CHAPTER 104: AN ENCOUNTER WITH ANSHUR

I slumped back into my private gaming chair right after dinner, scrolling the forums on autopilot. Threads about raids, market prices, drama between guilds... all white noise, and I sighed.

The Null Shepherd thing? Honestly, I didn’t care anymore, it was just something that happened in game and I’m more than happy if it blew through without anything coming out of it.

Eirlys confirmed it was a mess on her end to untangle, and I’m not trustworthy enough to touch the source code (which, bright idea by her, I’m going to do so much tomfoolery in there) so she practically let me go after that conversation, and that was good enough for me.

Just as I was about to go masturbate, I heard the door knocked thrice right on schedule...

Ah, yeah, I almost forgot it’s 10PM.

Every night just before bedtime, or around 22:00, the maids would change bedsheets as their last duty.

"Come in."

Anshur von Rodolfo stepped in with her usual air of silent disapproval, not even batting an eye at me as she carried fresh sheets.

She didn’t need to announce herself, she just walked past me. I observed her ginger hair catching the dim sleeping light I got on my nightstand, freckles spotted across her face unevenly like paint splatters, her body strong and curvy from years of labor yet quite disciplined in posture... God, every time she walk past, I have the biggest urge to spank her.

I guess that’s why rich fat old men often cheat on their wife.

Plus the fact that she’s a Dexter Morgan for poor people... Made Anshur beautiful in that way, the kind that made my chest tight whenever she stood too close. And she intimidated the hell out of me.

The maid dress she wore was absolutely marvelous by the way... Whoever design that shit, keep it up homeboy.

I spun my gaming chair around, resting my chin in my palm, watching her strip the bed, folded it, then put on a new sheet with quite the speed and precision like she was about to strangle it.

Then I noticed as I watched... She was quiet as she normally would, but something else changed, she looked... off. The corner of her mouth tugged downward, her eyes glassy, movements heavier than usual, and I noticed.

"Are you okay?" I asked before I could stop myself.

She froze, sheets in hand, and glanced around the room hastily like she expected someone else to crawl out of my closet. She couldn’t fathom the fact that I’m trying to have a conversation.

"You’re asking me?" She frowned at me.

Our "relationship," if it could even be called that, was nothing close to friendly. More like begrudging coexistence with me tolerating her hostility and her tolerating my existence, which is exactly why even I didn’t know why I’d asked.

She proceeded to ignore me, so I shrugged,

"Yeah. You just look like you got dumped."

Just then, her head whipped toward me with her eyes narrowed, that made my stomach flipped as a "Holy shit" whisper went out of my lips.

"...Wait." I squinted. "Holy shit... You did just get dumped? YOU? Was it a boyfriend or a girlfriend"

She dropped the sheets and started thumping towards me with a balled up fist, my body went cold realizing I’m one dumb motherfucker.

"W-whoa whoa! Chill! We can talk it out!" I blurted, hands up like a hostage. "Listen, bottling emotions is unhealthy, you know? Leads to intensive psychological distress, can cause long-term trauma, anxiety, depression..."

"Shut up."

"Yes ma’am."

She gestured for me to get out of my seat, which I did, and she went on to sit down on my favorite gaming chair, back turned against my PC.

Anshur sighed as sat herself down on my gaming chair, crossing her legs. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of exhaustion, confusion and contempt.

"Sit," she said flatly.

Problem was, there was nowhere else to sit but my bed and my pod... So I chose somewhere we could converse.

I slid down to the floor, crossing my legs like some monk about to be enlightened, staring up at her. Anshur didn’t quite approved of this, it seems, but she doesn’t have a choice in this matter.

"Why are you like this?" She finally asked, which was kind of insulting by the way.

"No, no, no, no way Michael Bay, wrong way around." I pointed at her. "Why are you like this? Why are you out to kidnap and torture me and push me through peak doors and stuff?"

I asked deliberately, eyes flicking once to the corner of the room where the real hidden camera nestled against the windowsill, every word she said now would be caught.

But then, dramatic music plays, Anshur softened her eyes, and her lips curled into a smirk.

"Nice try."

She spun the gaming chair around, turned off my PC and and flipped the webcam face-first down on the table.

Relief rushed in, she thought that was the trap, while the real camera still blinked silently in place... You’re so fucked, Anshur von Rodolfo.

She returned to the chair, voice dripping venom as she answered.

"You don’t need to know why, just know that I don’t think filthy rats belong near us in the higher society... Especially the madams."

I licked my lips, heart pounding, but forced myself to sound steady.

"So that’s it, huh? Class warfare? Human nature says we’re all the same, like that one quote, men are good in nature. If you’d been born in my position, our roles would be reversed. Doesn’t that mean all of this..." I gestured vaguely, "...is just luck of the draw?"

"Sure, if you say so," she said calmly and quite immediately, as if she’d heard it before. "But it doesn’t matter. Right now, in this exact moment, we’re not equals, so that logic does not hold."

That stung because I didn’t have a comeback.

If we were to switch bodies in the next life and I retain my memory, I’m sure as hell going to fuck her up.

"Do you hate me because I’m poor walking in a rich place? Or because I’m close with the Sonders?" I tried another angle of attack.

"Both." Anshur answered.

That... confused me.

"Then why not just force me out? I dunno, shit on the floor and blame me for it?"

"..." She looked at me for at least 5 seconds as her face twisted with disgust. "You’re repulsive."

"Heh..." I chuckled.

Then, without warning, she pressed the polished black tip of her Mary Janes against my forehead, pushing gently back and forth, rocking my head back and forth like I was some stress toy.

"It’s because the young mistress would be sad," she said quietly. "Because you’ve been... nice to her... Ugh, she finally got a friend, I’m glad, but why did she choose such a filthy subhuman being?"

The words hit heavier than the pressure on my skull.

And then, to my absolute shame (not), I realized my jaw had slackened. Then drool, actual saliva drool, sliding down my chin while she was pressing her shoe into me face.

She noticed.

Her expression twisted, repulsion carved deep into her face. She pulled her foot back like she’d just stepped in something vile.

"Urg... This is exactly why I don’t want my madams to be associated with you, you..."

She didn’t finish the sentence.