Chapter 68: DAD


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    I jolted awake with my heart clenched. My Vegas hotel suite came into view—the curved TV on the wall, the modern furniture, the fish tank bubbling quietly in the corner. Sweat soaked through my silk sheets.


    My hands trembled as I scanned the room. Everything was exactly as I remembered it before... before, whatever that was. The morning sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the plush carpet.


    "No way," I whispered, throwing off the covers and stumbling out of bed. I rushed to where I''d left my hoodie draped over a chair.


    My fingers frantically searched the pockets until they closed around it—the black poker chip. I pulled it out, holding my breath.


    It looked different now—just a plain black chip without a symbol. There was no pulsing, no strange energy, just cheap plastic.


    I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. The screen lit up with a flood of notifications:


    "@EmberLynnPoker crushed it again at Golden Nugget!"


    "When''s your next book signing?"


    "Ember Lynn spotted with her boyfriend?"


    Everything was normal. Back to how it should be. My old life, my real life.


    My legs gave out, and I sank into the nearest chair, relief washing over me in waves. The good old Vegas skyline stretched beyond my window—no floating black pyramids, magical portals, or signs of interdimensional faction wars.


    My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn''t eaten a complete meal in... how long? The timeline felt fuzzy in my head.


    I reached for the room service menu on the desk. After everything I''d been through, a proper breakfast sounded terrific.


    * * *


    I leaned back in my chair, patting my very full stomach. Breakfast was demolished, with empty plates scattered across the table like a beautiful disaster. Those bread rolls, though—pure heaven. The herb and garlic butter had melted perfectly into each warm, fluffy bite.


    "Hello? Room service?" I picked up the phone. "Could I get another order of those amazing rolls?"


    Ten minutes later, I polished off three more, feeling absolutely stuffed but completely satisfied.


    I ran a luxurious bath, watching the steam rise from the surface as hot water filled the massive tub. Sinking into the warmth, I caught my reflection in the mirrored wall and froze.


    My body... it was different. Gone were the lean muscles from endless training. Instead, the softer curves from too many late nights at the poker table and the slight double chin were back. My vision wasn''t as sharp either.


    Once again, I was back to being regular old Ember Lynn, the retired poker player on Instagram with an out-of-shape body and questionable eating habits.


    I stood abruptly, water cascading off me as I grabbed a towel. There was no way I was going back to that lifestyle. If I could survive becoming a Ninja-for-hire and master Zii-Kata, I had no excuse for skipping a regular gym routine.


    "Time to make some changes," I muttered, wrapping the towel around myself and marching to my closet for workout clothes.


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    * * *


    I eased back into the Jacuzzi tub, wincing as the jets hit my sore muscles. That workout had kicked my ass—I''d gone way too hard trying to match my old training intensity. But compared to Sora''s brutal regimen? It was nothing.


    After soaking for a while, I wrapped myself in the hotel''s plush robe and threw a few shadow punches in front of the mirror. My movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, as if my body had completely forgotten everything I''d learned. Gone was the fluid grace of a trained Ninja.


    "Well, this is embarrassing," I chuckled, dropping my hands.


    I grabbed my phone and snapped a few mirror selfies, captioning them about getting back into shape and returning to my karate roots. Within minutes, the notifications started rolling in.


    "You got this girl!"


    "About time you hit the gym!"


    "Looking forward to seeing your progress!"


    "LOL stick to poker."


    "Another THOT''s fitness journey."


    I rolled my eyes. After everything I''d been through, trolls meant nothing.


    My phone buzzed with a text from Rocky.


    "Call me ASAP"


    I hit the call button.


    "Hey Em, you up?" Rocky''s familiar voice came through.


    "Oh my god, Rocky!" I burst into tears. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice."


    "Um, okay? Nice to hear your voice… too?"


    "We gotta catch up!"


    "Like between now and last night? Are you okay?"


    "Obviously," I gathered myself. "Um, yeah. What''s going on?"


    "Got a surprise for you in the lobby. Can we come up?"


    "Sure," I said, hanging up before I realized he''d said "we."


    * * *


    I opened the door, still adjusting my robe, and froze. Standing beside Rocky was my adoptive dad—the man I''d abandoned in Tokyo five years ago. My legs went weak.


    "Dad?"


    The tears came instantly as I flung myself forward, wrapping my arms around him. His familiar scent of green tea and sandalwood brought back a flood of memories. He stiffened in surprise at my reaction, clearly not expecting such an emotional welcome.


    "I''m so sorry," I sobbed into his shoulder. "I''m so, so sorry for everything."


    His arms slowly came around me, patting my back awkwardly like he used to when I was younger. I pulled back, wiping my eyes, and turned to Rocky.


    "How... how is he here?"


    Rocky shifted his weight, looking pleased but nervous.


    "We''ve been planning this for months. I just... didn''t know how to tell you. Figured you might try to talk yourself out of it if we gave you a warning. So surprise seemed best."


    Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks as I grabbed Rocky into a fierce hug.


    "Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you so much."


    * * *


    Rocky played back the video he''d just taken with my phone—my tearful reunion with my dad captured in shaky footage. With trembling fingers, I typed a heartfelt caption about second chances and family before hitting the share button.


    We settled onto the suite''s plush couch. My dad perched politely on the edge while Rocky sprawled in a nearby armchair. My father''s English had improved since I''d last seen him, though he still spoke deliberately, choosing each word carefully.


    "Your mother still tends the garden—many new flowers this year." He smiled softly. "She misses you at the tea ceremony each morning."


    "How... how is she?" My chest tightened with guilt.


    "Better now. The first year after you leave is very difficult. But she understand more now. Young people must find own path."


    My phone buzzed repeatedly on the coffee table as notifications flooded in from my post. I tried to focus on my father''s words about the family restaurant and my younger cousin''s college plans, but my eyes kept darting to the screen as it lit up again and again.


    Finally, I couldn''t resist checking. Most comments were supportive—hearts, crying emojis, and messages about the beauty of reconciliation.


    Something felt off. I stared at Rocky, lounging casually in the chair, his posture… too relaxed and calculated? The Rocky I knew would never orchestrate something this significant behind my back, right? He was direct and honest—the one person in my world without hidden agendas.


    My heart rate quickened as I glanced between him and my father. The suite''s walls seemed to vibrate ever so slightly.


    "This isn''t right," I muttered, standing up abruptly. "The real Rocky would have told me directly. You wouldn''t… he wouldn''t…"


    "Ember-chan?" My father''s concerned expression looked too perfect, too staged. "Are you feeling well?"


    Rocky leaned forward, his movements fluid.


    "Em, what''s wrong? I thought you''d be happy—"


    "Stop." I backed away from them both. "This isn''t real. None of this is real."


    My phone buzzed again. With shaky hands, I clicked the most recent notification.


    Kll*th wants to send you a message.


    0 followers, 0 posts


    [Accept] [Delete] [Block]


    My chest constricted as panic clawed its way up my throat. The room spun sideways as my breathing became erratic. I pressed my back against the wall.


    "Ember, you''re scaring us," Rocky said, rising from his chair.


    "Stay back!" I shouted. "You''re not Rocky. This isn''t Vegas. I never left the Crucible, did I?"


    I stared at the room service table, my breath catching. The silver dome cover was perfectly centered, steam still rising from beneath it. With shaking hands, I lifted the lid.


    Fresh bread rolls nestled in the cloth-lined basket, golden brown and glistening as if just out of the oven.


    "But I ate these," I whispered.