"..."

Without a word, I jumped up and ran, grabbing the Guild Leader’s hand.

Sorry, but I really shouldn’t have trusted this idiot.

Wild monsters chased us for ages, their numbers swelling by the minute. We dashed wildly through the forest, bumping into other players grinding levels. But when they saw the horde, they panicked and fled too—dying wasn’t a joke, costing thirty percent of your hard-earned XP.

Someone—I forgot who—sent a world chat alert, summoning the crowd fresh from the city’s show. Players banded together and finally quelled the disaster.

But soon, world chat erupted with curses from those caught in the crossfire.

"Who’s the moron who pulled all these mobs? I was seconds from leveling up—now I’m grinding from half a bar again!"

"Damn it! All that XP, gone in a flash. Back to square one."

"Culprit, show yourself! Give me back my XP, my gear!"

Silently, the three of us sat in the woods, reflecting.

Alicia hung her head, drawing circles in the dirt without a word.

The Guild Leader bit her lip, staring at the chat, unsure what to say.

Watching them, I covered my face with a bitter, helpless smile.

"As Guild Leader, I should apologize. They’ll understand."

Yeah, right—they’d understand. She was adorably naive.

Curses flooded world chat—not just from victims, but rubberneckers too. Once again, the Ice Forest Beast Rampage topped the forums.

The tavern incident hadn’t even cooled off, and now this. Sigh. Our guild really was disaster-prone.

Soon, fingers pointed squarely at us.

"These three idiots started it! They pulled the mobs!"

"I recognize them!"

Clipped videos surfaced, exposing our faces.

Finally, drowning in conspiracy theories, the Guild Leader couldn’t hold back. Biting her lip, she typed on world chat:

"I’m sorry—it was an accident. Please forgive us?"

"An ‘accident’? That doesn’t fix squat! You cost me three hours of grinding, you jerk."

"Scumbag! Don’t you know us regular players bust our asses for XP?"

"Screw your ‘forgiveness’—here’s a ‘forgiveness hat’ instead. Cross my path again, and I’ll gank you on sight."

"I’ve got your names, ‘El’s Radiance’ trash guild. Every login, I’ll curse you out."

Targeted from all sides, the Guild Leader covered her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. As a sheltered young lady, she’d never faced such cruelty.

Alicia hunched guiltily, opening world chat to fight back—but her finger froze mid-air. Overwhelmed by the flood of hate, her courage faltered. Understandable.

"Do you realize your mistake?"

I wiped the Guild Leader’s tears away, then turned to Alicia.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…"

"Dummy, it’s not your fault."

Some treat games like life—I don’t mind that. But these comments crossed the line.

I stood, ruffled Alicia’s hair, and looked down at her.

Amid the world chat storm, the Guild Leader of "Eternal Nobles" spoke up: if Guild Leader Tianhe Woji rejoined their guild, he’d shield her with his entire alliance.

Facing pressure from a top-three guild leader, some trolls fell silent. Crossing big guilds meant constant ganking—making the game unplayable. A few fearless voices remained, but their bark was worse than their bite.

"Thank you for your kindness, but I can’t abandon my friends. Even if we’re cursed, I’ll bear it with them."

After this message, the Eternal Nobles leader went quiet. The trolls surged back like a tidal wave.

The Guild Leader endured the vile spam, eyes locked on chat, tears streaming uncontrollably.

Alicia held out as long as she could—then hugged the Guild Leader, sobbing, "I’m sorry, I’m sorry…"

"Fools, why cry? We did nothing wrong. Alicia, it’s not you—the fault’s with this world’s trolls."

Watching their tear-streaked faces, my chest ached.

I memorized the names of the loudest cursers. This grudge, I’d repay.

"Shut it! Whining over a sliver of XP—begging for pity? And you dare trash our guild? Low-class trash. I pulled those mobs, you brainless idiots—can’t even aim your hate right. Pathetic. Owners, leash your dogs before they bite!"

My message unleashed a tsunami of rage. Alicia and the Guild Leader stared at me, eyes swimming with tears.

"A man might not move mountains, but he can be an umbrella in the rain. We’re family. As a man, as a guildmate—it’s my duty to protect you."

"But… it was my fault—"

"Nonsense. It’s just a game—mistakes happen. Real life doesn’t reboot, but games do. If you can’t forgive teammates, why play at all?"

I hold grudges—I’m petty. Because in reality, losses are permanent. Everyone around me is irreplaceable. I cherish them.

But in games? Nothing’s truly lost. Restart freely. Ditch real-world rules—stand up to anyone, do what you want. Let ten thousand spit on you. I fear nothing.

"Pfft. Just little Snowfall, showing off at a time like this?"

"Exactly when showing off is coolest."

I dueled the entire world chat alone. The Guild Leader and Alicia tried to help—I refused. If they joined, my effort meant nothing.

Hours passed before chat quieted. Alicia couldn’t take it anymore—she gritted her teeth and logged off. Only the Guild Leader stayed, silently beside me.

"Think less of me now? Cursing so smoothly—I’m probably a keyboard warrior IRL too."

I chuckled, mocking myself.

"No. You’re more upright than anyone. I feel that responsibility in your heart."

She placed her hand on my chest, as if sensing my heartbeat.

"Hahaha. My fiancée would sneer at that. She once cried, ‘Don’t you have any responsibility at all?’"

"I’m sorry."

"Those weren’t your words—why apologize? But I don’t dislike her bluntness. Honestly? It puts me at ease."