*Ding-ding-ding—*

After copying *Rain Bells* ten times, stroke by careful stroke, I felt slightly tired. Just as I reached for my beloved math notebook, the bell signaling the end of the last self-study period rang out from the corridor outside.

Around me, classmates began rustling as they packed their bags. Only Guo Tong and I stayed put.

"Bro Lu, I’m sorry—it’s all my fault. Liu Yong’s poems seemed too easy, so I left them for last. And then…" Guo Tong looked at me with guilt written all over his face.

"It’s not your fault."

I finally picked up my math notebook, only to set it down again.

"So it’s *my* fault?"

Mo Shiyu hadn’t packed a single thing when the bell rang. She marched straight to our desk.

"How could I possibly blame *you*, Class Rep?" I forced a smile the moment I saw her.

I respectfully handed her my copied pages. Guo Tong did the same.

"Guo Tong, look how carefully Lu Fan wrote his—even if it’s not the prettiest, every stroke is deliberate. What even *is* this mess you call handwriting?" Mo Shiyu compared our pages, shooting Guo Tong a look of utter disdain.

"Class Rep, you’re not the type to judge by appearances, right? My handwriting’s messy, but I memorized the whole poem." Guo Tong shrugged it off.

He then recited *Rain Bells* flawlessly.

"Well… as long as you remember it." Mo Shiyu’s expression turned awkward. She couldn’t do a thing about Guo Tong.

"But some people," she suddenly turned her glare on me, "sit here copying stroke by stroke while their mind wanders elsewhere."

I *had* used their argument as cover to pack my bag, ready to bolt the second I could.

"Of course I’m thinking about other things. Thanks to *someone*, I’ll be pulling an all-nighter again today." I waved my math notebook at her, matching her sour expression.

"Serves you right!" Mo Shiyu snatched our twenty copies of *Rain Bells* and stormed off to the teacher’s office.

"Bro Lu, doesn’t the Class Rep seem… off today?" Guo Tong watched her stiff-backed, furious retreat.

"She didn’t tear you a new one, and you’re *itching* for it?" I chuckled dryly.

"I think… the Class Rep might’ve unlocked her *tsundere* trait!" Guo Tong grinned at me, waggling his eyebrows.

*Tsundere?* He’s watched too much anime. Real people don’t have weird settings like that. If Mo Shiyu’s a *tsundere*, then Jiang Muqing must be a *yandere*!

"So she’s *tsundere*, and you’re the uke?" I shot back coldly.

"I’m no uke! Getting chewed out by that tigress isn’t exactly *fun*," Guo Tong protested.

"I really don’t get it. I followed class rules, turned in homework on time—I’ve been so quiet I’m practically invisible! Why’s she suddenly targeting me?" I couldn’t figure out Mo Shiyu’s weird behavior.

"Eh, don’t sweat it. With her grades lately, she’ll probably get moved to Class A next semester. We might never see her again." Guo Tong was oddly philosophical.

He had a point. Based on her mock exam scores, Class A was likely.

I packed my things and shouldered my bag. Guo Tong checked the borrowed ID card in his pocket, prepping for the internet café.

"You’re still hitting the café this close to exams? Haven’t you been studying?" I frowned, worried he was wasting time.

"Bro Lu’s been leveling up hard lately. I started hitting the books half a month ago just to stay in your class. Exams are almost here—I just need to unwind for a bit before heading home."

"Leveling up?"

Hearing praise still felt good, no matter what.

"Bro Lu, you still playing *The Republic*? Our guild’s waiting for your priest!" Guo Tong suddenly remembered.

I almost said I’d quit that trash game, but after he’d just poured his heart out about staying in my class… how could I crush a gamer’s hopes?

"Yeah, I made a priest. Been busy lately, haven’t logged on much."

"We’ll have time once break starts!"

"Since I dragged you into this mess today," Guo Tong added earnestly, "I owe you something."

"It’s nothing—no need to treat me to food or anything…" I felt awkward.

*Though… I do miss those juicy crayfish tails from the second-floor canteen.*

"Not food. I’m giving you an orange-grade priest weapon. Found it in Screaming Forest near the starter village."

"Uh…"

*That cursed game.*

---

What draws players to RPGs is the sense of *becoming* their character. Grinding mobs, completing quests, collecting gear—it’s all about the journey of growth. When your avatar finally stands triumphant, decked in epic gear and titles, that satisfaction is yours alone. Outsiders might pity us, wasting real money on lines of code. Café fees were cheap; dumping cash into the game’s bottomless pit was the real waste.

RPGs are about savoring the climb. Skip it with pay-to-win shortcuts, and victory tastes hollow. The joy comes from barely defeating a raid boss, or stumbling upon a legendary drop. That’s why Guo Tong’s offer—a free orange-grade weapon for my Lv.1 priest—made me reconsider logging back in. How could I quit when luck like this landed in my lap?

So on the last weekend before exams, I logged into *The Republic* for the third time.

At the starter village’s tiny bar, Guo Tong handed me the legendary weapon.

*Elyna’s Whisper.*

I hovered my cursor over the priest’s short staff—it looked like a half-broom head. But the tooltip glowed orange.

In *The Republic*, gear ranked from common (white), rare (blue), epic (orange), to legendary (pink). Orange meant *epic*.

As a new game, common and rare gear had full online databases. But epic and legendary items? Most were uncharted territory. *Elyna’s Whisper* had no online records.

"*When the wielder casts healing magic, it quells all combat frenzy in nearby targets.*" Beyond basic stats, that was the only description.

"*Quells combat frenzy?*"

Did it make enemies surrender and hand over loot? That’d be broken.

*Only one way to find out.*

Armed with the staff, I headed to the fields outside the village. Ordinary raccoons weren’t enough anymore. I swapped my rogue’s crude dagger for a warrior’s short sword—higher damage, higher risk. My target: full-grown raccoons deep in the forest.

Left hand gripping the short sword, right hand holding *Elyna’s Whisper*, I boldly provoked an adult raccoon napping in a tree.

One swipe from its claws drained half my HP. I jerked my hands off the keyboard in panic.

*Just a slightly bigger raccoon, and its damage scales this hard?!*

Resigned to death-by-cat, I right-clicked to heal myself with the staff.

Miracle.

My HP bar surged back to full. Mana cost? Lower than a basic heal.

*Holy crap. This thing’s legit. Guo Tong actually came through.*

"*Meeeeeow! Meeeeeow!*"

The raccoon’s tail shot straight up. It hissed furiously, pausing before lunging again.

"Little beast!" I calmly stabbed it with my sword.