Even as Favna stepped into the café, surrounded by its elegant and cozy ambiance, her self-hypnosis inevitably wore off.

Once clear-headed, she saw couples all around and grew fidgety. To escape reality, she pulled out her phone and started playing a game.

In this world, a "phone" was merely a crystal-like object. Channeling magic into it summoned a virtual screen, perfectly replicating her past life’s smartphone functions—a neat case of convergent tech evolution.

"Excuse me, miss?" A waitress approached Favna, who was engrossed in her game, menu in hand. "What would you like to order?"

"Huh?" Startled, Favna glanced around in confusion. After confirming the question was for her, she kept her head down, didn’t even peek at the menu, and mumbled, "Just the signature drink, please."

"One signature drink, coming up."

Though Favna’s voice was barely a whisper, the patient waitress simply smiled and walked away.

Watching her retreating figure, Favna murmured with a hint of envy, "Maid outfits… really are something…"

But now wasn’t the time to admire cute girls. Her phone buzzed—a new friend request. The note read:

"I’m here. Where are you?"

Favna scanned the entrance anxiously. The café bustled with well-dressed patrons—everyone looked like a big spender.

Except for one plainly dressed man at a nearby table, who seemed oddly out of place.

"Definitely not him. He doesn’t look like someone who’d casually toss a thousand gold coins around."

She refocused on the request. *Should I just send my seat number?*

Her slender fingers trembled before hovering over "Accept." She tapped it.

*Oho~ Can’t hold it in anymore? You were so quick to delete me before!*

No sooner had she accepted than the infuriating swordsman fired off a mocking message. Fury flared—unbearable.

"Who cares about your lousy money? I’m just returning it. Don’t want some sore loser running to the cops like a crying kid."

"LOL. Here yet? If not, I’ll book a table."

*Booking a table?* Not ordering food—just flexing how foolishly rich he was.

Favna’s blood ran cold. *He’s that sore big spender. Lost online, now trying to save face IRL.*

"Still booking tables? Showing off your money-to-burn? I’ve got a seat. If you’re not scared, come."

After sending her seat number, she felt a flicker of satisfaction—but now escape was impossible. *Just hand over the coins and bolt. I can’t stand another second in this place.*

Moments later, the plain-dressed man in a white tee sat at the table right beside hers.

*How…?*

Confused, she waited—then overheard him mutter:

"So she’s messing with me. Fine. I’ll have someone bring her over later…"

"Hm?"

*Wait… could he be…?*

She checked her phone. Horror dawned.

She’d sent seat 135 instead of 125. *He’d been sitting right next to me this whole time!*

Now came the nightmare. She’d planned to toss the coins and flee—but now she had to *talk* to him.

*How?!*

Seeing him reach for his phone—*calling the authorities?*—tears welled in her socially anxious eyes.

Just as his finger neared "call," Favna shot to her feet with a sharp *thud*.

Every gaze in the café snapped to her—including his.

Then she sank back down.

*So embarrassing!! Do they think I’m weird?! How do I even speak now?!*

Tears glistening, she typed through trembling fingers:

"I’ve been right beside you this whole time, and you thought I chickened out? Honestly."

He read it. His eyes locked onto her. After a slow once-over, he asked:

"So you’re ‘Silver Dragon’s Dream’?"

"…"

Head bowed, shoulders hunched, she couldn’t meet his eyes or speak.

Only when he lifted his phone again did she whisper:

"Y-yes…"

So faint even a mosquito might scoff—but he heard.

He moved to sit across from her. Calmly:

"I expected a scruffy middle-aged man."

As he studied her, Favna stole a glance.

And froze.

Plain clothes aside—the emblem on his arm was unmistakable.

The golden insignia of the Dragon Knights Order. Stars she couldn’t decipher, but clearly captain-tier… or higher.

Engraved beneath: *Alte*.

Her face paled. *Dragon Knight Captain Alte Brand.*

A Radiant Sun Tier Dragon Knight.

Infinitely stronger than her—a shut-in dragon.

"That’s me. Problem?"

Hearing her mutter earlier, Alte was surprised. Online, she’d been vicious. Yet her voice… strangely melodic.

*Unbelievable.*

Though her current "wrapped-like-a-dumpling" outfit left him speechless.

"You were so chatty online. Nothing to say now?"

Under his piercing gaze, Favna looked away, mute.

Beneath the table, her fingers flew—*transfer the gold, then run*.

*This world is too scary. I just want to go home.*

*Ding~* "Transfer failed: You are no longer friends with the recipient. For security, transaction canceled."

The chime was soft.

To Favna?

Deafening.