CHAPTER 150: 150. GATHERING

It took Kaelira a good few minutes to calm down. Her shoulders trembled less, her breath steadied, and the haunted look in her eyes finally began to fade. I didn’t say anything—just reached into my pocket and handed her a crumpled, barely-used handkerchief.

She looked at it like I’d offered her a dead rat, but took it anyway. Wiped her tears without a word, then let out a long, heavy sigh before sitting up straight again.

The moment she did, I couldn’t help myself. Mischief was my second language.

I grinned. "Damn, Kaelira. I didn’t know you cared about me so much. What’s this? You falling in love with me? Honestly, I won’t blame you. I am ridiculously good-looking."

She gave me a flat, deadpan stare that could’ve curdled milk. "Fuck off. I don’t do horror well, that’s all. I was crying out of fear, not love. Who would fall for a lusty bastard like you?"

I chuckled wryly, raising both hands in mock surrender. "That’s fair. Not gonna lie."

She scoffed and turned her head away, nose slightly in the air like a smug cat who just knocked over your drink on purpose.

I leaned my head back on the couch and exhaled. "Still... thanks for waking me up. Believe it or not, you did kinda save this lusty guy from some freaky horror-AI mindfuck."

She nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, yeah. And now you owe me for life. You should worship me. Bow down before your goddess."

I rolled my eyes. "Ywah, yeah. Your majesty—fuck off."

She clicked her tongue and flopped back down beside me. We let the silence stretch for a bit. Neither of us wanted to bring up what we saw—or what we might’ve actually felt. It was easier to pretend it was just a nightmare. A hallucination. Stress.

Yeah. Right.

Eventually, I stood up and stretched. "Alright, Kaelira. Let’s go meet Vaylin. I don’t wanna spend another second in this hotel. Feels like that ghost-AI chick’s watching us through the goddamn walls."

She jumped up immediately, brushing imaginary dust from her hoodie. "You know what? I was about to make fun of you, but yeah—same. Let’s get the hell out."

We went downstairs, navigating through the lobby while avoiding eye contact with the concierge, who probably still remembered our last room booking. Outside, the morning sun slapped us in the face with heat and brightness.

I pulled out the invitation card Vaylin had left and punched the address into a ride-share app.

A cab rolled up within minutes. Kaelira hopped in first, taking the left seat. I slid in next to her on the right. Paid the fare, confirmed the address, and leaned my head against the window.

Four hours.

When we finally arrived, the time had just hit noon. The sun was at its peak, and it was beating down hard.

But the building in front of us was the real offender.

A massive dome-shaped structure, all made of mirror-polished steel and glass, was sitting there like a sci-fi arena with a superiority complex.

The entire thing reflected sunlight in every direction. The glare was so intense I had to shield my eyes with my arm.

Kaelira wasn’t spared either.

She hissed and turned away, squinting. "What kind of maniac builds something like this? I mean, I already knew Vaylin was a piece of shit, but this? This is psychotic. My retinas are suing me."

I scoffed. "I don’t think this is about being a jerk. Some people just have bad taste. And clearly, Vaylin’s aesthetic sense died somewhere between ’evil overlord’ and ’cheap disco ball.’"

With some effort, we trudged toward the structure, eyes half-closed, until we reached the front entrance. Two holographic guards materialized from nothing—thin, armored AI projections with glowing red visors and synthetic voices that made them sound like they gargled broken code.

"Invitation required," they said in perfect sync, their bodies flickering faintly with blue static.

I held up the card.

They scanned it wordlessly. A green shimmer passed through both of them, and they stepped aside with machine-precise gestures.

"Access granted. Proceed."

We nodded and moved inside.

The temperature dropped instantly. From searing sunlight to cool, sterile air. The scent of metal and ozone clung to the surfaces. A subtle mechanical hum echoed through the floor with each step, like the entire place was alive.

And then we stepped into the living room.

Except calling it a "room" would be a lie.

It was more like an open coliseum—walls lined with towering screens, metallic pillars etched with code, and in the center, dozens upon dozens of people were stationed.

Men and women. Some stood silently, others were lounging or chatting. But they were all armed.

All watching.

All waiting.

The air was thick with tension and artificial coolness. Like walking into a meeting where everyone was told not to trust you.

Kaelira and I didn’t speak. Didn’t need to.

The second we stepped further inside, my brain clicked the pieces together.

Vaylin wasn’t alone.

He brought reinforcements.

And not just random goons.

Some of these people were high-ranked. One glance was enough to confirm that. Some even had sigils etched on their arms denoting their Rank: ★★★.

I grimaced. ’This asshole’s been busy.’

Kaelira leaned toward me slightly, her voice low. "That’s... more people than I expected."

"Same," I muttered. "This ain’t a simple ’come have tea’ invite. This is a display. A warning. Vaylin’s flexing."

She raised an eyebrow. "You still think we should’ve just stayed in bed?"

I cracked a bitter smile. "At this point? Yeah. Ghost-AI chick might’ve been the better option."

From somewhere up above—on a high platform suspended mid-air—a slow clap echoed down.

A voice followed.

Smug. Arrogant. Confident.

"Welcome, honored guests," Vaylin’s voice rang out from the elevated platform like he was some kind of messiah descending from the heavens. "I’m surprised you made your decision so fast. I didn’t even get time to prepare a proper welcome."

’Didn’t have time, my ass.’

What the hell was this if not preparation? An entire goddamn army of decked-out players. If we’d taken just a little longer, he probably would’ve summoned a battalion of dragons for ambience.

’Sigh... this piece of shit was always two steps ahead.’

The platform floated down slowly, metal creaking under some invisible grav-magic. The crowd turned their attention upward the moment his shadow passed over them.

And like mindless drones, they started clapping. A polite, measured applause. Forced enthusiasm oozing out of each slap of their hands.

I didn’t clap.

Neither did Kaelira.

Vaylin finally stepped down from the floating stage and strolled toward us. His gait relaxed, like he wasn’t worried about a single thing in the world.

His dark coat swayed with each movement, and his silver earrings gleamed under the artificial light of the dome.

He reached me first. And then—pat.

A hand on my shoulder. Smooth, casual, familiar. His tone was raspy, the kind that lingered in your ears like smoke. "It’s good to see you made your choice quickly. I do hope it turns out to be the right one. But before we talk business... let’s enjoy ourselves, shall we?"

’Fuck. No.’

But I didn’t say that out loud.

I just gave him a fake cough and adjusted my hoodie. "As you wish," I said with a half-smile, "but don’t be too disappointed if things don’t go the way you want."

His fingers twitched.

It was subtle, but I caught it. He didn’t like that. His smile didn’t falter, but his pupils sharpened just a touch, the chill-guy mask slipping for a second.

He turned to Kaelira next. Tried the same charm tactic. Bad idea.

She was full cold-mode, eyes distant, lips pursed, expression unreadable. She didn’t even acknowledge him. Just stared past his shoulder like he didn’t exist.

He laughed it off, a little too stiffly, and moved on to greet the others.

I nudged Kaelira with my elbow. "Hey. Empty corner over there. Let’s go sit. If I socialize today, I might just commit a war crime."

She gave me a flat look. "You hate social gatherings that much?"

"Not just gatherings. I hate people."

"...That makes it way worse," she muttered, shaking her head.

I smirked but didn’t answer. Just dragged myself over to the far-off corner and collapsed into one of the metallic lounge chairs, arms folded, eyes scanning.

Kaelira joined me a moment later, crossing her legs and glaring toward the crowd like she wanted to punch someone. Specifically, one smug bastard in particular.

Vaylin was busy being a host.

Smiling, shaking hands, laughing like a politician. Like he was born to play the game of manipulation and masks. Nothing in his tone was real. He blended into everyone, made small talk with a merchant, even fist-bumped a cloaked rogue like they were old buddies.

Blergh.

I wanted to puke.

He stood center-stage again once his social battery had topped off.

"Friends and future partners," Vaylin began, voice raised, arms wide as if embracing everyone. "I’m thrilled to welcome all of you. You’re not here by chance. You were chosen—because your potential is immense, your passion undeniable."

He paused for dramatic effect.

I rolled my eyes hard enough to see into another timeline.

"You’ve been offered the chance to work with me. Together, we can build something powerful. A coalition of players strong enough to rival even the Western Continent."

’Oh, here it comes.’

He raised a fist, eyes gleaming. "And we will restore the glory of Opalcrest—our homeland! We will make it supreme again!"

The crowd erupted.

Cheers echoed, fists raised in solidarity. A few players even shouted things like "For Opalcrest!" and "We’ll crush the West!"

It was all the same nationalist fervor garbage, the kind you used when you had nothing personal left to say. Rally them behind a flag, a fake cause, and they’ll follow you off a cliff.

I leaned back in my seat.

’I’m not even from Opalcrest. I was born in Alaris. And I don’t even care about that place, let alone Opalcrest.’

Even if I was from here, I wouldn’t have given a single shit.

Vaylin continued. "And don’t worry—you won’t be doing this for free. Each of you will be compensated handsomely. A base stipend of 100,000 RHB per month. And that’s not even counting the game bounties or victory bonuses. Of course... a small 10% tax, because I need money too, you know."

The crowd didn’t even blink.

Of course they didn’t.

Flash money in front of a bunch of desperate talents, and most will line up for slaughter with smiles.

But not everyone.

Beside me, Kaelira was still glaring at him like her eyes were trying to set his entire body on fire. For a moment I thought she’d say something.

I leaned over. "Surprised you’re not even tempted. That’s a lot of zeroes."

She didn’t take her eyes off Vaylin. "I’m not here for money."

There was a sharp edge to her tone. Cold. Focused.

I knew that edge. I respected it.

She wasn’t pretending.

Kaelira wasn’t here to play his game or humor his illusions.

She wanted him dead.

Truly. Fully. In the deepest, rawest way possible.

’I guess she can be trusted, Now?’