CHAPTER 49: MISMANAGED MISCHIEF

A week had passed, just a week of logging in and out of this broken world, and somehow, it already felt like a good daily routine.

Me and Hailie had gotten into a rhythm as actual good friends because Eirlys weren’t around much, if you could even call it that. Wake up in our respective rooms (her bed was silken and queen-sized, mine a too-clean guest room smelling like lavender detergent I didn’t own), log into Darkmoon Adventure in the evening between classes, and then grind high-level areas.

Our preferred mob farm was tucked away in a rotten valley few clicks past Wroeg’s Hollow, and I had discovered very quickly that it was the perfect playground for us, even when it was designed for parties ~level 30 and we’re most definitely was underleveled

See, normal parties had to do the whole "protect the squishies, move the DPS, rotate aggro, don’t let the backline get their skull smashed in" and shit.

But me? I had the ultimate cheat code: my cleric couldn’t feel pain and couldn’t be damaged. So I just focus on the front, and if something snuck up behind her, she could just run around for a bit, which she preferred anyways, for being able to use her legs again.

Sure, she could be restrained—stunned, webbed, thrown around like a sack of potatoes—but health bars was the only thing that mattered, Hailie just thought those things were cool because it’s something she never experienced before... Weird, but okay.

So while the mobs swarmed, I just parked Hailie in the middle of them like a lawn ornament and went to town with bloody murder.

Guard’s Bond would give her fakeHP equal to half of my MaxHP, but if she can’t be damaged, what would FakeHP be good for? Ridiculous, Imma tell ya, though, I still appreciate her healing me, her magic stat was around 50 right now with all the items, class bonus and level. So I’ll regain 25HP every touch, and with a cooldown of 5 minutes, we’re on a roll, baby.

She’d stand there, smiling faintly, healing me after I screamed my head off and cleaved through high-level monsters way above what we should have been touching.

Efficiency, that was our bond. The only reason why I didn’t ditch her to speedrun yet, because this actually worked, no need to stack up on health potions like how I would

By the end of the week, we were grossly overleveled. Hailie had just wrapped up her Cleric advancement quest, something I think needed to be done for future endeavors. It was quite an unremarkable questline with the generic priest NPC who kept asking her to "demonstrate compassion" by saving wandering orphans or whatever.

The system message should be on her screen right now, something like...

Class Upgrade: Cleric Priest

"Priest! Sounds so cool!"

I clapped like an idiot, literally in front of the monitor, because hey, progress. She smiled, the kind that only happened when one actually cared about these little milestones.

Cleric, then Priest, then Bishop, Archbishop, Cardinal, then Pope... I guess with her roleplaying skills, she’d be lucky to reach Archbishop, I do not have hopes for the latter too.

We high-fived right there in the game.

"Another great day, Cory! This is the most fun I’ve had in forever!"

"Good work, partner," I answered, "Time for class?"

"Oh... Yep! You log first!"

And I did, hitting the logout button.

The world outside the visor blinked back into being. I opened my eyes the game room, dimly lit, decadent in ways I wasn’t used to. As always, Anshur was there next to Hailie’s butler who I actually heard was named Gerald, sharp in his butler uniform, waiting by Hailie’s side like a shadow stitched to her wheelchair.

Anshur was easing up to me... I think? She never choked me again after that night, and we didn’t really have any problem... Weird, indeed.

I was getting used to it, scarily used to it. I didn’t quite feel belong here, even though nobody (except for Anshur, of course) minded.

Meals at regular times, a roof that didn’t leak, a fridge that didn’t smell like someone had died inside it three months ago, no bills waiting on my counter, and no landlord breathing down my neck.

Babysitting Hailie in-game was the price of admission, I was provided food and shelter in exchange for being her bodyguard in a world where she couldn’t be hurt anyway, easy math.

No pocket money, though, which sucked, but hey, beggars ain’t choosers and shit.

I checked my phone like I always did after sessions, scrolling forums for any sign of Tanya doing something stupid with my username, CJS69.

Nothing, she was dead quiet... I swear she was somewhere in there, still grinding and playing the game, just not letting anyone know about my username... Ann was online, but we didn’t really talk either. Both of them were ghost-like, and the silence was eating at me in a way I didn’t want to name.

I stuffed the phone back in my pocket, scowling.

"Fresh air," I muttered,. "I need to move my legs before they forget what a jog feels like. I thought I would stop rotting but I’ve been indoors for too long."

Hailie’s head tilted, curious, "Can I come? My tutor said she’ll be late for 30 minutes."

I blinked at her

"...Jogging?"

"Oh... I forgot, um- I’m just going to be behind, this area’s very pedestrian friendly, but forget I say anything. I have a few books I need to finish, too!"

I didn’t say what I thought, that jogging with someone in a wheelchair sounded like a sitcom gag and a violation of some kind of moral code. But also, I didn’t want to feel like an asshole."

"Hell yeah, let’s go together!" I said.

Hailie face lit up with sunshines... God her smile is fucking precious.

We made our way downstairs, the polished wood of the Sonder mansion creaking under my sneakers. The place always smelled faintly of polish and lemon, like someone had wiped every surface five times this morning.

Halfway to the front doors, though, we walked past a door that I often poke around but never got a chance to get into... And something shiny in the garage caught my eye.

I slowed, then doubled back.

"..." I thought for a moment, "Anshur, could you leave me for a second?"

The freckled beauty was more than happy to.

I shoo-ed her away because I just saw something I couldn’t talk about with both helpers (Anshur and Gerald) around.

A god damn motorbike, sleek, black, predatory-looking, straight out of some neon cyberpunk anime. The kind of bike I’d only ever seen in wallpapers, not real life, I swear to god I can smell the nitros here.

"Ooh baby," I breathed. "Do you think we can use that for a little breeze?"

"Any car to your liking?" After asking Gerald to open the door, Hailie wheeled closer, following my gaze "...Ah."

Her smile kinda dropped to an awkward one when she saw what I was referring to.

"Ah? That’s all you’ve got? Look at the weather outside, blue-grey, windy, this is beautiful for a ride!" I circled the bike like a hungry dog, fingers itching. "Do you... Uh- can we, like, does this thing run?"

"Absolutely not." before she could answer, Gerald’s voice cut in, low and perfectly dry, "The mistress can only get on secured four-wheeled vehicles with a roof."

I turned, he stood by the doorframe, expression carved out of disapproval, the words weren’t even up for debate. Who even wear a monocle and white gloves these days you snobby-looking ass?

"Aw, come on," I said. "She’s way more than capable of protecting herself, just gotta hold onto me with her arms and maybe some paddings for the legs and you can ride behin..."

"No."

I pouted, full-on pout. Hailie pressed her lips together, hiding a smile as she watched.

It turned into a stupid little sequence of me scheming, trying to convince him that we could "handle it," dropping increasingly desperate pitches while he stonewalled me like a brick wall with a tie.

Eventually, though, I managed to get him to step aside for just a second... Some bla bla excuse about needing water from the kitchen, and the moment he was gone, I spun Hailie’s wheelchair toward the bike.

"C- Cory?" Her eyes widened.

"Hear me out."

"Please, we’ll get in trouble..."

"Adventure," I said. "Live a little."

She hesitated, and then, with the faintest spark of curiousity in her expression, she just turned back at me without a word.

Getting her onto the bike was a nightmare, I haven’t been doing any pushups or deadlift since forever, and we weren’t exactly dressed for spreading our legs (the Sonders only have dresses for some reason)

And neither of us knew what we were doing, there was awkward lifting, grunts, her muttering "sorry, sorry" every time her leg got into my face or her weight shifted wrong.

By the time we had her settled, both of us were sweating bullets.

She looked at me, nervous but oddly thrilled. "Cory, do you know how to drive?"

I tightened my grip on the handlebars, grinning like a maniac. "Yolo."

She stared, then giggled, short and sharp, like she couldn’t believe what she’d gotten herself into.

I shoved a helmet over her head, making sure it fit snugly. Her hands reached out, clutching at my sides, hesitant but firm. And god help me the contact when her boobs pressed against my back sent an electric rush straight through my ribs.

The closeness, the trust, the weight of someone else holding onto me.

I swallowed, hard, if I overthink this, I might wet the seats.

The engine purred under my fingers as I pressed on the ignition with my right thumb.

Hailie leaned in, holding tight, and whispered, half-scared, half-thrilled:

"Please be careful."

And I couldn’t stop the grin from splitting my face.