. I could keep food down without fear of it coming back up, and the tremors that had wracked my body had vanished completely. But the cravings—they were still there, lurking just beneath the surface, tugging at the edges of my thoughts.


    After some persistent convincing, I managed to get Sharla to agree to let me join a quest. The walls of the apartment felt like they were closing in on me, and every minute spent cooped up made the frustration bubble higher. I needed to move, to fight—anything to regain some sense of control.


    We met Milli outside the gates, where she and Sharla exchanged knowing looks as they spoke in a private chat. We waited for another group to finish their preparations before setting out, but Edward approached us before we could leave. His posture was unusually formal, his usual playful demeanour subdued. Beside him stood his bodyguard, Mathews, his presence as imposing as ever, though now distinctly lopsided from his missing ear.


    "Ryan, may I have a word?" Edward asked smoothly.


    Sharla and Milli tried to interject, but I waved them off, reluctantly following Edward. We walked a short distance before he broke the silence, his charm reasserting itself.


    "I heard about your little… incident with Captain Mathews here," he said, his tone polite but with a sharp edge. "I just wanted to check in—make sure there are no hard feelings between you two."


    I hesitated, glancing at Mathews, who nodded impassively. "No, not on my end," I replied, truthfully. "Sorry about your ear."


    Mathews shrugged, extending his hand. "It happens," he said simply.


    I shook it cautiously, feeling his grip firm but not overly so. "Anything else?" I asked Edward, wanting to return to the girls. "My party’s waiting."


    "No, no, you’re free to go," Edward said, stepping aside. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "Oh, just one thing. Gotta say—I love the name."


    I froze. Blood drained from my face.


    "Nightingale," he continued, his voice light but deliberate. "It suits you. Hey, Mathews, wasn’t there a Captain Nightingale on base? Real hard-ass, if I remember right."


    "Sure was, boss," Mathews said calmly, his dark eyes fixed on me. "Head of the Military Police. Real piece of work."


    My pulse thundered in my ears, and my legs felt rooted to the spot.


    Edward chuckled. "Yeah, that’s right. Anyway, thanks for your time." He turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, heart pounding and mind racing.


    I returned to Sharla and Milli, recounting the conversation. They exchanged uneasy glances, but before we could dwell on it, the other party arrived and we set out.


    The quest itself was uneventful, though my encounter with Edward weighed heavily on me, sapping any fire I might have had. We stepped back, letting the other party handle the bulk of the work. To their credit, they performed admirably. They were a sign that the training and preparation had paid off, and despite the gruelling week they’d endured, their progress was undeniable.


    Each day brought more players into the ranks, swelling our numbers to nearly three hundred. Patrols now covered the settlement''s perimeter at all times, and a relay system had been established to distribute messages efficiently. The operation ran like a well-oiled machine, but the strain was palpable. Small fights and frayed nerves had become the norm as exhaustion took its toll.


    When our shift ended, we returned to the tavern and met up with Josh, Andrew, and Fiona. Over drinks, we finally filled them in on Edward’s past and the reasons for our unease.


    "That guy always gave me the creeps," Josh muttered, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.


    Milli made a strong case for fully integrating them into the guild, especially if they were going to stick around after the raid. Sharla, Milli, and I agreed, though we decided to keep my situation with Samantha under wraps for now.


    They assured us they wouldn’t breathe a word about Edward to anyone else. We couldn’t afford unnecessary drama derailing the raid. The gravity of the coming days loomed large, and we all turned in early. Tomorrow would be the final day before the attack, and no one was in the mood for games.


    In the back of my mind, I had been tracking the countdown to when I could use the amulet again. Only a few hours remained until my ban was lifted, and I hated how excited I was.


    I went into my room and sat on the edge of my bed, practically bouncing with anticipation. My heart raced as I opened my inventory, watching the timer tick down. I was on a hair trigger, mentally hovering over the "Activate" button, waiting for it to be usable again. Then, at last, a notification appeared.


    <hr>


    System Notification:


    Samantha''s Kiss has been re-activated, and all withheld charges have been restored.


    <hr>


    My excitement got the better of me, and in a frenzy of impatience, I slammed the button repeatedly. I hadn’t expected to get the withheld charges back, and I had never considered that multiple charges could be consumed for an amplified effect.


    I barely had time to process my mistake before it hit me. Three charges. I’d consumed three charges at once.


    Everything melted away. I ceased to be Ryan, ceased to be anything. The universe itself seemed to open up and swallow me whole. Sensation and thought dissolved into pure, overwhelming bliss—a cascade of euphoria so all-encompassing it felt like being unmade and remade in the span of a heartbeat. Time became meaningless, and I drifted off into an infinite, intoxicating void.


    The only thing anchoring me to existence was her voice. Samantha’s smooth, seductive tones wrapped around me like silk, seeping into every corner of my mind.


    "I''m so sorry for getting angry," she cooed, her words dripping with a sweetness that made my chest ache. "Promise me you''ll never do that to me again. You’re such a good boy, coming back to me like this. I was so afraid I’d lost you."


    Her voice lingered, filling me with a twisted mixture of relief and dread. I felt her presence as though she were right beside me, stroking my hair, her nails teasing my skin. In this moment of exquisite ecstasy, it was impossible to tell where I ended and she began.


    And for a fleeting, horrifying moment, I didn’t want to even imagine being apart from her.


    The moment before reality lost all meaning I noticed an achievement notification on my interface.