A blinding white light flooded the room from a fixture embedded in the ceiling, washing everything in a harsh, clinical glow.
The small cellar was padded almost entirely in sterile white cushions—walls, floor, even parts of the ceiling—leaving only small patches of exposed concrete. A toilet stood in one corner, a narrow bed in another, and beside it…
A fully operational VR station.
The contrast made Bao's stomach churn.
Cold bumps crept across his skin, crawling down his neck and along his arms. The room reminded him too much of the rehabilitation center—the same suffocating sterility, the same artificial safety.
Only this time…
Instead of removing VR, it forced it upon him.
His head throbbed as he tried to remember what had happened. The moment he pushed too hard, a sharp spike of pain shot through his skull, as if someone were hammering a nail into the back of his head.
"Ghh—"
He staggered, clutching his forehead. His fingers brushed against thick bandages wrapped tightly around it.
…Right.
Fragments returned. The festival. The chaos. Then—nothing.
His jaw tightened.
Squinting against the light, Bao moved toward one of the cushions. It looked slightly loose, poorly attached compared to the rest. Dropping to his knees, he dug his fingers into the seam and tore it open.
Fabric gave way.
Foam followed.
Until—
Tap.
Cold, unyielding concrete.
No hidden door. No weak point. No escape.
A long, slow breath left his lips.
"What am I even doing here…?" he muttered.
"You will be playing games until we are satisfied with the results."
The voice came out of nowhere.
A large screen flickered to life across the room, covering the iron door completely.
Bao flinched, stumbling backward and nearly crashing into the toilet. His heart pounded as he stared at the screen.
A figure stood there—a tall silhouette in a black suit, no tie. Its features were completely obscured, swallowed by darkness. Even the voice was distorted, warped into something deep and mechanical.
"What does that even mean?" Bao snapped. "How long am I stuck here? Two months? Three?"
"That depends solely on your achievements and your diligence," the figure replied calmly.A brief pause followed.
Bao could have sworn… it smiled.
"If you are efficient, perhaps a month. If not—"The voice dipped lower."—you will remain here as long as necessary. Even years, if required."
Bao's fists clenched.
"Of course," the man added casually, "you will receive three meals a day, as well as adequate compensation for your troubles."
"I don't care about that!" Bao shouted, stepping forward. "What about my sister? My family?!"
"Do not concern yourself. We have already taken care of that."
The words hit harder than any threat.
"Now," the figure continued, "you should begin. The sooner you play, the sooner this ends."
"Wait—!" Bao reached out instinctively. "What do you mean you took care of it? What am I even supposed to do?! What am I looking for?!"
The screen went black.
Gone.
Silence returned.
"Heeey! Get back here!" Bao yelled, his voice echoing uselessly against the padded walls.
No response.
Slowly, the anger drained out of him, replaced by something colder.
He collapsed onto the cushioned floor. It gave way beneath him like a bed of artificial clouds, soft and suffocating at the same time.
His thoughts spiraled.
His sister… alone at the festival.His family…
A deep, instinctive fear clawed its way up from his gut, tightening around his chest.
And then there were them.
Ning. Aika.
The mere thought that they might be involved made his stomach twist.
"Aaargh… no point in thinking in circles," he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair.
Because right now—
He was trapped.
And there was only one way forward.
Two heartbeats later, Bao was already seated at the VR station, cables connected, visor lowering over his eyes.
Darkness swallowed him.
Then—
Light.
Orbisterra.
Nelenia.
The world formed around him.
A moving carriage. The rhythmic clatter of wheels. The subtle sway of motion.
Bao—no, David—sat inside, his body already settled into the role.
After resupplying the caravan and leaving behind a village still shaken by chaos, the group had resumed their journey toward the frontier.
But the situation was clear—without reinforcements, their expedition would not last long.
Their destination:
The nearest city.
"Why not just hire mercenaries?" Morell asked from across the carriage, arms crossed.
"Because we need loyalty," Elincia replied without hesitation. "Not just swords for hire. We need people willing to risk their lives for something beyond coin."
She leaned slightly forward.
"Mercenaries calculate survival. They don't walk knowingly to their deaths."
Bao sighed internally.
Of course. Right in the middle of a conversation again.
At least this time, he wasn't dying the moment he logged in.
"I suppose hiring adventurers isn't much better, then?" David said, his voice calm—far more composed than Bao felt.
"Not necessarily," Elincia answered. "They're less organized… but far more reckless. For many of them, fame is just as valuable as money."
Before Bao could respond—
CRACK!
A loud splintering noise tore through the air.
The carriage jolted violently.
Horses screamed, rearing as the sound of breaking wood echoed through the forest.
"Drop your weapons!"
A deep voice boomed from outside.
"There's no escape—we've blocked the road! Leave your belongings behind and we might spare your lives!"
Bao's eyes narrowed.
Great.
Back to this again.