Chapter 47: GamingKnock-knock.

    Noah had already secured permission from Uncle Smith and Aunt Mei.

    The hallway felt gloomier up here, weighted with teenage angst and unspoken problems.

    No response.

    He knocked once more.

    Hearing no denial of entry, Noah opened the door slowly and walked in to find Ethan hunched over his desk, headphones on, playing what looked like a military shooter.

    The rapid-fire clicks of the controller filled the space between explosive sound effects that blasted out of his headphones.

    ’Kid’s in his element. I better not interrupt mid-game.’

    Noah waited patiently, watching Ethan kill his opponents in the battlefield with surprising skill. The concentration on his cousin’s face was absolute—this wasn’t just entertainment, it was a way of escaping. Sёarch* The ηovelFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    After several minutes, Ethan’s character finally died.

    He pulled off his headphones with a frustrated sigh.

    "Can I play with you?" Noah asked quietly.

    Ethan looked at him for a second, surprise flickering across his face.

    Without a word, he handed over a second controller, scooting his chair to make room.

    ’Gaming isn’t my strong suit, but maybe the system will help.’

    Noah settled beside his cousin, controller feeling foreign in his hands.

    The game loaded—some tactical shooter with more buttons than seemed necessary.

    "Don’t expect much," Noah warned.

    Ethan’s lips twitched.

    ’Maybe I should’ve said that before the game started.’

    The first five minutes were a massacre. Noah’s character died repeatedly—shot by enemies, falling off cliffs, accidentally grenading himself.

    His kill-to-death ratio resembled a tragedy.

    ’This is embarrassing. I’m getting destroyed in front if my own cousin.’

    But gradually, something changed. His reflexes sharpened.

    Movements became more fluid.

    The controller stopped feeling like an alien item.

    Then the notification flashed across his retina.

    [You have gained the skill: Gaming (Lvl.1)]

    ’Nice.’

    The change was immediate. Noah’s next life lasted significantly longer, his aim improving with each engagement.

    He actually managed to eliminate an enemy without immediately dying afterward.

    "Huh," Ethan said, glancing at Noah’s screen. "You’re getting better."

    "I’ve been hiding my true skill. Watch me now!"

    They played in comfortable silence, the tension from downstairs melting away in digital gunfire and respawn timers.

    For the first time since arriving, Ethan seemed genuinely relaxed.

    ’Whatever’s eating at him, this helps. Sometimes the best conversations happen without talking.’

    Noah’s improved performance drew increasingly impressed looks from his cousin.

    Gaming Level 1 might not make him a professional, but it was enough to hold his own.

    ’Time to find out what’s really wrong.’

    Noah thought as their characters respawned for another round.

    The gaming session had worked its magic—Ethan’s shoulders had relaxed, the tight lines around his eyes had softened.

    "Bro. What’s wrong? Tell me."

    The brotherly tone felt natural, unforced.

    Noah had learned from watching Uncle Smith—sometimes family needed directness wrapped in warmth.

    Ethan’s fingers stilled on the controller. His jaw worked silently, wrestling with words that clearly wanted to stay buried.

    "It’s nothing."

    "Try again. We aren’t that far apart in age you know. Also, you don’t have to worry about your parents finding out. I promise i won’t tell them."

    The teenager’s facade cracked. Pain leaked through like water through a dam.

    "Her name was Amy," he said finally. "We’d been together for three weeks. Three weeks, and I thought..."

    His voice caught.

    Noah waited, understanding that some stories needed space to breathe.

    "There’s this guy at school. Jason Mitchell. His dad is a rich man in the city."

    Ethan’s knuckles whitened around the controller.

    "Guy drives a merc to school. Sixteen years old with a fucking merc."

    Rich kid syndrome. I remember those types.

    "Jason’s the school playboy. When he gets bored, he moves to the next girl, and leaves wreckage behind."

    Ethan’s voice hardened with every word.

    "Everyone knows his pattern, but girls still line up anyway."

    Money talks. Especially to teenagers.

    "Last Friday, Amy texted saying she had some family dinner. And she couldn’t hang out on our planned date, haha."

    Ethan’s laugh carried no humor.

    "So I’m scrolling Outstagram that night, and there’s Jason’s story. Fancy restaurant downtown. And a girl, and the designer bag he’d bought her that afternoon was on the table."

    "Naturally, you might think. How did I know it was Amy, if her face wasn’t fully showing in the picture. Well...it was her hand. Her hand has a birthmark that I know well."

    "Two hundred dollar bag. That’s all it took."

    "She looked so happy," Ethan whispered. "Happier than she ever looked with me. That smile looked ecstatic."

    Noah felt his cousin’s pain like a physical touch, that special kind of betrayal that came from discovering you’d been replaced by a price tag.

    "The bag cost two hundred dollars. I saw the receipt in his story—he was bragging about it. Two hundred dollars, and she threw away three weeks like it meant nothing."

    Three weeks feels like forever at sixteen.

    Ethan’s breathing grew ragged.

    "She doesn’t even know I found out. Still texts me like nothing happened. Like I’m just some backup option while she plays princess with money boy."

    The teenager’s composure finally shattered.

    Tears fell freely now, carrying days of suppressed humiliation and rage.

    "I’m such an idiot. How could I compete with that? I work weekends at the grocery store for minimum wage. He probably spends more on lunch than I make in a day."

    And there’s the real wound. Not just betrayal—inadequacy.

    Noah’s expression changed. The sympathetic cousin facade melted away, replaced by something more sneaky.

    A smirk played at the corners of his mouth.

    "So what do you want to do?"

    "Nothing."

    Ethan wiped his eyes roughly.

    "I can’t do anything. He’s rich, I’m broke. End of the story."

    "No, I mean in your heart. What do you really want to do?"

    Something flickered in Ethan’s eyes, a spark of anger that had been smoldering beneath the hurt.

    "I want to slap them both in the face," he said quietly.

    Then louder.

    "I want to make her regret cheating on me. I want to make her come to me thinking that everything was fine before I dump her infront of the whole class."

    Damn, so much emotion. My cousin’s a little edge lord, huh?

    Noah’s smirk intensified.

    "Alright. Do you have her on your social media still?"

    Ethan nodded, gritting his teeth.

    "I still haven’t broken up with her officially. She doesn’t know that I found out about her cheating from Jason’s story."

    "Perfect." Noah stood, energy crackling around him like hidden electricity.

    "Now get ready. I want to take you somewhere."