Everyone was busy.
That was the problem.
Not the good kind of busy. Not the reassuring, productive, we'll meet later busy.
This was the kind where chairs stayed empty, mugs went cold, and the guild hall felt like it was holding its breath without me.
I wasn't lonely.
I wasn't.
I just… happened to be sitting alone in the dining hall. Again. In Black Vultures.
A guild that used to sound like shouting, clinking glasses, someone arguing over loot distribution while someone else slept on the table.
My spoon scraped against the bowl. The sound echoed more than it should have.
Okay. So it's quiet. That doesn't mean anything.
They're leveling. That's good. That's literally what I wanted.
Leonhart isn't playing around anymore. Random bosses. Forced corruption. Rank inflation like the system itself is panicking. If they don't get stronger now, they'll die later.
End of story.
So this is fine.
I stabbed a piece of meat harder than necessary.
…That was unnecessary.
