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In the Mountains
Q: What do you do if you meet a real elf archer lady?
A: Dodge!
Peggy, decked out in full elf-archer gear, strolled through the mountain forest.
Her sharp, pointy elf ears twitched as she glanced around.
Out of the corner of her eye—a black shadow darted past.
Peggy nocked an arrow, raised her bow high, golden hair fluttering in the breeze.
Twang!
The bowstring snapped, and an arrow flew.
If that shadow wasn't some tumbleweed ninja, it'd be toast by now.
An arrow stuck in the ground, its tip buried deep, feathers quivering.
Pure power. Pure menace.
This wasn't a photo op—this was a legit, kill-shot arrow.
Twang! Twang! Twang!
The shadow kept flickering around, closing in fast.
Peggy's hands moved like lightning, firing arrows with pinpoint precision—each one a hundred-yard bullseye. But the shadow? It dodged every shot with moves straight out of a fever dream.
When her fancy quiver ran dry, the shadow let out a roar and charged straight at her.
Peggy's eyes narrowed, but she didn't flinch. She swung her bow like a melee weapon and met it head-on.
Elves rock at long-range, sure, but that doesn't mean they're helpless up close.
Especially since this "beast"—Adam in disguise—had his strength dialed down to match hers.
Elf vs. Beast.
A life-or-death showdown in the empty wilderness.
Strength, skill, and sheer willpower clashed. Every move aimed for the kill shot.
Dr. Shepherd's whole camping idea was about being "real men" in a strange, wild place. If they saw this, they'd know this was the gritty dream they'd been chasing.
Too bad they'd never get the chance to witness it.
With Adam as the beastly shadow, playing sparring partner, Peggy's combat skills skyrocketed.
If Adam didn't have bullet-time reflexes and superhuman stats, this kind of training wouldn't even be possible—slip up once, and someone's dead. 😬
But the payoff? Unreal.
Peggy might've started as a cosplay elf archer, but after this real-deal training, her archery and fighting chops were so legit, she'd pass for the real thing to any normie.
Film this, and you wouldn't need a single special effect.
Her raw power, agility, technique, and archery—paired with killer looks, a perfect figure, and that intense vibe—would blind anyone watching. 😎
Only downside? Elves fighting beasts up close is like bringing a bow to a fistfight. Her short-range game couldn't outmuscle a natural brawler like that.
When Elf Peggy finally got knocked down, it was like the sun dimmed, the earth wept, and the critters mourned.
Scene shift.
Time rewound.
Peggy, war gear pristine, strutted through the forest again, fired up and ready.
The shadow flashed through the trees.
Bowstring sang once more.
Same drill—arrows ran out, shadow closed in, and she lost in close combat.
Three days straight. Same story every time.
The week-long team trip was down to its last two days after two days of bonding.
Elf Peggy and Beast Adam went from foes to buddies, roaming the forest together.
Adam raised an arm.
Peggy stepped one foot on his forearm, the other on his palm, letting him hoist her up. She stood tall, bow in hand, scanning the horizon like a queen.
Archery, guns, hunting, dissecting, first aid, stitching—five jam-packed days.
They'd lived it to the fullest.
Adam was sure of it: even if her bodyguards bailed, Peggy could fend for herself, escape, or even turn the tables in a pinch.
That was the biggest win of this seven-day mountain adventure.
Hmm. That's the vibe!
Back in New Jersey, Lisa helped unpack.
"Boss, you're something else!" Lisa said, staring at the shredded elf outfit, totally done. 😑
"Ten spares of each color," Adam said with a grin, brushing off her look like it was nothing.
"Boss, the custom wardrobe upstairs is maxed out," Lisa pointed out. "One spare's fine—we can make more if we need 'em later."
"Then buy the next apartment and turn it into a wardrobe too," Adam said, waving it off. "Gotta keep the essentials stocked—these are Peggy's perfect fits!"
"…" Lisa had no comeback.
"Perfect for Peggy"? More like "perfect for you to rip apart." She silently roasted him. With his cosplay obsession and that "ten-of-everything" rich-guy energy, the apartment might end up a wardrobe skyscraper.
Adam left New Jersey in high spirits.
A week later, with some extra cash greasing the wheels, pros had fixed the hospital's safety issues, and it was back to normal.
"Melendez, notify our lucky winners," Adam said, striding into the medical center, buzzing with energy as he faced the four interns waiting there.
"Grey, you're on clinic duty today."
"Carter, rounds are yours."
"O'Malley, you're with me in the ER."
Adam dished out orders, and the four nodded in sync.
"O'Malley, you're chipper today," Adam said with a chuckle as they headed to the ER. George was practically skipping.
"Yup!" George nodded hard, beaming. "Adam, you hear? Those carjacking bikers in California got nabbed. It's spooked thieves nationwide—crime's tanking! Truckers can finally breathe easy. My dad's gotta be smiling up in heaven." 😊
"No kidding?" Adam said, surprised.
He'd been too busy playing wilderness warrior with Peggy to catch the news.
At lunch, he checked it out.
Two bald dudes nearly blinded him with their shiny heads.
One short guy, all attitude, hands cuffed tight—max-security style.
Next to him, three more heavy hitters: a curvy woman with the same defiance, a tattooed giant, and a droopy-faced shorty.
Then there was a cop—bald, buff, and radiating justice—grinning wide at the grumpy bald guy beside him.
"Interesting, interesting. They showed up early," Adam muttered, smirking at the familiar face.
That night, the clinical research project's two monthly "lucky patients" flew in. Adam got them admitted and scheduled for full workups, then dialed a number.
The news skipped the undercover racer he'd trained, and this Fast and Furious twist piqued his curiosity. He wanted the scoop.
So, fresh off Peggy's company, he stepped into another "Peggy"—same name, different voice, spilling a whole new tale.
(End of Chapter)