"Young Master Long, just say the word—I'll do anything, even if it means being your beast of burden."

After being untied, Lu Lu had grown surprisingly well-behaved. Not a bad thing—I preferred obedient guild members. Though a little mischief wasn’t unwelcome either; at least it kept things from getting dull.

"Today, I got beaten up, but the guy slipped away in the end."

"Understood. If Ark ever gives you trouble, Young Master Long, I’ll be the first to warn you."

Sharp mind. I liked clever people.

"Contact me privately for anything in the future. No sneaky moves that put me in a tough spot."

"Absolutely, absolutely."

Having seen plenty of low-key big shots, Lu Lu knew how things worked.

"Seriously though, this manga-style plot twist must have a reason, right?"

"Oh, yes! Of course! Bullying’s totally new to me."

"Spill it."

I wasn’t particularly interested, but listening wouldn’t hurt. If I could help, why not toss him a small reward?

Fear was the best way to control someone—but push it too far, and it could backfire. Clear rewards and punishments were the true path to managing people.

"You know Emperor better than I do, Young Master Long. In this game, guilds are status symbols. I’d do anything to join the top guild, the Eight Kings, just to brag to my friends."

Vanity lived in everyone. For someone like Lu Lu, who never worried about food or clothes, it ran deeper.

"The Eight Kings."

I’d heard whispers about them, but details were fuzzy. Vaguely, I recalled they were wildly popular on forums, with massive fan followings—even dedicated fan clubs.

"Just like their name, the guild has only nine members. Each is a one-man army. Their gear’s priceless, and their titles cost millions to customize."

"Isn’t that just a pay-to-win guild?"

"Totally different! These nine have perfected their skills. One person equals an entire legion."

Lu Lu grew more animated as he spoke. The excitement on his face screamed his worship of the Eight Kings.

"Why ‘Turtle Kings’—no, Eight Kings—if there are nine people?"

"Isn’t that normal? Like how the Four Heavenly Kings always have five members."

Uh. Staring at Lu Lu, I was speechless.

"Don’t overthink it. A guild like that? You’d never get in."

Memories of my time in the Eternal Nobles guild surfaced. I gave a bitter smile. We were never meant to walk the same path.

"No, no—I don’t actually want to join. I just need to meet their Guild Leader."

"He’s strong?"

"Insanely strong. The game’s #1 player. First to clear Emperor’s Divine Title Angel trial. He earned the orange unique magic sword—Avelia. Out of millions of players, only two have ever beaten that trial! Most can’t even handle mid-tier angels."

When entering Emperor, the System tests your real-world physical strength, which becomes your in-game stats. Based on the results, you get access to different angel trials. Clearing one grants special quests and rewards—but failing won’t ruin your gameplay.

The Divine Title Angel trial is the hardest. Pass it, and you get a mythical weapon (orange unique) plus a special class quest.

One account per person. One trial chance per account. After that, you’d have to wait for game updates. The mythical weapon is soulbound—you can only get it by defeating its owner in the Temple.

"The Divine Title Angel is brutal. Massive AOE attacks, god-tier gear, absurdly broken skills. Clearing it? Nearly impossible."

"Yeah, yeah."

Huh? Wait—how did you know all that?

Lu Lu shot me a weird look. I offered no explanation.

The chat had run its course, but this Eight Kings guild piqued my interest.

The first to clear the Divine Title Angel trial, huh? Interesting.

After swapping contacts, we parted. I refused his offer to walk me home, strolling alone under the moonlit streets.

"Wait for me! Wait for me!"

A familiar voice called from behind—Oriental September’s.

"Phew—exhausted. I’ve been searching forever."

She caught up, leaning on my shoulder, panting hard. How long had she run to get this tired?

"What do you want? Rob my cash or... my cash?"

"I’m not robbing anything!"

Wiping her eyes, Oriental September glared at me like I’d said something stupid.

"After taking Qing Xue home, I got worried and came to check. No trouble, right?"

"I’m fine."

She was worried about me? Being cared for felt nice. If only Ouyang Qingsnow acted like this too.

"Don’t lie—your shoulder’s hurt too! Wait, I’ll bandage it."

...Please don’t pull out sanitary pads again. Spare me, miss.

"No need. Almost home."

"You have bandages there?"

"Yeah."

Not just bandages—disinfectant, medical supplies, the whole kit.

"What are we waiting for? Let’s go!"

Oriental September grabbed my hand and charged forward.

"You’re... coming to my place? It’s late."

Dark night, lone man and woman alone in a room—risky. Especially since she was Ouyang Qingsnow’s best friend.

"I’m not scared. Why are you? Move!"

"Uh."

A girl holding my hand—probably a first. Her fingers were soft, her palm warm. Not like manga, but comfortable. I didn’t want to let go.

"What’s wrong?"

She turned back, cheeks flushed, shy as an unripe apple.

"Nothing. Keep walking—we’re here."

If only Oriental September were Ouyang Qingsnow. This tension filled me with guilt, yet it thrilled me. Dangerously alluring.

Under streetlights, hand in hand like a couple. Oriental September didn’t care, so why should I? We weren’t kids—even elementary students wouldn’t blush. But the warmth in my palm spread like fire. What was this?

Near my home, an uncle sold cabbages by the roadside, a small truck parked nearby.

"Uncle, still working this late? Few people pass by now."

"No choice, kid. Life’s tough. City inspectors swarm by day—I can only try my luck at night."

"Rough."

"Hahaha! If you slack off young, you’ll end up like me, worrying about survival. Don’t be like me—earn well."

He pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket, offered me one, and chuckled dryly.

"Mm."

I released Oriental September’s hand, lit the cigarette, and took a drag.

"Cough—cough—cough—"

After two puffs, I choked.

"Kid, okay? Not smoking’s a good thing. This stuff kills you."

"I’m fine."

Oriental September stepped forward, patting my shoulder, eyeing me strangely.

"Uncle, I’ll buy all your cabbages."

"All? Kid, I appreciate it, but don’t worry. I’m from the village—I’ve traveled cities. I’m used to this."

"Not pity. I’ll resell them for profit. Cheaper than supermarkets, better taste."

"Naturally. My cabbages? Pesticide-free, organic. But buying all? That’s over twenty bags."

"Then deliver them to my door. Carrying them’s a hassle."

"Easy."

"Go straight ahead—my house has a ‘Long’ sign. Oriental September, guide him and pay."

"Me?"

Oriental September pointed at herself, baffled. First time here—how would she know?

"Mm. Go."

After they left, I slumped against the wall, coughing into my hand.

I stood, breathing weakly. Blood seeped through my fingers from my left abdomen.

"Guess I brought this on myself."