Chapter 19: Long-term Promises to kick butts

“After what you did, you dare to say her name?” Alan said, wrinkling his nose.

Having Alan’s full attention made Marco chuckle. “What do you know about the gold used inside The Novus, Ghost?”

Gold? What’s this all about? What is he pretending?

Alan examined Marco’s smirk and decided to take the bait. “It seems to work like in any other game, doesn’t it?” Alan said, returning to his place, but refusing to sit, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms instead. “You earn it from missions or by working, and you buy stuff with it. But most important of all, if you die here, your gold balance gets cut in half, right?”

“And where do you think that subtracted gold goes?”

What kind of question is that? I would prefer to not make an ass out of myself in front of this dipshit, but I have nothing.

“No idea. Back to the System?”

“Very good, Ghost! You have shown to be more intelligent than the average monkey!”

I’m going to kill this man! …Someday!

“What’s your point, anyway?”

“The Novus gold is a crypto-currency,” Marco replied. “All of Earth’s money got transferred here into The Novus.”

“H-how do you know that?”

“The Administrators revealed it on The Novus’ first anniversary,” Marco said, sipping. “Back then, the entire world went crazy and started forming guilds late in the game. Since those players were inexperienced, we crushed them like insects.” He crossed his eyes with Alan. “Tell me, Technician, when the time comes, can you figure out what this money will be used for?”

Alan narrowed his eyes for a bit while remembering himself giving maintenance to the machines and weapon crates in the Santa María’s hangar.

“No way…”

“Whoever implemented this Gold System into The Novus knew exactly what would happen,” Marco continued. “Everyone started from level one here, even the rich. Now, only those with the best leadership skills or those with raw natural talent can reach the top. No longer the high-born will dictate or govern us. If you want to be someone on the next new Earth, you’ll have to conquer this world first.”

This… this is messed up.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because Astrid is a Ranker, Ghost. One of the most powerful Users in all The Novus… 7th place in the individual category. I can’t even compare to her. I’m in the top fifties.” Marco chuckled bitterly, examining Alan’s thoughtful expression. “Do you think Astrid has the time to play this glorified hide and seek game with you? Especially now that her guild is crumbling?”

Peeking at him for a second, Alan locked eyes with a plate of cookies close to Kathleen’s seat and got close to snatch a handful.

“With power comes notoriety, and with that you can gain even more influence,” Marco was saying, staring at the munching Alan. “If she’s smart, she’ll prioritize the rebuilding of the guild and get rid of any source of discord that may cause another severance again.”

Is that a donut I’m seeing? Alan thought, leaning forward to snatch it, but Marco pierced the table with a knife, right in the middle of the pastry.

“Are you listening to what I’m saying, Ghost? It’s unfortunate that you had to get out and fix other people’s mistakes, but life is like that sometimes. Call it ‘destiny’ if you want. The point is that you now live in a different world than ours. We, the top Guilders, are already in the endgame. While you’ll struggle to level up, killing slimes and searching for a menace that might not even exist, we’re preparing to shape the future of the next New World…”

“I don’t kill my friends,” Alan said, letting the donut get ripped in half by the knife. “And last night, things didn’t seem like you describe them to be.” He stuffed his mouth with the food. “Astrid is not concerned with amassing a substantial amount of gold. That’s why she didn’t blink an eye when punishing you all, wasting your precious money.” He swallowed. “Is that why your interests didn’t match hers, deserter?”

“We had different goals, true. Contrasting visions to what the future of the guild should have been.”

“All that fuss you made about me logging back and taking away your stuff was just an excuse to leave.”

“Not an excuse, Ghost, an opportunity. When Kathleen learned about your existence, she messaged me, offering me a position in her guild, which I gladly accepted.”

“You made your decision in a heartbeat, even though you loved Astrid,” Alan blurted out and was sharp enough to notice the brief twitch in Marco’s lips. “Does loyalty mean nothing to you, or did you do this out of spite because you never had a chance with her?”

“You can’t fall in love with a comet, Ghost. It’s beautiful and holds tremendous power, but it follows a very straight, rigid path. It doesn’t matter how much you try, it’s unreachable. You can’t reason with it to change its course…”

“Is Kathleen your wish granter then?”

“Absolutely. Yes.”

“What makes you think she wants the same as you?”

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“Are you going to betray her, too?”

“Unlike Astrid, Kathleen would never let that happen. We’re done.” Marco pointed at the exit, and his shadow guardian dissipated. “I would appreciate it if you could leave without making another fuss.”

“Fine, I’ll leave now, after telling you this…” Alan put one foot over the dining table, making the plates shake and his cup of sake fall. That coincided with an explosion from outside the building that shook the entire room, although he did not notice it, for his eyes were locked on Marco’s. “You know what I do,” Alan said in a deeper voice, “I fix things, and you may think you’re the smartest guy around, but I can tell when something’s broken just by glancing at it… And you… USED ME, as a literal tool… That’s something I’ll never forget. I promise you that one day, I’ll make you pay with interest.”

Marco’s serene silence broke with a sneer. “I’d love to see you try, Ghost.”

“Maybe I should start by punching that smug face of yours…”

“Move another inch, and I’ll make a hole through your chest,” Marco grunted.

“ALAN NO!” Tamara cried, opening the sliding door wide.

“T-Tamara, sorry for not telling you where I was. And it was just a joke. I know I couldn’t hurt hi–”

“Forget that!” Tamara shouted, grabbing his wrist. “We have to go. NOW!” She pulled him out of the room and forced him to run down the corridor.

“What’s wrong? Did they find out we’re here?”

Tamara stopped in her tracks to push him from the chest. “You KNEW?! Alan Warden, did you know this place was full of Death Bringers?!”

“Y-yes, I’m sorry! But I really needed to–!”

“I’m so mad with you that I could—Never mind! The priority is that you help me stop her!”

“Stop? Who?!”

“Astrid!” she cried, taking down the stairs. “She’s outside! She came, looking for you!”

Astrid is here… Wait, didn’t Marissa say that Kathleen is her rival? Oh, holy space crap…

“She’s strong, alright? There’s no doubt about it,” Tamara continued saying with tearing eyes. “But we’re in a Safe Zone, so she cannot fight with all of her strength! If we let her fight, she’ll lose millions!”

Marco’s words suddenly gained more weight.

“O-okay! Let’s hurry!”

By then, all the tables were empty and they could walk through the establishment without issue, but Alan noticed at the distance that the exit was impossible to cross through.

“This way!” Tamara said. “They kicked me out, but I managed to enter again through the kitchen.”

They ignored the NPCs that gently asked them to leave, crossed the exit, and rushed their way to the front yard, where Astrid was about to battle Kathleen.

“ASTRID!”

Both Guild Masters turned their gazes towards him.

“Alan.” Astrid turned off her battle aura and stretched out a hand to him. “Let’s go.”

He rushed his way towards her, making his best to ignore the dozens of gazes poking his back.

Look at all these people! Were you really thinking about fighting here?!

Passing by Kathleen was extremely difficult, for she was piercing him with the most intense glare. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” she cried. “I refuse to believe that you made all this fuss for him!”

“Congratulations on getting new guild members, Whoreleen,” Astrid said in a calm voice, turning around. “You’re made for each other.”

As Tamara rushed to reach her Guild Master’s side too, Kathleen snickered. “Do you see that, guys?” she asked aloud, regaining her composure. “Should we call her ‘Golden Nanny’ from now on? It was a pleasure to meet you, Alan Warden, and thanks for your help!”

As the entirety of the Drinking Banshee erupted in laughter, Alan kept walking forward. A few feet ahead, a female Shooting Star riding a puma waited for them.

She smiled warmly at him once they met eyes. “Good to see that you’re both alright. I’m Helen Reed. Nice to meet you, Alan Warden.”

“Nice to meet you, Helen,” he said, quietly.

“Can we leave the chit chat for later? I don’t stand this place,” Tamara said, trying to ignore the laughter and mocking remarks coming from the building. She called her winged beast at the same time as Astrid, who did not ride it right away.

Astrid’s eyes looked lost in thought.

It’s so painful to see her like this. I shouldn’t have–

“ONE YEAR!” Astrid shouted, turning back. “Enjoy your one-year advantage, Maher! That’s what it’ll take me to reach the Top Ten again! Try not to miss me in the meantime!” More provocations could be heard, but she ignored them all as she mounted her lion. “Let’s go,” she said to Alan, stretching her hand to him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, riding behind her.

“Not here,” she replied, as she ordered her beast to take off. “We’ll talk later.”

As they crossed the sky, Tamara pouted her lips.

“Why do I have the impression that we’re forgetting something?”

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******* 7 minutes before Alan and company left The Drinking Banshee…

Marissa emerged from a bathroom stall, a smirk on her face. “Now that’s what I call a good make-out session!” she exclaimed, glancing back at Matthew sitting on the toilet, blood oozing from his slit throat.

“W-h-y?” he gasped weakly.

“Because you dumped me first, silly, choosing that jerk Marco over me. Anyway, you’re not worth my time anymore. See ya!” She waved cheerfully as his body pixelated.

Humming, Marissa approached the sinks to examine her reflection. This desperately needs a new look. She opened her User Interface, but before hitting the customization tab, she noticed that Alan had shut down communications.

I wonder how he’s doing… Checking her Friend List, she confirmed Alan was still online. At least Marco hasn’t killed him… That’s good.

While browsing through hairstyle options, a Party Chat notification popped up, this time from a guild partner.

She sighed before accepting the call.

(Marshrissa!) Helen’s bubbly voice echoed in her head. (How’s my favorite jumpy person in all The Novus? Ribbit, ribbit!)

(Not in the mood, Rosbif… Unless you’ve brought something from Iregorn.)

(I’ve got a box of those twisty lollies you like. How about that, buttercup?)

(Oh, I really need one of those right now,) Marissa said, still browsing hairstyles. She watched herself in a high ponytail before shaking her head. Long hair is more Amelia’s thing. She sighed. (Heard the latest news?)

(Yep. Turns out Marco is a complete blighter.)

Marissa frowned. A what now? Whatever… Damn full-blooded Brit and her slang.

(I know, right? What does Astrid think about all this? Are we disqualified from the Iregorn’s tournament now?)

(Nah. She was talking to the organizer; she might sort things out. Still at The Drinking Banshee?)

(Yes. Why?) Marissa replied absently, choosing a pixie cut. This will do for now… Wait, what did she say?

She checked Helen’s current location on her Friend List: ‘Londorus – Shooting Star’s HQ’. / Astrid’s location: ‘West Londorus – The Drinking Banshee’.

Suddenly, an explosion from outside shook the building. That must be Astrid. She sure lives up to her ‘Comet’ surname.

(Got any other news?) Helen teased.

(What ‘other’ news?)

(Our guild’s vault—it seems Jason cleaned it out before quitting.)

(W-what?! Is that even possible? I mean, isn’t there a failsafe against a single User…?)

(Sweetie, this game encourages grabbing all the money you can by any means necessary.)

(That bastard!)

Marissa clenched her fists, pacing in the confined space. (This must have been Marco’s plan all along, appointing Jason as the Guild’s Treasurer.)

(Maybe,) Helen mused. (But what can we do? That place is crawling with Max-Levelers.)

Did Amelia know about this?

She tapped on her User Interface more forcefully than necessary.

(You’ve gone quiet, Marshrissa.)

(Where are you now?)

(On my way to pick you all up.)

(I’ll stay…) Marissa said, pulling a white ceramic mask from her inventory.

(Someone sounds daring! If you’re planning something risky, count me in!)

(No. I’ll handle this alone. Just… don’t tell Astrid.)

Marissa hung up, donned the mask, and recited: “Now you see me, look again. You think you know me? Try again. Another I am, malice I have.”

The artifact transformed her body into a shadowed silhouette, which she customized with a few button presses and sliders.

She shortened her stature, dyed her hair golden blonde, and altered her face and body beyond typical avatar customizations.

Finishing her disguise with a strapless dress and makeup inspired by her sister, she muttered in a deeper voice, “This will be fun…”

Minutes later, as everyone resumed their feasting and drinking, she walked confidently among them, searching for her prey. It’s good that not everyone here is a guilder.

She noticed some of her male ex-guild partners accompanied by nodding, overly-excited level-forty women in skimpy dresses. Diggers. Women who quit fighting to live off others. I despise them, but tonight, I’m grateful for their pitiful existence. Hu-hu...

Marissa glanced at her enhanced bust and grimaced. Even copying Amelia’s size, I can’t believe she’s comfortable with these…

She bumped into someone who snarled, “Watch where you’re going, you bimbo!”

“S-sorry!” Marissa stammered, face-to-face with her sister, who scrutinized her attire disdainfully.

“Pitiful…” Amelia hissed, noticing the fake number 42 above Marissa’s head and walked away.

Well, my disguise works, but it hurts being on the receiving end of Amelia’s scorn… She exhaled deeply.

Locating Jason Foreman was easy as he was loudly boasting, “Watching the Golden Bitch embarrass herself was the funniest thing ever!”

There you are…

Marissa stealthily took a cup from a nearby table and approached him.

Jason continued to guffaw, annoying his companion, Faiza Khalil, who grimaced. Don’t worry, girl, I’ll take him off your hands soon.

Marissa pretended to trip, spilling her drink on Jason’s pants. “Oh, how clumsy of me. So embarrassing,” she mumbled.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked, helping her up.

“No, I’m not. I was about to toast with my friends but wet your pants instead…” She looked him in the eye and giggled. “Wait, that sounded kinda dirty, tee-hee.”

“I can fix this in a second,” Jason said, tapping his User interface to change into an orange full suit. “See? What were you toasting for again?”

“Because we got rid of that dreaded witch, of course.”

He nodded, smirking. “I like you. I’m Jason Foreman. And you are?”

“Brittany!”

“Where are your friends? Maybe you could introduce them to me.”

“I was looking for them, but it seems like they all found company. Everyone but me. I hate being the last to find a date, or not finding one at all!”

“Why don’t you join us then? My friend Faiza here…” He turned around, but she had vanished. “And she’s gone. Whatever,” he smiled, his eyes lingering on Marissa’s cleavage.

Just as planned.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep