Mirra’s face said all it needed to; she’d been running a chaos managent operation for Rogue so long she’d built a sticker sheet in her head, and right now half the columns were throwing errors.
Because on Monday that adorable two-foot wolf girl had been, you know, squeezable, but today she was six-foot-six in gleaming platinum armour, hefting a sword that probably cost more than Mirra’s car.
Mirra wiggled her staff out of the dirt with the solemn pride of soone pretending this was totally normal.
Mirra stepped forward, rubbing her temples. She looked like she was dealing with a very difficult step-son. "I spent three days wondering if our little wolf-girl got eaten by a goblin, and instead, you’ve been out here looking like that." She glanced at the heavy platinum plates covering his chest and arms, each engraved with elaborate designs. "And where did you get all this? You look like you robbed the royal treasury."
"I’ve been busy," Liam said bluntly. He didn’t ntion the Ogre or the God of the Kitchen title; he didn’t feel like explaining his life story to a kid with wolf-blood on his sneakers. He looked at their battered gear and low HP bars. "And I’m balling. Our rent is five gold, and I’ve got over a hundred in the bank."
Rogue skulked around Liam in a wide circle, jaw hanging. "Bro...I held you as a puppy plushie! I used you as a stress ball. Now you’re standing here like a walking ’get out of my way’ sign. ’My four silver can’t stretch that far."
Elizabeth tucked a strand of pink hair back behind her ear, tail giving a proud flick. "Liam bought my rapier," she said, beaming, "because I’m his partner."
Mirra blinked at Elizabeth, then at Liam. At that one word, partner, floating in the air like a surprise party.
Liam didn’t even flinch louder than any reaction. "Partner," Mirra echoed, ntally filing it under ’things I’ll need to worry about later.’ Then, with the tone of a manager trying not to groan, "Rember when you charged us extra salt for stew?"
"Business investnt," Liam said cheerfully, turning south. "You two are coming; it’s a completionist run. We need Truffle-Hog Snouts before the southern sector resets. Mirra, slow things down. Rogue, mop up the stragglers. Move out."
Rogue’s voice squeaked: "Are...are we being kidnapped?"
"Recruited," Liam corrected, tapping his boot. "Pick up your daggers, Min-ho. We’ve got a forest to clear."
Mirra sighed like she’d been waiting centuries for this mont, yanked up her staff, and followed along. "Sa old Liam. Just a much bigger, scarier version. Lead the way, Big Guy."
The southern sector of Tana Forest was filed as "You’re definitely being watched" bioluminescent moss, twisted roots, that damp, claustrophobic shadow that makes you jog without realising why. Perfect for atmosphere, less perfect for Rogue, who’d been jogging backward around Liam for ten minutes with his neck at an alarming angle.
"This math is insane," Rogue whispered, okay, more like stage-whispered.
"Monday, you were fluff. I literally hugged you you. NOW you’re Titan with a side of ’I cost more than your rent.’ Also, the party’s glow-up is epic." wagging his eyebrows. "The ’Small Wolf Girl’ to ’Alpha Chad’ pipeline is insane, and the kitten over there went from ’Scout’ to ’Main Love Interest’ real quick. Those genetics are doing overti, Liam."
Liam crunched through fallen branches like they were snack wrappers. "Yours must’ve been half-off," he said without missing a beat. "Sa height, sa mouth."
"HEY!" Elizabeth and Mirra snapped in perfect harmony, faces flaming. Then they stared at each other, stunned: "Oh wow, we agree on sothing."
Elizabeth’s tail was wagging in victory. "That is so unnecessary. Don’t be that guy just ’cause you can see over the treetops."
"I’m not joking. Now shut up. We have aggro."
Level 12 Tana Shadow-Foxes burst from the underbrush with slick Blink-strike precision.
"Rogue, left flank. Mirra, frost the ground. Elizabeth, the third fox is coming wide, slice it." Liam’s voice shifted into "no-fluff combat mode."
Mirra slamd her staff down. Frost Nova blood from the ground, spreading into a sheet of blue-white ice and sending two foxes sliding uncontrollably across it.
Rogue flashed his daggers at two foxes, spinning and striking fast. Elizabeth lunged at the third fox, her rapier slicing wide as instructed. anwhile, Liam strolled through the aftermath, palm out, letting Absorption finish off whatever remained. The foxes disappeared. Silence fell.
Rogue gawked at the three scorched frost-patches. Then back to Liam. Then the patches again. "Dude, the craziest part isn’t the level gap. It’s that you look mildly annoyed, like your groceries are throwing a tantrum." He fished out his stream cara. "This is content gold."
"They are," Liam murmured, checking his Absorption bar. 14/1000. Level 2.
He needed more. The hidden recipe pulsed in the corner of his HUD like a Tinder match waiting to be swiped right. Ahead, the forest grew darker, moss glow thicker, roots more gnarled, and the air simred with sothing not quite a sound, not quite a sll. Definitely a signal.
He glanced at his team: Rogue angle-adjusting his cara, Mirra rolling her shoulders like she’d signed up for this exact mont, Elizabeth stroking her rapier with blissful focus.
"Deeper," Liam said.
"How much deeper?" Mirra asked, already too tired to care.
Liam’s eyes flicked to the blinking recipe icon, the 0.1% hidden-zone chance, and the 412 mobs already fard today. "Until sothing interesting happens."
Sowhere, forty ters ahead, a grove uncharted by any beta-player map, the oldest roots began to glow.
[TOOL TIP: THE "GENETIC OVERCLOCK" RECRUITNT]
Status:Chaos Managent Operation (now under new, taller leadership).
The Party: A six-foot-six "Titan" Liam, a "main love interest" Elizabeth, and two very confused, currently experiencing what is legally known as a "forced promotion."
Tactical Update: Liam has transitioned from "puppy plushie" to a walking "get out of my way" sign, primarily by spending a royal treasury’s worth of gold on gear and using boss essences as a protein shake.
Inner Logic: To Liam, charging extra for salt was a "business investnt"; kidnapping his old party for a completionist run is just "resource optimisation."
Social Warning: Calling the Paladin a "main NPC love interest" is a high-risk maneuver that results in imdiate, synchronised aggression from the backline.
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