CHAPTER 122: HORRIBLE NEGOTIATION

My palms slammed onto the polished table, rattling a cup someone had left behind and startling nearby workers and guests who could see both of us in full view.

My throat burned as I shouted, every word sharp enough to slice through the incense-thick air.

"Ann Murphray, you know damn well I’m a raging homosexual with double X chromosomes." I jabbed a finger towards Ann, my eyes narrowing into knives, "actually, a slight bit misandrist for that matter! So if you expect me to serve a man as payback, I’d rather just be a liar pants on fire and never repay my debts! I’ll cut every ties with you if I had to"

The words shot out of me like arrows, clattering against the silken curtains, the carved pillars, the velvet couches of this too-elegant brothel.

A couple of the workers looked over, a buncha tan-skinned locals with eyes lined in kohl, mixed with pale-boned foreigners with Danielle accents in their hushed giggles. Only then I realized how ridiculous my scythe must’ve looked indoors, but I didn’t care at that point when Ann suggested such a ridiculous thing, my fury could’ve burned the whole underground den to ash.

Ann, of course, didn’t care either. She only tilted her head, covering her mouth with dainty fingers, and giggled. She fucking giggled, like my anger was a wind-up toy she’d got for Christmas and will get bored with after a few days.

"Oh, Cory," she said between little trills of amusement, "You’re so dramatic, you."

"Dramatic...? Me??" My teeth ground together. "I’m the dramatic one? Ann, you dragged me under your restaurant, your restaurant, that I thought was finally a legitimate business, and the first thing you tell me is you want me to... Fucking, what? Wear a veil and suck a cock? You know full well that I’m not down for that."

That one time didn’t go bad... But not as life-changing as I had hope, too much expectations, I’d say.

"So you say." Ann’s smile curled like smoke. "Though we must consider the balance sheet, darling. I risked putting myself in the moderators’ eyes for you. Building that teleporter that only two people alive even know how it works—you and me—Maybe half an hour with a cock shouldn’t feel so bad after asking your partner in crime to do something that bannable."

"Ugh..." I slammed my palm again, having the table quivered and the scythe on my back rattled with movement.

"You can’t force me into this, Ann! That’s not a favor, that’s literally just straight up blackmail! Way more illegal than... Compared to..." I pointed wildly upward, as though the law itself was listening through the stone ceiling. "Blackmail is a real offense and is more illegal than building an undocumented direct-targeted instantaneous multidimensional teleportation machine in a medieval fantasy setting! IN GAME!"

Ann giggled again, this time deeper, richer, too pleased with herself. Every syllable dripped like honey from her lips.

"Illegal? Sure... But relax. You shouldn’t call the cops on me." She leaned forward, eyes glinting. "Because I’ll just tell everyone what you did on June 3rd, 2015."

I froze, mouth opened and eyes peeled. Those words whipped me harder than the literal ones that Anshur gave me in the hotel, my anger immediately faltered, my glare dimmed into a tight, silent stare, and my chest fell with one exhale.

That was... a low blow.

"You... You’d do that?" I muttered.

Ann Murphray didn’t answer, just smiling wider, her eyes squinting tight.

So, I bit my lips and turned my head away.

I sank back into my chair slowly, my knuckles loosening. The fury burned, but now it smoldered instead of flaring. A silence stretched so long I thought I’d choke on it.

Don’t cry, do not cry, Cory. Maybe she was only bluffing. No way she’d actually brought that up... No one she’d ruin my life like that.

Finally, with a tight, bitter throat, I muttered, caving in to the pressure of double attack blackmail,

"...What do I have to do?"

"Hm?" Ann tilted her head, requiring elaboration.

"Does he want a blowjob? Or more? Maybe not anal- Can I wear a veil or mask? Do I have to strip? I think I can work around that Konami exploit to turn off pain sensors." I muttered and rambled, fingers fiddling, "God... Fuck- will the session take longer than an hour? One customer and all debt’s paid right? Will I be in trouble if he loses consciousness harmlessly mid intercourse because I have something for that too if you allowed it."

I looked up at Ann again, waiting for her answer, but instead, she just blinked at me slowly with an innocent-looking smile.

"Cory, what are you talking about?" She said.

"You... Didn’t you ask me to come here to fuck a dude as payment? Just call him in and I’ll do it, quickie. Just please don’t tell him my full legal name, every bit of anonymity helps."

Suddenly, Ann shifted her head away.

Her cheeks puffed slightly, her hands up elegently at her lips, her shoulders trembled, and...

"Pffff- WAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

She exploded, clutching her stomach, throwing her head back like my frustration was the greatest comedy this side of the Klakku capital.

We were getting weird looks from everyone inside, and hell, even the kitchen staffs poke their head in to see what’s good, which was awkward as hell, but Ann didn’t seem to care.

Her laughter rolled, high and hysterical, echoing off stone walls and drowning even the low hum of music from the next room.

She just kept going for at least a minute.

"Haaa... oh god! Cory, you should’ve seen your face!" she howled, tears at the corners of her eyes. "You’re comedy gold!"

The minute stretched as my jaw tightened. Her laughter spilled and spilled like a neverending waterfall. I sat there in awkward silence, caught between fury and the dull humiliation of being the butt of the joke, probably a joke... I hope it was a joke at least.

And then, as if summoned by the noise, a voice cut through:

"What’s so funny around here?"

My head whipped around, half-recognizing that voice.

A figure stood in the kitchen doorway.

She had short blonde hair, a pair of blue eyes that was only half opened like she was completely relaxed and was ready to sleep. She had a longsword slung across shiny metal armor, and it was high-level gear, because I’ve been meaning to buy that same level 45 chestplate for a while now but haven’t saved up enough for it, suggesting that she was a skilled player.

But my stomach twisted when I recognized that face.

"No way." I pointed at her and yelled, "NO WAY IT’S YOU!"

It was her.

Tanya.