Chapter 219: Oliver Was The Player

After a chaotic, surprisingly peaceful breakfast where Nat nearly ran three red lights just to prove he could get them hot pancakes in record time, the group returned to the Reed estate.

​With the rest of the day completely clear ahead of tomorrow night’s banquet, the men immediately began competing for April’s time.

​"You need to maintain your flight reflexes," Xavier stated cleanly as they stepped into the main foyer, buttoning his suit jacket. "We have the rooftop helipad reserved. An hour of helicopter simulation and live maneuvers should do just fine for today’s lesson."

​"An hour? Please," Alexander scoffed, crossing his arms. "Don’t try to use an hour of aerial lessons as an excuse to rake up her whole day. April, you haven’t been behind the wheel in days, right? Let’s get behind the wheels to make sure your hands haven’t gotten rusty these past few days."

​Nat leaned against the doorway with a lazy grin, twirling his keys. "Why choose? I can teach you how to hotwire a military transport in five minutes flat. Far more practical."

​April looked at the three of them, her brows twitching with utter exhaustion. "No."

​She bypassed all of them, walked straight over to the velvet lounge in the living room, and kicked off her heels. Sinking back into the cushions, she pulled her phone out of her spatial dimension.

​"I’ve spent all morning dealing with funerals, family drama, and your endless squabbling," April said flatly, tapping the screen. "Right now, I’m not going to listen to anyone. I’m just going to sit back, relax, and play games."

​She opened her favorite mobile game—Winecraft.

​Across the room, Dr. Oliver Baxter paused, his pen halting mid-air over his tablet. His head snapped toward her, his glasses glinting under the chandelier lights.

​"You have an interest in Winecraft as well?" Oliver asked, stepping forward with rare, uncharacteristic enthusiasm. "I do, in fact, play the game."

​Alexander frowned, glancing over at the doctor. "So what? I play it too." He folded his arms. "In fact, April puts me through it whenever she can."

​"Playing it casually and understanding its mechanics are two entirely different matters, Mr. Greels," Oliver replied calmly, adjusting his glasses with a single finger. "I have been actively building and optimizing servers in Winecraft for five years. My redstone-equivalent logic circuits and automated fortresses are mathematically flawless. Miss April, if you require strategic pointers or defense layout advice, I would be happy to consult."

​April didn’t look up from her screen, but her thumb paused over a specific building block.

​In Winecraft, April had spent weeks meticulously constructing her main fortress. But every time, a single, incredibly annoying player had continuously breached her outer perimeters, tested her trap layouts, and dismantled her defenses with terrifying precision.

​Every time she rebuilt, that player returned—never to destroy her base completely, but to leave behind intricate, highly complex structural challenges that forced her to level up her building skills.

She had spent countless late nights staring at her screen, furiously trying to outsmart them, constantly asking herself: Is this player a friend or a foe?

​It had driven her crazy, but it was also the one mindless distraction that kept her sane.

​"Oh yeah?" April murmured, her dark eyes narrowing slightly at her phone screen. "What’s your username?"

​"My tag is clinical_arch42," Oliver stated matter-of-factly, pulling his own high-spec phone from his lab coat. "I currently occupy the top regional rank in fortress architecture. My primary base features a distinctive, multi-colored beacon box in the central courtyard to signify maximum power distribution."

​April’s thumb completely froze.

​Her head slowly, mechanically turned toward Oliver.

​She remembered that base. She had spent three weeks trying to raid that exact multi-colored beacon courtyard.

​"Clinical_arch42..." April breathed out, her jaw tightening as the realization slammed into her like a freight train. "The guy who blew up my lava-moat three days ago... and left a sign saying ’Sub-optimal fluid dynamics’?"

​Oliver blinked, tapping his screen to display his avatar and the exact colorful, pristine courtyard April knew all too well. "Ah. You are Shadow_Seer99? Your trap designs were mathematically fascinating, though terribly inefficient in energy consumption. I was simply stress-testing your perimeter."

​April stared at him, complete shock washing over her face before her eyes narrowed into sharp slits. "It was you... It was you all along! You’re the nuisance who kept rebuilding my redstone doors backwards?!"

​"I was correcting your logic gates," Oliver corrected smoothly, entirely unbothered by her rising glare. "If you had applied proper binary flow, your gates wouldn’t have lagged under zombie-horde simulations."

​Alexander, Nat, and Xavier all stood there in complete, dead silence, staring between April and Oliver as the two of them instantly launched into a dense, rapid-fire debate about block placement, spatial ratios, and server terrain generation that none of the other men could hope to follow.

Even Alexander who was playing the game was too much of a newbie to understand any of that.

​Before Nat could interject to break up the unexpected game-bonding, Xavier’s phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. He pulled it out, his eyes sweeping over the message before his expression hardened.

​"I have to head out," Xavier announced, his tone shifting back to pure business. "The shipping manifests just arrived at the harbor. I need to oversee the transfer personally."

​Nat checked his own phone, letting out a sharp click of his tongue. "Right on cue. My boys at the black market just pinged me—some idiot is trying to intercept our shadow asset weapons trade. I’ll head out with you, Reed. But sweetheart..." Nat’s eyes flicked over to April with a smirk, "...I’ll be back in time for dinner."

​Alexander scoffed, leaning back against the sofa. "Go ahead, you two. I have no urgent meetings today. I can stay as long as I—"

​Ring! Ring! Ring!

​Alexander froze. He pulled out his phone, and the moment he saw the caller ID—Grandfather—a visible wave of irritation crossed his face. He swiped to answer, stepping toward the window.

​"Yes, Grandfather... No, I am currently occupied... What? The meeting was moved up to today?" Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a heavy sigh. "Fine. I’m on my way."

​He hung up, turning back to April with an apologetic smile. "Duty calls, unfortunately. My old man is dragging me into a family meeting."

​Within five minutes, the glass front doors clicked shut, leaving the grand estate quiet once again.

​Sitting in the lounge, April let out a long, peaceful breath. The sudden silence in the mansion was bliss.

​Dr. Oliver Baxter remained comfortably seated in an armchair across from her, casually tapping away on his phone as he sent her an in-game friend request. Nearby, Emily smiled softly, looking around the peaceful room.

​"I can go to the kitchen and get us some snacks," Emily offered gently, attempting to stand up, but ​April immediately reached out, catching her twin’s hand and pulling her back down onto the soft cushions.

​"Don’t worry about it, Emily," April said softly, her dark eyes softening with affection. "The estate helpers will handle the food. You’ve had a long day... just relax."