Chapter 53: Heavy Are The Shoulders

There was Fire. Smoke. The smell of blood and burning thatch thick enough to choke on.

Victor was running, or trying to, his legs felt heavier than they should’ve been. Around him the Southern Bloodline tribe was dying all over again, the Thousandfold Maw’s swarm blotting out the sky, screams cutting off one after another. Kiki’s face was mutilated as she stretched a hand, begging him.

“Help.” The words barely whispered.

By the other side was Jaja… no, what was left of him.

He was hung by his own intestine that extended outwards into nothing.

Flies buzzed around him. Then one fly flew towards Victor.

“Coward! Coward!! Coward!!!”

The other flies joined it.

Victor tripped and fell as he shooed them again.

His breathing hard. Then by his side was the boy.

The mutilated barbarian child he first killed. His eyes became mouths, “You are a COWARD.”

The scene buckled and folded, a sensation like falling through a gap.

As he fell, he went through the screen of the giant game console. Like he was kicked out of the game world, and kept falling anyway.

Then Hana was there, blushing, smiling at him the way she did the first time they met in the gate-town, teasing and warm.

Suddenly, blood spilled from the corner of her mouth.

A blade jutted from her chest, dark red spreading across her priest robes.

“I told you,” she said, still smiling, still so gentle, “I don’t forget a favor.”

—

“Wake up. Come on, son, wake up!”

Victor’s eyes snapped open to his father’s face hovering over him, hand on his shoulder.

He sat up too fast, chest heaving. His sheets were damp with sweat.

“You were murmuring again,” his father said, stepping back, concern written plain across his face. “It’s the third day in a row now. You gonna get up today or what?”

Victor rolled himself out of bed, pressing the heel of his palm against his eyes. His whole body still ached.

Apparently, using Berserker Instinct back to back, two days in a row was not the smartest idea.

“The working out really paid off,” his father said, eyeing him. “You look like you could bench the fridge.”

Victor just nodded, following him into the main room.

Victor headed for the kitchen that was tucked into one corner of the same space.

Since acquiring the cash he did, the kitchen had been worked on, and the fridge stocked full with food.

The TV was already on, muted murmurs of the morning news playing in the background.

He grabbed a bowl and poured himself a bowl of Rankcrunch, the box featuring some grinning Ranker swinging an oversized sword, then reached for the fridge.

“No milk? Dad! Please tell me you didn’t finish it all.”

“Me?” His father didn’t even look up. “Nobody in this house drinks more milk than you and you know it. Check the cupboard, I hid one for emergencies.”

Victor found it exactly where promised, poured it over the cereal, and sat down just as the news anchor’s voice sharpened behind him.

“…D-Ranker Paul of the Dawnbreak team has been formally charged with assault and the murder of a fellow teammate…”

So the Central Rankers Guild did hide the true story

like they said they would.

His father, eyes still on the screen, shook his head. “Shame. They looked like such a solid team too. Makes you wonder what went wrong between them.” A pause. “That’s the thing with you Rankers. All that strength, and the abilities. You never really know who’s actually on your side.”

“…Yeah. You don’t.”

Victor’s eyes dropped back to his bowl. He’d woken up starving. Now the cereal just looked like wet cardboard.

“Dad. Can you change it?”

His father glanced over, caught something in Victor’s expression, and switched the channel without another word.

The next segment was already covering the upcoming gala, Dungeon Conquest’s parent company celebrating their stock surge, nobles and celebrities confirmed to attend.

“Oh, that reminds me.” His father’s voice brightened. “I have that necklace thing to Mrs. Kelly like you said. She says it worked. Mr. Kelly’s doing better. Although he is still in the hospital for observation, but better. Maybe we swing by and check on him later?”

Victor stirred his cereal without really hearing it. “Yeah. Sure, Dad.”

His father studied him a moment, then set down his coffee. “I know becoming a Ranker is good news. Genuinely good. But I can tell something’s sitting on you, Victor.”

Victor said nothing.

It was not like he could tell his old man about the massacre in Dungeon Conquest or even the true reason for Hana’s death.

Right now, his shoulders just felt really heavy. And he really wished that he had someone to… really talk to.

Still, he gave a shallow smile to his father.

His father nodded, but added. “Just… remember you’re still young. You’ve got a whole life ahead of you. Live it first, okay?”

Victor nodded, not quite meeting his eyes.

He never did finish the cereal though.

Back in his room, the Dungeon Conquest console sat untouched in the bin he left it.

Even after cleaning his room, he never emptied it.

He could not bring himself to.

Still, he didn’t reach for it. He couldn’t.

Images flashed in his head, “COWARD!!!”

He grabbed his head, “fuck.”

A worry he had buried deep surfaced. He remembered Kiki’s words. If he did not show up for the challenge against Popo, Jaja would die.

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s just a damn video game.” He said those words, trying hard to gaslight himself, even though he knew better now.

Instead he sat on the edge of his bed and pulled up the forums on his phone, scrolling through chatter about recent raids in Dungeon Conquest, strategy threads, just the usual noise.

His eyes fell on his inbox. It showed over two thousand unread messages.

Most were other players requesting for hell or advise. Then sponsorship offers.

These were brands wanting photo appearances, or his face attached to their product for a season.

A surprising number weren’t even offering money, just merchandise, free shirts, product coupons, one cosmetics company offering to send an entire makeup kit he had zero use for.

It reminded him, uncomfortably, of how things used to go before the regression. Nadia would trail him to every appearance, and every event, glued to his side the moment the attention started rolling in.

Speaking of her.

He opened their chat. Just as expected, a string of unanswered messages waited for him.

Nadia: darling, when are we meeting again? i know you’re busy, big famous gamer and all that ??

He thought about the plan to have his revenge on her. That gala was in a week.

Milkshake22: you got a plus one for the Dungeon Conquest gala yet?

He stared at the message after sending it, thumb hovering, not actually ready to deal with whatever came back. He set the phone face-down on the bed instead, and laid back.

His mother’s death had been a wound he’d learned to live around over the years. With forgiving his father, it no longer stung like before.

But after Hana’s death, that familiar sting had returned. No.

This was different.

Hana’s death sat sharper, and fresher in his chest, refusing to just… go away.

Maybe it was the way she’d thrown herself in front of that blade for him. Willingly, after everything she’d done that same night.

This was the second time a person was throwing themselves in front of danger for him. First it was Jaja, and now Hana.

All this, it was just too much to handle. And he didn’t know what to do with all of it.

He wasn’t sure he was supposed to.

And then, an idea to his mind. A dumb one.

Victor stood to his feet. “Dad. I’m heading out first. I’ll meet you in the hospital later.”

“Okay.”

(Author’s note: I am in love with character depth. I hope you guys can feel them come to life.)