Chapter 101: A CAPSULE FOR MIRA

I sat back on the bedroom sofa with a cup of jasmine tea in my hand, while Mira knelt on the carpet in front of me, her face full of curiosity.

This has become our habit ever since I started playing Second World Online. The moment I came out of the capsule, Mira would be waiting with a tray of tea and a plate of light snacks. Afterward, I would tell her about whatever had happened there. Over the past two years, while my condition worsened, this part had often been cut short by coughing or by exhaustion that sent me straight to sleep. Not anymore. Now I could talk at length without having to stop every few minutes to catch my breath.

“So,” Mira said, tilting her head, “what was that church you cleaned, exactly? Why didn’t you just ask someone else to do it?”

“Because it’s part of a quest,” I answered, sipping my tea. “A sub-quest, to be precise. The head priest at the city church asked me to clean the lost temple of the Moon Goddess. That ruined church isn’t necessarily the temple, but there’s a crescent moon carved on its altar, so it’s most likely connected.”

Then I told her everything from the beginning: the library, the three encyclopedias I’d finished in a single day, the 15 SP the system had robbed me of, and the ancient manuscript I’d finally managed to translate. I told her about the Mirror Lake riddle, the starless night I didn’t understand, and the long journey through the forest full of ghosts.

Mira listened with sparkling eyes, occasionally covering her mouth with her palm.

“Wait, wait,” she cut in when I reached the part about cleaning the church. “So you, Young Master, in the form of an albino Elf girl in a white military uniform, were holding a palm-fiber broom and wiping down an altar?”

“Yes.”

“For eight hours?”

“Eight game hours. Two hours here.”

Mira couldn’t hold it in any longer. She laughed until her shoulders shook, then quickly covered her mouth, feeling it was impolite.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said between laughs. “It’s just that, imagining the Young Master who blew up a castle gate with a bomb, held off thousands of troops alone, and created the first firearm on the server, is now busy sweeping dust and grumbling about spiders…”

“I wasn’t grumbling,” I protested.

“You were grumbling.”

“I was simply delivering an efficiency evaluation.”

“That’s called grumbling.”

I snorted, hiding my smile behind the cup. Mira’s laughter was always like this, warm and sincere, and at some point it had become one of my favorite sounds in the world.

She wiped the corner of her eye, wet from laughing. “So, what happened after that?”

I told her the rest: the tent, the repellent, and finally logging out in that old church. Mira kept nodding, asking about small things now and then. What did a Specter look like? What did it feel like to walk in that world? Could you really feel the wind on your skin? Was the food really as delicious as people said?

Her questions grew deeper and deeper. Then, slowly, her tone changed.

At first, I didn’t notice.

Mira was still smiling as she listened to my story about the “Red Dragon” Tavern and the five-star food buffs. But every time I mentioned the names Alya, Lumina, Flora, or Yuna, something shifted in her eyes. It wasn’t jealousy. Mira wasn’t someone who got jealous easily. It was more like a restrained longing.

When I finished talking, she fell silent. Her fingers toyed with the end of her maid uniform’s sleeve, and her gaze dropped to the carpet.

“That world must be so beautiful,” she said softly. “You can run, jump, and hunt there. Together with Miss Alya, with your friends…”

I set the cup on the table and watched her.

“Maybe there, Young Master can spend more time with the people you care about,” she continued, her voice growing smaller. “While I… I can only wait here, preparing tea and looking after the capsule.”

There was a pause that felt longer than it should have.

“I’m only a maid,” she whispered, almost to herself. “Even now… even now that you and I… I often feel unworthy. Your family has even approved of us, but still I feel… I don’t belong standing beside someone like you.”

I didn’t answer right away.

I had known Mira since I was little. Ever since she was first hired in this house as a young assistant maid, she had always been around me. She was the one who fed me porridge when I had a fever, who secretly slipped candy into my pocket whenever I was made to study late into the night. She was also the one who waited at the edge of the field with a towel and a water bottle every time I practiced archery, and who always sat at the far end of the stands whenever I competed.

Then two years ago, when I was eighteen and the doctor said the word leukemia for the first time, Mira was the one who never left my side. She stayed with me in the hospital when my first chemotherapy left me vomiting all night. She covered for my fear in the dark room when the numbers on my lab results didn’t favor me.

And through all that time, from my childhood until now, she had always kept herself one step behind me.

Even now, with her status changed, the habit hasn’t gone away.

I slid off the sofa and sat on the carpet right in front of her. Mira was startled and instinctively tried to back away, but I gently held her shoulder. My hand rose and softly patted her head. Her black hair was smooth and warm beneath my palm.

“Mira,” I said quietly.

She looked up, her eyes glistening.

“Don’t feel inferior,” I went on. “You’re not just a maid to me. You’re the person who has been with me since I was a kid, and who didn’t leave when I barely had a future. If anyone is unworthy, maybe it’s me, for making you wait this long.”

“Young Master…”

“And one more thing.” I smiled slightly. “If there’s something you want, just say it. I don’t want to keep guessing what’s in your head anymore. I’ve already done enough guessing with the minds of that game’s Developers.”

Mira blinked. The corners of her lips trembled between a smile and tears. She bit her lower lip, hesitation plain on her face. Her fingers clenched in her lap, and several seconds that felt very long passed in the silence of the room.

Finally, in a voice barely audible, she said:

“I want to go there too.”

I stayed quiet, letting her continue.

“I want to go to that game world with you, Young Master. I want to accompany you there, see the world you always tell me about, and… and not just wait here.” Tears had already gathered at the edges of her eyes. “I know this is a presumptuous request. I know game capsules are expensive and rare. But…”

“Oh, that’s easy.”

Mira froze.

“Eh?”

“That’s easy,” I repeated, almost amused by her bewildered expression.

“But… but isn’t the stock of game capsules and game glasses sold out across the whole city? I once heard the Master say so. He said even the new player batch hasn’t been opened.”

“That’s true,” I replied with a nod. “Retail stock is completely sold out. The third batch, supposedly ten thousand new players, can’t be opened anytime soon because the process takes time. But Mira, whose son am I?”

Mira blinked, then slowly her eyes widened. She covered her mouth with both hands.

“The largest shareholder of Chronos Tech is my father,” I continued with a faint smile. “When it comes to just one capsule unit, he can surely arrange it. Besides, I’ve hardly asked him for anything since I got sick. Just this once is fine.”

I reached for my phone from the side table and scrolled through my contacts. Mira hurriedly grabbed my arm.

“Young Master, there’s no need to do it now! It’s already late, the Master might be busy…”

“That’s exactly why I have to call now, before I change my mind and tell you to wait for the third batch.”

I pressed the call button and turned on the speaker. The ringtone sounded twice.

“Rian?” My father’s deep, calm voice came from the other end. There was a brief pause, then his tone turned warmer. “It’s rare for you to call at this hour. What is it? Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, Father,” I answered, glancing at Mira, who now sat stiffly with a crimson face. “I want to ask for something.”

There was a brief silence. From the other end came the sound of a leather chair shifting, like someone suddenly straightening his back.

“Go ahead.”

“I want one game capsule unit,” I said. “For Mira.”

Mira held her breath beside me.

There was no answer for several seconds. I wondered whether the signal had dropped, or whether my request had been too much. Then I heard a low laugh, brief and genuine, a laugh I hadn’t heard from my father in a long time.

“Very well,” he said. “It’ll arrive at the house tomorrow morning. The technical team will come to install it in whichever room you choose, complete with synchronization and character scanning.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“No need to thank me.” His voice sounded gentler than usual, as if something had made him happy. “Tell Mira, welcome aboard. And Rian…”

“Yes, Father?”

“Take good care of her there.”

“I will.”

The call ended. I set the phone on the table and turned to Mira. My father’s tone had made me frown for a moment, since he’d sounded far more cheerful than usual. But maybe he was simply in a good mood.

Before I could open my mouth, Mira had already thrown herself at me.

She hugged me tightly, so tightly I nearly lost my balance and fell backward. Her face was buried in my chest, and both her arms wrapped firmly around my back. Her body trembled faintly.

“Mira?”

There was no answer. Only her ragged breathing, and then I felt it: a damp warmth slowly seeping into my shirt.

She was crying.

It wasn’t loud crying, but the restrained kind, like someone who had kept something inside for a long time and was only now daring to let it go. I raised my hand and wrapped it around her shoulders, slowly rubbing her back.

“Thank you,” she whispered brokenly. “Thank you, Young Master. Thank you… I… I’m truly happy.”

“Hey,” I said gently, “why are you crying? I only made a phone call.”

“It’s not because of the capsule.” She shook her head against my chest. “It’s because you said I was allowed to ask. All this time I’ve always been afraid. Afraid of asking for too much, afraid of being seen as greedy, afraid you’d feel burdened. But you… you didn’t mind at all.”

I smiled, held her closer, and rested my chin on top of her head.

“Mira,” I said quietly. “Since I was little, you’ve given me so much without ever asking for anything. This game capsule isn’t even a fraction of what you’ve given me. So from now on, don’t hesitate anymore, okay?”

She nodded in my embrace, still sobbing, but this time I could feel the smile behind her tears.

We stayed like that for quite a while. Outside the window, the city lights twinkled in the distance, and the night wind blew softly, stirring the curtains. My tea had gone cold, but I didn’t care.

After a few minutes, her crying subsided. Mira pulled back slightly, wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, and laughed shyly.

“Sorry, I made your shirt wet.”

“It’s fine. I have plenty of shirts.”

“Young Master,” she said, her voice still hoarse but her eyes shining, “if the capsule really arrives tomorrow, I’ll have so much to learn. I need to know how to use it, how to make a character, how to fight… Ah, I haven’t even decided which race to pick!”

“We can start there,” I said, holding back a laugh. “But there’s one thing you have to remember. Characters there are made from a scan of your real body, so you can’t choose freely. That’s why I became an albino Elf.”

“Ah, that’s right.” Mira patted her own cheeks. “So that means I’ll be… like myself?”

“Maybe the best version of yourself,” I replied with a shrug. “And I’m very curious how it’ll turn out.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she immediately lowered her head in embarrassment. I couldn’t help smiling. A few minutes ago she had been crying against my chest, and now her face was red as a tomato over one simple sentence.

Then, as if remembering something, Mira lifted her head with an anxious expression.

“But Young Master, what about our bodies while we’re in there? I’m usually the one who monitors your vital signs. If I go in too, who will keep watch?”

“Doctor Karin’s medical team has prepared an automatic monitoring system,” I answered. “Besides, the capsule records the body’s condition every second. If anything goes wrong, an alarm will sound in the control room, and a nurse will come right away. And my condition has been much more stable since the remission was confirmed.”

Mira nodded slowly, relieved but still hesitant. “Alright. But I’ll still have the nurse check in every few hours.”

“Of course.”

“And you still have to eat regularly.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

She laughed and lightly hit my arm. I laughed along.

That night we spent hours talking, no longer about quests or monsters, but about small things. What would Mira do first once she entered the game world? What food should she taste first? What would Alya’s face look like when she learned Mira was joining us? And what would Arthur’s expression be if he ever found out all these secrets?

The questions flowed out one by one, and one by one Mira’s smile grew wider. The lamplight fell across her face, and I realized how much I liked this sight.

Tomorrow, I thought, gazing at the ceiling. Tomorrow our world will gain one more person.

And for the first time in a long while, I couldn’t wait for morning.