I looked up. "…Sorry, what?"
...
Insert 'erm_excuse_me_emoji.png' here.
A guy strolled toward me with an entourage trailing behind him. His party looked like they'd walked straight out of a hardcore party comp forum thread—two berserkers, a warlock, and a healer hiding in the back like she'd rather be anywhere else.
The guy in the lead was an assassin and probably their captain.
He wore a black cloak with worn leather straps and carried a pair of twin daggers—it would've looked somewhat intimidating, except for the fact that it made him look like one of your garden-variety 'oooh look at me I'm so mysterious and edgy' assassins.
Luckily, I'm here as your genius doctor to provide an accurate diagnosis of this peculiar specimen of a human being.
...
Yeah, he'd probably watched way too much anime. I can relate. (I mean, like... what did you expect? lol)
I stared at the assassin, who was still trying to act cool. I couldn't have been more turned off—go get a job, buddy. Go to uni, do your undergrad, do your masters or whatever—honestly, it's not even that hard.
(Hey, don't look at me like that~ You know that you can do it. Just stop partying every day till 3 am in the morning and actually study. Come on. You can do it~)
Well… I'm a resident genius, but still~ A good portion of jobs don't even require degrees.
Either way, the assassin's player tag floated smugly over his head: [Lv.6]. His buddies hovered around level five, except the poor Healer stuck at level three.
His face was rugged in that overproduced, trashy-drama way. The type teens and girls my age would lose their minds over.
…Not me, obviously.
Just as I thought this, he winked.
Ew.
Oh god, he winked at me.
Bleugh.
Someone get me a barf bag. This moron's going to make me throw up.
"You heard me," he said, walking closer. He smirked. "It's not your fault for choosing the worst class in the game. I'm sure you didn't know any better. Say, why don't you join our party?"
"Your party?"
"Yeah. We'll carry you."
...Bullshiiiiiiiiit.
My patient monitors back at the hospital were already screaming. Random party invite, straight after an insult? I saw two possible outcomes:
1) I'd be turned into a potion-brewing slave as an alchemist.
2) Something much worse would happen.
Sure, maybe there was a microscopic chance he was being genuine, but with the Warlock smirking, whispering behind his hand while the assassin grinned like a serial killer?
Not damn likely.
"I'm good," I said quickly. "I didn't come here to grind. I just wanted to relax." I slid half a step back toward the Alchemist school door.
"We can do that," he said. He took a step forward, his gear rustling as he moved.
I narrowed my eyes.
Uh-huh. You're going to relax with your full sweaty ahh min-maxed combat squad? Sure, buddy. Whateeeeeeever you say.
My gaze flicked past him to the healer, who was quivering. She looked miserable and wouldn't meet my eyes. She kept her gaze down, clutching her staff like a severe patient to an IV stand. She had the whole I've-seen-this-before vibe radiating off her. My gut twisted—were they squeezing her dry, too?
She was pretty cute, as well…
"I'm fine," I repeated, edging back toward the Alchemist school door. My heart spiked as my fingers brushed against the doorknob behind me. "Thanks, though."
"No, I insist." His hand shot out as he closed the distance in a flash, his clammy fingers closing around my forearm.
I flinched.
"Hey!" I tried to pull out of his grip but my stupid noodle arms wouldn't let me. Shit, how do I screen record again…? And why aren't the guards coming? Cities were supposed to be safe zones!
"C'mon," he coaxed. "It won't be that bad."
"No, I—"
BANG.
The door behind me burst open with explosive force, slamming against the outside of the school with enough power to rattle its shaky hinges. The iron fittings shrieked like they'd just woken from a century-long nap.
The assassin cringed at the noise.
Silence swallowed the square whole, snuffing out the endless chatter. Aside from the fluttering of flags, there wasn't a single noise. It was so quiet that you could hear a scalpel drop from all the way across the square.
Every single player's attention was now on the scene unfolding at the steps of the Alchemist school.
I turned toward the door to see what had blown it wide open—
—and nearly swallowed my tongue.
Oh.
Oh, shit.
Midori stood there with her hands buried in her pockets, one leg raised. Her face was cold like liquid nitrogen. It took me a solid second to register that she'd kicked open the door.
Ha, ha. Genius, I know.
I wasn't sure how to feel. For one, I was glad to see her, but then again, after what had happened, I wasn't sure what to make of it.
Her footsteps cracked against the stone stairs as she descended, each snap from her heel touching the cold rock causing a miniature tremor.
Her glare locked onto the Assassin, cutting through him like a scalpel through flesh.
I shivered as her mere presence seemed to draw all the pressure in the world. My throat went dry. Was this the same receptionist I'd seen behind the counter?
When she spoke, her voice was low and venomous. Midori growled. "Is there a problem here?"
The assassin's grip faltered. His friends gawked.
"Is that an NPC?"
"Damn, she's hot…"
"How do you add NPCs to parties again?"
"Yo. Hottie. What's your name?"
I gritted my teeth.
Fucking degens, every single one of them. (Except for the poor girl… I wish I could give her a hug.)
Midori ignored them. She reached out, seizing the assassin's arm. "I asked," she repeated, "if there was a problem here." She narrowed her eyes. Her voice was dangerously quiet.
NPC guards began pushing forwards through the crowd now, but their progress was slow. Too slow. If they were RMRTs, I'd have them fired on the spot.
Luckily, the assassin and his party were oblivious. The assassin sneered. "Hot NPC thinks she can boss us around? Look, sweetheart, butt out. Maybe we'll even add you as our—"
"Oh, shut up. I heard what you said about my school. What was it—you said that it was the shittiest?" Midori cut him off. "It was cute, I'll give you that. But before you trash other people, maybe remember Assassin's literally the only school with two asses in the name."
…
Oh. My. God.
ASS-ASS-in.
How did I miss that????
Holy fuck, there were layers on that one.
Muted laughter rippled through the crowd. The assassin's face turned scarlet.
Then, everything all happened at once.
The assassin's dagger flashed into his hand while Midori's smile sharpened. A single glass vial shattered in her fist, black liquid oozing out and mixing with her blood. The sharp crack of the glass snapping was like a declaration of war, ringing clearly across the silent square.
Where she'd hidden the vial, I didn't know.
Either way, the mixture of blood and black liquid fell on the stone tiles and shards of glass cut deep into Midori's hand as a black aura surrounded her. Her veins ran black and her eyes flooded with shadows. Writhing tendrils of ink spiraled from her back like a nest of serpents.
Pressure crushed down on me. The assassin's grip went slack and I wrenched free, stumbling back against the steps.
Looking up, the rest of the assassin's party had drawn their weapons, excluding the girl, who reluctantly held up her staff, quivering at the knees.
"Ms. Hiyomi." Midori's voice was low, terrifying. It sent shivers up my spine. If I'd have heard that normally, it probably would have sounded somewhat dommy-mommy like, but now it just sounded straight up murderous.
"Y-Yes?"
"Please go inside and lock the door. This isn't something you should see."
"Midori—"
"Hush, now."
"Enough talking!" The assassin's dagger curved and flashed in a circle toward Midori's head.
Midori's smile curved upwards like a serpent. (Or kind of like me, knowing that a bucket of fried chicken met its end after every single 23 hour shift at Forest Brooke. Hey, I get hungry, okay? Plus, fried chicken's nyummy.)
Midori flicked a finger towards the assassin. She didn't even turn to look. "Sit down, darling."
BAM.
In one flash of black, the assassin was on the ground, wheezing and gasping on the cobblestone. Guards surged in, flooding the square, their pikes leveled at the assassin and his cowering party.
The assassin disappeared in what I assumed was a teleporting animation.
At the arrival of the guards, Midori's aura receded like an ebbing tide, though her disappointment lingered, like she wished she'd been allowed to finish him.
Then, a system window popped up with a soft chime.
———
This player has been removed from the city and temporarily banned for harassment of others in a safe zone.
———
Another quickly followed.
———
If you have witnessed this player's actions, please submit your testimony @xxxx.xxxx.lucidiaplayerreports.com.[1] Thank you for keeping this community safe.
— Lucidia Online Moderation Team
———
I blinked. I leaned, slumping against the doorframe. I breathed in and out.
Midori turned back to me, her voice steady again. She brushed her hair out of her face with her hand.
My heart trembled. Even injured, even with all this distance between us, even after my brain short-circuited everything that had happened, she was breathtakingly beautiful.
Oh, god.
I resisted the temptation to sniff her hairband.
I slapped my face.
AHHHHHH. No, Hiyomi, what were you thinking??? What is wrong with you??? Do you even know how to read the fucking room? (Area, but the same principle applies...)
"Ms. Hiyomi. Are you alright? Were you hurt?"
"I-I'm fine," I stammered. (No, I wasn't. That was a complete and utter lie. But I didn't want to seem weak, especially after Midori had borderline knight-saving-the-princess protected me.) I still felt the assassin's hand gripping my arm, the strong, clammy fingers digging into my skin. I breathed out.
I glanced at Midori's hand. It had shards of glass stuck deep inside it like teeth.
I shuddered.
By all rights, with that amount of damage, the shards should've shredded her palm—that glass should've torn through the flexor tendons and maybe even the palmar arch. She should have had problems functioning with the pain, and maybe even lost her finger function entirely.
Midori reached into her pocket, retrieving another vial, presumably a healing potion like she'd given me before. Her muscles in her hand flexed as she drank.
She didn't even flinch once as she did so.
What the hell is that kind of nerve response and body control—
...
Oooooooooh.
Oh, wait, this is a game.
Oopsies.
Forgot about that. (Hey, geniuses have brainlapses sometimes, okay???)
But… Midori should have still felt pain as an NPC, right? I half wanted to dart forwards, seize her palm, and perform surgery right then and there.
"Midori, your hand—"
Midori exhaled as if she were unraveling a tight knot of anger before regaining her composure. "It's nothing. I'm sorry that you had to see that." She strode back inside like the whole thing had been a minor inconvenience.
Jeez. Even injured, she was so cool… I felt a tremble of neediness work itself up my chest. I had to shake my head to cool myself off.
"Close the door, would you? There are quite a lot of onlookers outside." Midori headed behind the receptionist counter and pulled on a brown stained apron before stalking over to the ingredients shelf.
Midori's footsteps echoed louder than ever before on the wooden floor, tapping and clacking as the heels of her boots pressed neat dimples into the dust that had settled on the wooden floor.
The door closed with a pained squeak as I nudged it closed behind me. I stood there awkwardly, watching her go about her work as if nothing had happened.
"…T-Thank you," I mumbled.
Midori pulled on a pair of glasses similar to the one that had come with my alchemist uniform and a pair of worn gloves. "Not at all, Ms. Hiyomi. It was my job to, especially when a student of my school is being harassed."
It was just her job.
Nothing personal.
Sigh.
"What are you doing now?" I stepped closer.
Her response was short and clipped. "Remaking the vials I just used."
"Oh, can I watch—" My stomach growled, loud enough to echo. I froze midstep and almost visibly shrunk with embarrassment. Humiliation crept up my face like fire amongst thornbushes. "P-Please forget that."
For fuck's sake, sdssdsdfdssdfsssffsdsdfdsfds. ///
Midori's lips quivered faintly, as if she were going to smile or laugh. "Of course."
…Yeah. Okay. Time to log out. Tons to dooooooooo, you know, with the player report and the emails to the devs team, and to grab a bite to eat, and everything like that, ehe!
Huh? Why I'm talking so fast like this? No, it has nothing to do with my stomach grumbling in front of a waifu, ahahahahahah, what are you talking about~?
"I'll be going now." I pulled up the menu, flushing a deep crimson.
"Take care," Midori said softly. She plucked a dark tendril dripping with ink from a sealed container with tweezers and delicately set it down on a cutting board before whipping out a scalpel-looking tool, cutting it into neat, wedge-shaped slices.
"Y-Yeah. You too." Her voice sent pleasurable shudders up my spine.
I reluctantly tapped [Log out].
White light swallowed my vision as the world faded.
[1] should be pretty obvious but this isn't an actual website / email address lol