Chapter 25: Carefully Planned Encounter (Part 2)

Chapter 25: Carefully Planned Encounter (Part 2) "Forget your troubles drinking something cosmic! Tee-hee!"

The pink-haired Idol from the ad made a V sign with her left hand while holding a soda can in her right. Her purple dress matched the brand's logo, and her smile was bright and almost too sincere, as if she truly believed in what she was advertising.

"Oh, man..." Alan muttered, "I never thought I'd take advice from an ad, but I really need a sip of that."

"Would you like to try the New Moontain, miss?" a jolly voice caught his attention.

A few feet away, a female NPC dressed in the same purple dress as the idol addressed every passerby. A vending machine with elongated robotic arms and tiny feet danced behind her.

"Sir! Would you like to try our latest sensation, New Moontain?" the NPC approached Alan. "Here's a free sample. One per account. Tee-hee!"

The energetic robot stepped forward, pulling a can from its metallic 'belly'. "Here you go, sir! Enjoy, and have a nice day!"

"Well, then," Alan said once he was alone again, taking a sip. When the sweet taste filled his mouth, he gulped it down. "This is false advertising, Miss Idol..." He chuckled bitterly. "You said I could forget my problems by drinking this..."

He crushed the empty can in his fist and repressed the urge to scream.

Everything he had done over the last two days had made things worse.

I lost my partner and got myself tortured... I misjudged an obvious, irredeemable jerk, and because of it, Astrid was humiliated... And now, because of my existence, I've ruined everything she has built for...

Alan bit his lower lip until it bled and hit the railing with his fist.

I can't do anything right—!

"There you are, little mouse!" a cheerful voice called out behind him. "I've been looking for you for ages."

Too tired to respond or even react, Alan limited himself to slowly turn around and squint at the person.

"Huh?"

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"Where the hell is he?" Karen Svensson hissed quietly after getting to the opposite side of Lancesmith bridge.

Am I in the wrong place? Did I miss him on my way here? she asked herself, glancing at the giant soft drink advertisement suspended above the river behind her.

She opened her User Interface to call Amelia, but after long, exasperating seconds without getting an answer, she grunted.

Seriously, Red! If I have to spend more time than necessary wearing this stupid face in public, I'll...!

Grimacing, she opened another virtual window that served as a personal mirror to corroborate that the illusion had not worn off yet. In the reflection, Astrid Bradford was glaring back at her.

Oh, how much I hate this face...

Karen had decided not to wear makeup while pretending to be her ex-Guild Master, and yet, deep inside the farthest corner of her mind, she reluctantly admitted that the blonde chick was somewhat pretty.

Freaking whatever. I have work to do. He can't be that far away.

Karen sighed and walked towards the street next to the bridge while keeping an eye on every passerby. S~eaʀᴄh the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

This was supposed to be a straightforward task. Everything to please her new master, Kathleen Maher.

Karen could not wait to find Alan, get into character, and parrot the script that Amelia had written for her the night before.

And I'd never miss the chance to be as hurtful as possible towards a meek moron like him. Some of these lines are delicious! Especially the part where I'll say:

'I was a fool to believe that your ghostly memory had given me the strength to do the impossible when it was always him who carried me all along...'

Emphasis on 'him'... Hu-hu-hu. Oh, Amelia, you fiend... 'Ghostly memory'? Only you could've written something as devilish as this.

"Golden Comet," a gruff voice called aloud, behind her. "Do you have a minute?"

Karen loudly sighed. She knew there was a small possibility that someone would recognize that 'blond bitch' face and would speak to her.

Seriously, Assford, don't you have shame? If regular people knew how you really are, your fame would be as low as your temperament... Whatever! Whoever this is, if they ask for an autograph or something similar, I'm going to puke on their face.

"What do you want?" The Fake Astrid asked, annoyed. "I'm quite busy right now, and I rarely spoke with the likes of you, anyway. So..."

There. You have one less fan today, bitch.

"Huh... Never thought the Golden Comet would run away from a fight," that person said, making Karen stop in her tracks.

Although she was not the real deal, the simple fact that someone had called her a coward made her grit her teeth. Turning around, Karen found a warrior wearing full-plate crimson armor.

"Great! I finally have your attention," the person said. "I'm a huge fan of yours!"

What's this all about? Is this someone that wants to make a name for themselves by picking a fight with Assford? It wouldn't be the first time.

Karen did not recognize her armor's design, and it did not seem to have any visible emblem or any sign of identity. The warrior's helmet not only hid her face and gender but also any info the Novus would usually show, like their name and level.

I knew it. Karen snickered. A complete loser that thinks that can go toe to toe with a Ranker after spending too many hours watching Battle Streams. Well, I don't have time for this.

Karen accumulated mana in a second in the form of a magic circle above her head, and rapid-cast, stretching out her hand. "Multielemental Beam."

A rainbow-colored column of light hit the stranger, hiding them out of sight inside a cloud of dust and smoke. The ground shook, sounding like a loud heartbeat, and the windows from the buildings nearby vibrated collectively.

Quick-casting took a toll on Karen. Her mana pool dropped significantly, and the tip of her fingertips fumed for a couple of seconds, as she endured a burning pain traveling all the way through her limbs.

But she did not care.

"'Glorified slugs' my ass," she muttered to herself, remembering what Astrid had told her the day before, outside of the Drinking Banshee.

Although we're inside a Safe Zone, this should be more than enough to get rid of some insignificant—

"Man, that was new!" the unknown warrior said aloud, stepping out of the resulting 5-feet crater. "Knowing you, I thought you'd come for a quick punch to the gut or the face, but you got me." They tilted her head left and right, cracking his neck. "You really got me..."

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Far from there, inside the Shooting Star's headquarters, Astrid Bradford looked at the rain falling over Londorus from her office's window. "Do you know the reason Marissa is offline?"

"She died in battle last night," Tamara informed behind her. "...Fighting William The Stoic. That's according to Helen."

"Why was she--? Forget it." Astrid exhaled, absently opening her User Interface to change her formal military clothes for a white crop top and blue jeans. "Okay..." she mumbled, walking towards the door.

"Are you going somewhere?" Tamara asked after glancing at Astrid's lost gaze.

"We'll talk later, okay?"

"Yes, Guild Master."

Although Astrid assured herself to be calm, she rushed her steps towards his room, where she knocked on the door. "Alan? Can we talk?" She sighed. "Please?"

Getting no response, she slowly entered the empty room, finding only his last night dinner outfit, perfectly folded over the bed. "Where are you?"

Looking for answers, she checked his location on her Friend List, as Tamara stormed into the room, looking pale.

"Guild Master! There's a—We have to go!"

To Astrid, finding the place empty and Tamara's alarmed voice combined, seemed like an ominous foreshadowing.

Like the peace before the storm... she thought, swallowing hard.