I ACCIDENTALLY BECAME A GUILD THERAPIST
Chapter 3 – EXP from Tears
ARC I: THE ACADEMIC EXILE
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SYNOPSIS: Livia, now the 'Shrink by Accident' for Guild #1, begins to realize that tears and anxiety are her currency in this new world. She levels up simply by listening to the confessions of super-powered maniacs. Bron the Tanker returns full of enthusiasm, dragging Livia into the heart of Bloodbath & Beyond's chaos. With every absurd therapy session—from slime love to an assassin's fear of the dark—Livia must decide whether she is an oblivious genius or merely the victim of a very cruel system joke.
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Livia Marcelline Quinn, the self-proclaimed patron saint of emotional furniture, sat cross-legged on a salvaged bench in the MMORPG camp. Her Therapist's Log was splayed open like a battle map.
The camp buzzed with its usual chaos—players screamed about "nerfed loot tables," NPCs looped their glitchy sales pitches, and a stray fireball singed a tent. Her sarcasm was her only armor against the absurdity of her new life.
She scribbled in her notepad: Day 2 as Emotional Buffer 2.0. Survived crying tanker. Guild is insane. Send help.
A notification pinged, uninvited: [Achievement Unlocked: Chronicler of Chaos. +5 Note-Taking Points (Cosmetic)]
Livia groaned. "Cosmetic points? Seriously, system? Give me a fireball spell or a nap."
She flipped to her HUD's status screen, squinting at the progress bar. Mental Supporter Lv. 1: 800/1000 EXP.
"So, I level up by… fixing people's feelings?" she muttered.
This is the dumbest game mechanic I have ever heard.
There are no swords, there are no spells.
There is only my questionable expertise and this itchy robe.
Her musings were cut short by a shadow looming over her. Bron stood there, his massive frame blocking the sun, his dented armor clanking.
"Buffer!" he boomed. "You're a genius! That breathing thing? Changed my life. I tanked a wyvern this morning and actually felt something. You gotta fix the others now!"
Livia clutched her notepad. He genuinely thinks I'm competent. That's… terrifying. She cleared her throat. "Okay, Bron. Glad you're… feeling. Who else needs, uh, support?"
Bron pointed to the guild's base camp. "All of 'em! They're a mess since you showed up." He grabbed her arm, nearly yanking her off the bench. "C'mon, Buffer!"
"Stop calling me that!" Livia yelped. A notification flashed: [Achievement Unlocked: Reluctant Hero. +10 Protest Points (Ineffective)]
The guild's camp was a monument to chaos.
This is a psych ward with swords.
Seraphina "Phina" Duskveil, the Eldritch Archmage, was in the corner, serenading a jiggling slime. "O gelatinous muse, thy quivering form doth stir my soul!"
Nyx Shadowmint, the Ghost Rogue, peeked from behind a crate, his Hello Kitty flashlight trembling. The paladin, Alaric, swayed nearby, muttering about "that damn slime race."
Miles Vexley, the Psychoblade Commander, lounged on a throne-like chair, his smirk as sharp as his blade.
Livia opened her notepad: Guild: Bloodbath & Beyond. Issue: Collective insanity. Approach: Run?
Miles caught her eye, his voice dripping sarcasm. "Back for round two, Emotional Buffer? Or you planning to bolt?"
"Don't tempt me," Livia deadpanned. She straightened. "Fine. Who's first?"
Phina glided forward. "I require your counsel, Sentiment Processor." Her eyes darted to the slime. "My heart yearns for… an unconventional bond. How does one court a being of such… fluidity?"
"You're in love with a slime?" Livia managed to keep her tone neutral. "I mean, tell me more about this… bond."
Phina's monologue lasted ten minutes. Livia nodded, noting: Patient: Phina. Issue: Slime crush. Approach: Don't laugh.
She tried a textbook tactic. "Have you considered expressing your feelings directly? Maybe… talk to the slime?"
Phina gasped. "A direct confession? Bold! I shall compose an ode!" She swept away. A notification pinged: [You inspired an archmage to confront her slime crush. +100 EXP]
Livia blinked. That actually worked? Her progress bar filled: 900/1000 EXP.
I am one sob story away from leveling up.
Next was Nyx, who shuffled forward, flashlight in hand. "I, uh, need help," he mumbled, his hood hiding his face. "The dark. It's… bad." His voice cracked.
Livia's empathy kicked in despite her surging panic.
"Okay, Nyx," she said softly. "Let's try visualization. Picture the dark as… a cozy blanket, not a threat." Nyx nodded. "It's… less scary." A ping: [You eased an assassin's fear of darkness. +200 EXP. Skill Unlocked: Verbal Hug Lv. 1]
Livia's HUD flashed, her progress bar filled. Level Up! Mental Supporter Lv. 2. New Passive: Emotional Resonance Lv. 1. The system chimed: Emotional Resonance: Your empathy amplifies trust in patients. Effect: +10% emotional breakthrough chance.
Her gray robe glowed briefly, upgrading to a slightly less itchy version. A small perk for surviving a breakdown.
I am actually getting better at this.
Alaric staggered over, his flask sloshing. "Buffer! I bet my holy sword on a goblin race. Lost to a slime. Again. Fix me!"
His holy aura flickered, undercut by the reek of cheap ale.
Livia tried motivation. "Focus on your strengths, like… smiting evil. Or sobriety." Alaric vowed to "smite the bookie." A ping: [You redirected a paladin's gambling urge. +100 EXP]
By noon, Livia's notepad was chaos. Her EXP climbed. The guild's chaos was relentless. Miles watched it all, his smirk unreadable.
Livia slumped, exhausted. I am their therapist now. Officially. Her introversion screamed for a break.
A flicker of unexpected pride stirred in her chest.
I actually stabilized a guild of lunatics.
A final notification flashed: [You stabilized a guild of lunatics. Achievement Unlocked: Accidental Savior. Skill Upgraded: Group Therapy Lv. 2]
She closed her notepad. "I'm either a genius or doomed," she muttered.
Miles approached, his voice low. "Not bad, rookie. Keep this up, and we might not implode." His smirk softened, just for a second, and Livia felt a chill. This guild wasn't just chaotic—they needed her.
And that need scared her more than any dragon.
[END OF CHAPTER 3]
To be continued...
Chapter 4: The Crazy Shrine in the Basement