Tutorial 3

In a narrow and shabby street lined with shops, another NPC ran away from his female avatar, screaming in terror. The shrill sound could have shattered glass, piercing through his cat-eared headphones. He winced, fumbling for the volume controls to save his ears.

"Damn," he muttered, lifting one side of the headset to wiggle a knuckle into his ear. "Th-the, um, sound design is really something else."

The female NPC kept running, disappearing around a corner. That made the twentieth person in the last ten minutes since he started his stream. He was almost tempted to give chase, to make them pay for running away; it was starting to become downright annoying.

With a sigh, he adjusted his glasses, the screen's reflection glinting off the lenses. He turned to his chat, watching the comments scroll by, a mix of mockery and genuine advice.

"Ch-chat, what can I do?" he stammered, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "You all told me yesterday that killing all those mobs wasn't going to ruin things. Now, I, uhm, I can't even talk to anyone without them freaking out and running away! Is there anything else I can try to fix this?"

...

ConfusedToad: lol thats what u get for slaughtering every NPC in sight, noob

DabbyDabster: LMFAOOOOO

BooBooBooBooboo: omg i love u so much lmao

NotYourAvatar: nah fam just murder some more people

ShyLibrarian: go to a different city or country?

...

The young man scanned the messages, hoping for a useful suggestion among the nonsense. If there was one thing that was a downside to suddenly rising in viewership, it was that most people didn't seem to be able to tell him anything helpful. He supposed he should be glad that they were even trying, but the advice was... well, less than optimal. Not that he wasn't grateful for the growing popularity: the only problem was that now, it was getting harder and harder to keep up with all the sudden demands for attention and engagement.

It didn't help that he was still relatively new to streaming, despite being a fan of watching others play games for years.

As he walked, he passed a variety of furniture—chairs, tables, and other odd pieces—left unattended along the fronts of various businesses. He scooped them up, one by one, adding them to his inventory with a satisfying clunk, clunk, clunk. It was almost absurd how these environmental items were just free for the taking, costing him nothing. He'd heard you could make a base in the game, and it seemed he now had plenty of decorations to start with.

Was there really no limit to what he could take?

...

Miss Sugar: there's some skills that u can pick that'll help

NyaBot: increase your charisma more

...

LookingForGothMommy: lvl up and pick some skills thatll help wih diplomacy

Sinner6969: just kill all of them!

CthuluDad: lol lol how is your reputation already so bad

Mockroach: pick up shapeshifting, it'll come in handy

...

"Okay," the man said, nodding to himself. "Th-thanks again for helping me, everyone. I'll keep doing my best."

He paused, scratching the back of his head.

"I-I guess that's my plan now, huh? I'm pretty close to Level 3 so it shouldn't take long."

He took a deep breath, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And, uh, again, thanks for the support, guys. I, uh, hope you're enjoying the stream so far."

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< HELPFUL TIPS! >

Don't underestimate the power of Charisma. A high Charisma attribute can turn the tide in diplomatic encounters, allowing you to persuade NPCs, negotiate better deals, and even avoid conflicts altogether. Whether you're convincing a security guard to let you pass or mediating between rival groups, having a silver tongue can sometimes open doors that brute force can't.

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[CHAPTER FOUR]

「Lisa Wilbourn (Tattletale)」

"Officials are urging all residents to remain vigilant and take extra precautions when out and about. They have issued an urgent plea for the public to report any sightings of the Cape the PRT has dubbed 'Silver'..."

Dainty fingers danced over laptop keys with practiced ease; the rapid clack-clack-clack formed a steady rhythm that merged seamlessly with the low hum of the television in the background. The soft glow from both screens provided the only light in the otherwise dark room, casting an ambient halo around Lisa Wilbourn's petite figure. She nestled comfortably on the couch, her back against the sofa's armrest, laptop perched on her thighs, feet stretched out toward the other end. The scent of cold pizza and stale coffee hung in the air, a testament to the long hours already spent working.

"...Last night, the current Director of the PRT-ENE, Emily Piggot, had this to say..."

"...Rest assured, we're doing everything in our power to locate and apprehend this criminal, and we ask the public to stay calm and avoid panic... efforts have been doubled to ensure the safety of all residents in the city... we will not let the tragedy that happened a few hours ago happen again... more patrols... trust in the authorities..."

A long, weary yawn escaped her lips as she stretched—arms high above her head, fingers interlocked, spine arching in a gentle curve. The soft cracking of her joints brought a sweet, subtle relief from hours spent researching and noting down everything her power could learn about the latest Cape causing trouble in the city. She sighed, blinking away the bleary-eyed exhaustion that clouded her vision.

Fucking Coil.

"...We urge people not to approach the suspect if encountered, instead, to call the hotline provided. Silver is a dangerous and highly unstable Parahuman, and all who spot her are strongly encouraged to contact the PRT immediately..."

Something about the new Cape was bothering her 'boss' more than it bothered the rest of the city—and that was saying something, considering how up in arms most of the public were about the new Parahuman. It was apparent in the way he ordered her to immediately seek out information on the supposed new Trigger the moment news of the Cape reached his ears. It was apparent in the terse, curt manner he had barked out the orders, and how he had hung up without even bothering to listen to her replies. And it was apparent in the way he wanted every tiny detail recorded, as though he was desperately hoping to glean a hidden answer from her investigation.

Lisa didn't need to ask why. Her power filled in the blanks: his supposed power 'over destiny' had very obviously failed him for once. The exact failure eluded her, but his usual self-assured confidence was nowhere to be found when he called. Instead, the man's ever-present smugness was replaced by a nervous, almost anxious impatience.

"...Silver's last confirmed location was... it is unknown what the exact nature of her powers are, but she has shown the ability to... the police have confirmed that two officers... survivors are currently hospitalized, but are said to be in stable condition..."

Was it actually because of the new Cape? Or was there another factor at play, one that she couldn't see just yet? Either way, it sparked ideas—Coil wasn't as infallible as he thought. And that was a fact she could work with.

If she wasn't suffering from a throbbing Thinker-headache, she would have smirked at the thought. Unfortunately, her head felt like it was being repeatedly pummeled with a hammer, and her thoughts swam through a thick fog of muddled exhaustion.

Another drawn out yawn escaped her. A hand rose to cover her mouth, while the other idly scrolled through PHO on her laptop. The headache wasn't going to get better unless she rested. She knew that. But so far, nothing her power was feeding her seemed useful—or at least, not in the same way the usual sort of information she dug up was useful.

Lisa typically unearthed weaknesses, vulnerabilities, secrets, scandals, or skeletons in closets—anything she could exploit. The information she gathered could be wielded for blackmail, negotiation, coercion, and sometimes simple persuasion.

There was a reason she liked to joke she was a psychic, after all.

It was an exaggeration, sure, but her power allowed her to see through the layers upon layers of lies, secrets and misdirection most people used to hide the truth. She liked to think there was nothing she couldn't uncover, no truth she couldn't dig up given enough time. But right now, she was drawing up... not exactly a blank. More like... nothing particularly useful.

Her pride stung a little, if she was honest with herself.

Recent Trigger. Average physical fitness, average athletic ability, average combat skill, average speed, average strength. Average, average, average, average, average. That's what her enhanced intuition told her about the new Parahuman. Silver, or Seraph, the girl's actual name according to her power—

Not a Cape name either, apparently; it was the girl's real name. Who names their child Seraph?

—was supposedly, well… underwhelming. The only thing that wasn't average was apparently the girl's charisma, which was slightly above average.

(What...?)

And therein lay the problem.

Lisa knew, objectively, that the girl wasn't quite as unskilled in a fight as her power was telling her. She'd seen videos herself; she wasn't blind, though she still couldn't believe Void Cowboy was the one uploading the most useful clips. Even a layman could discern the girl's natural prowess—the grace and fluidity in her movements made violence seem as effortless as breathing.

There was an undeniable smoothness, a subtle elegance and grace that amateur fighters lacked. The girl clearly had experience—several years' worth, her power told her, or perhaps a Combat Thinker ability. So why the hell was her power also insisting the girl was average in combat?

Doesn't feel pain. Emotionless. Socially inept. Cognitive impairment. Uncaring. Lacking empathy. Unable to process trauma. Doesn't know fear. Doesn't know love. Doesn't know remorse. Doesn't know regret. Doesn't know happiness. Doesn't know sadness. Doesn't feel anger. Sociopath. Psychopath. Can't comprehend death. Can't make connections.

Those were the other impressions her power gave her, the conclusions it drew... and yet, the girl possessed above-average charisma?

What did that even mean?

The whole situation left Lisa frustrated. None of the information her power provided helped her understand what made the girl tick. It fixated on details that seemed significant but weren't. Natural white hair? Why was that so important? And it omitted crucial details like the girl's past and identity; her power simply had nothing to offer in that regard.

Normally, observing someone with her power was akin to reading their autobiography. Given enough time, she could even do a thorough read—the type that allowed her to almost feel the person's personality, emotions, and even catch glimpses into the deepest, most confidential aspects of their life.

But with the girl? All she received was surface-level insight. In fact, it seemed her power couldn't penetrate beyond the surface. It was as if the girl had no depth, no layers, no secrets, no past. Just the here and now, with nothing more to offer.

"...There is an ongoing fundraiser... those wishing to support the victims and their families are asked to donate here..."

Left with nothing, it made her mind jump from conclusion to conclusion, from observation to observation, until she was left feeling confused and lost. It was like trying to piece together a puzzle that refused to form a coherent picture.

Lisa despised it. The confusion, the uncertainty, the feeling of being blindfolded in a maze—all of it grated on her. Not understanding, not knowing, not seeing clearly, not figuring it out—it made her feel uneasy, vulnerable. After thinking about it for a while though, it was pretty clear that the girl most likely had another—much more subtle—power that spoofed her Thinker abilities; it would certainly explain her power's contradictory claims. It made sense, and her power eventually confirmed it was the most likely scenario.

She was still annoyed though.

It was like there was a blind spot, and she was trying desperately to compensate for it, to force the blind spot away, but failing miserably. Every time her power focused on the new Trigger, it kept insisting that she should understand, but the information was always just a little off, a little skewed, a little too vague, or too general, or too needlessly specific.

Maybe if she saw the girl in person, then perhaps her power would start giving her answers that made more sense.

Naturally, Lisa wasn't telling Coil that; her 'employer' was getting exactly what she would give him. She wasn't going to tell him that, right now, she was essentially just grasping at straws. She'd never live it down, and he would likely take it as an insult. He wasn't exactly very accomodating.

Ugh. She needed a break. A sigh escaped her lips. Maybe it was time to call it quits. At this point, it felt like a futile waste of her time.

Footsteps approached, the soft, almost imperceptible sounds of bare feet on the hard floor barely audible over the sound of the TV. She winced when the lights suddenly turned on, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden brightness.

"Shit," Lisa grumbled, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. The sharp twinge of pain made her wince. She could feel the dull throb of her migraine intensifying with each passing moment, a sharp, piercing sensation that seemed to drill straight through her forehead. "Ow. Turn it off, would you?"

The light flicked on and off several times: a deliberate, obnoxious attempt to annoy her. Lisa didn't have the energy to do anything else but grimace, so she merely groaned in response while covering her eyes with a hand. She could hear Alec's amused snicker, and she blindly searched for a pillow she'd left on the floor earlier. When her fingers closed around the soft cushion, she hurled it in the direction of the sound.

"Goddammit Alec," Lisa groused, scowling, "stop fucking with the lights. Not in the mood."

The sound of laughter only got louder, and she could almost imagine him in that moment, a shit-eating grin on his lips. "You're always 'not in the mood', Tats," Alec snarked back, his voice carrying an exaggerated whine. The lights turned on again, and this time, it stayed on, forcing her to blink a couple of times to adjust her vision. When the spots faded, she looked up and saw him leaning against the wall, bed hair sticking out at odd angles. "Why are you even sitting in the dark like some sort of creepy vampire anyway?"

"I've been doing some digging for the boss," Lisa replied with a sigh, setting her laptop aside and rubbing her tired eyes. The dull ache persisted, a steady throb at the base of her skull.

"Oh," he nodded sagely, "of course. Research. And here I thought you'd gone mad and started watching the news for fun. I mean, look at you, it's like you had a party! But working overnight? Wow, I'm proud of you, Tats. Really. You're such a diligent employee. Truly an inspiration."

She scanned the table for the bottle of painkillers, frowning when she found it empty. "Don't be an ass, Alec."

Lisa heard footsteps approaching behind her, and from the corner of her eye, she watched him saunter over, making a grand show of looking around. He didn't say a word either, just swivelled his head around in an exaggerated movements as he glanced at the empty boxes, cans and wrappers that were strewn haphazardly on the floor. She could see him taking in the mess, and a small, lazy smirk was on his face when he finally looked back at her.

"What?" she snapped, her tone sharp and defensive.

"I hope you didn't make a mess and sweat all over that very expensive couch," he quipped, wrinkling his nose as he gave her an obvious once-over. "You reek."

Another pillow was thrown at his face, but Alec batted it away. "Says the person who sits on this couch for hours every day. Don't be a dick," Lisa retorted with a snort, shooting him a pointed glare. The last thing she needed was for Alec to try and get on her nerves. "Sometimes I wish I could forget what my power's told me you've done in this very spot. Ugh."

Alec merely shrugged.

"And I paid for this couch too! Remember that!" she snapped.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, a crooked smile on his lips. "Geez, you're going to be fun dealing with today. I can already tell."

Lisa sighed heavily, rubbing her face with a hand. She really wasn't in the mood for this. Not now. "Look, whatever it is you're here for, just spit it out. I don't want to deal—"

The TV abruptly cut her off with an urgent tone. The familiar jingle and incessant beeping of a breaking news broadcast filled the room. Both of them paused, eyes fixed on the screen as a serious-looking woman appeared.

"...We interrupt this program with a breaking news announcement," the anchor began, her expression grim. "Moments ago, the Parahuman known as Silver was spotted in Heritage Park. Witnesses report the highly unstable Cape was fishing in one of the ponds before local authorities intervened…"

The screen shifted to a live feed from the park. Helicopter footage showed a chaotic scene: flashing lights, a large crowd, a throng of police cars and PRT vans. There was a group of officers in tactical gear with riot shields, even more PRT troopers in full body armour, and the entire area had been cordoned off. Two heroes—Armsmaster and Miss Militia, Lisa guessed—could be seen engaging the target.

"...The situation quickly escalated into a confrontation," the anchor continued. "Multiple officers are confirmed dead, and a fight between Silver and the heroes is ongoing. The PRT has called for reinforcements as they attempt to contain the situation…"

Silver appeared to stop—engaging in conversation her power prompted—and then disappeared. Moments later both heroes seemed to stumble before the girl reappeared to strike at Armsmaster. Lisa quickly stamped down hard on her power's input as her headache pulsed harder with an oppressing vengeance.

Before the screen switched back to the news anchor, a bolt of energy—

The girl was a Blaster too? A grab-bag Cape?

—shot from Silver's hand, striking Miss Militia in the chest despite her attempt to dodge.

"...and it has been confirmed that the local heroes have also been wounded. The PRT has stated that the situation is currently being contained and the civilians are urged to remain calm. They have asked us to remind the public that the Protectorate are highly trained and that they are equipped to handle such situations..."

Lisa clicked her tongue. She didn't need her power to understand how desperately the PRT and Protectorate craved this high-profile victory. It amused her somewhat: years of maintaining the status quo with the gangs, countless tragedies and deaths, yet now, a single newly triggered Cape was enough to stir them into action, to make them care. Not that it concerned her; as long as the Protectorate weren't targeting her team, it wasn't her problem.

The screen flashed again, and this time it showed an image of the white-haired girl, her face unobscured.

Alec let out a low whistle as the news continued. "Damn, who's the new hottie? Clearly nuts, but hey, can't blame a guy for liking the bad girls."

Lisa rolled her eyes, unable to suppress a snort of derision. "Alec, she's a psychopath and a mass murderer."

"Yeah. And? Think she'd make a good addition to the team? We've been needing someone with serious firepower."

"Are you serious right now? She's a mass murderer," Lisa retorted, incredulity furrowing her brow. "What part of that don't you understand? Alec, she's lethal. Like, really... really lethal. I doubt she even knows or cares about the Rules. Bringing her in would bring way too much heat on us."

"But she's a hottie. You know it'd be nice to have some eye candy around. Even Brian is getting a bit tired of seeing your and Rachel's ugly mug."

Lisa let out a heavy, drawn-out sigh.

"Just... go away. Do something useful, okay? My head hurts so much, and your jokes aren't funny." She rubbed her temples, groaning softly. "Just go. Shoo!"

There was a loud, dramatic gasp. "You don't mean that, Tats. You love my jokes. You live for my humour."

She ignored him, her focus shifting back to the TV. The screen had switched to an interview with a middle-aged man whose face was pale and his hands visibly shaking. He was speaking frantically, almost babbling.

"...and, and I saw her—I saw her come out of the sewers through a storm drain, you know? She came up from the sewers, and she was covered in mud and gunk and crap and everything. Th-the crazy bi—girl, she just started approaching people like it was nothing! And some people were insane enough to let her talk to them! Can you believe that? Everyone else was running away though, screaming, but then she just started making furniture and sh—stuff appear out of nowhere to block random shop entrances. Like a mad woman! People were trapped, and—and she just kept pulling things out. Furniture. Benches and chairs and tables, like she was barricading the places or something, like, like she was herding everyone, and I was—I was running away with a bunch of people, right? And I saw the cops coming..."

The interviewer—a reporter wearing a serious expression, her brown hair immaculately styled, her face carefully made up, and her clothes neat and expensive—interrupted the man and asked a question.

"How did she respond when the authorities arrived?"

"Sh-she just ran away, and, and the police were just shooting her, you know? Like, they were just opening fire like mad. I didn't stay. I ran, because I thought I was going to die. There were other people there too, but, but—but I didn't stick around."

The man shuddered, a full body movement, and he looked visibly shaken.

"There were sirens and screams, but I heard no one could find her for a while, not until she popped up at the park. Who does that? Fish in a pond like she was—she was on some sort of vacation after all she's done, you know? She's insane. I don't—I just, I don't know. She's insane. I hope they catch her soon. She should be locked up. Locked away. For good. Forever. And maybe get some medication. Something. Anything..."

"Thank you for sharing your story with us, Mister..."

"Johnson. Er, Chris. Chris Johnson."

"Yes, thank you for sharing, Mister Johnson. We'll keep the public informed of any developments, and now we'll move on to—"

Alec snorted. "Now I really want her on the team. She sounds like fun."

"Yeah, real fun. Let's invite the psychopath Cape onto the team, shall we?" Lisa muttered sarcastically, shaking her head in exasperation. "Let's see how fast we can all get Birdcaged."

She tuned out the television, stood, and grabbed her laptop, shoving it under her arm. Then, with a tired sigh, she stepped past Alec and headed toward the hallway. "Anyway, I'm done. I'm heading to sleep finally. If you need me... don't."

Alec raised an eyebrow. "So you're just gonna leave me with this mess?" He gestured at the living room, clicking his tongue. "Typical."

"Yes, Alec," she drawled, not bothering to look back. "Clean up. It'll be good for you. You can learn something about responsibility. Do a girl a favour, will you?"

There was a squawk of indignation but no further protests. Alec didn't follow her, and Lisa didn't bother hiding her relieved sigh. Her feet moved faster as she padded down the hall, eager to return to the sanctity of her room. The throbbing in her head hadn't at all abated, and every step she took felt like someone was banging a drum against her skull. She barely managed to suppress her wince as she reached her room, and it was only a matter of seconds before she had the door slammed shut behind her.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

When Lisa awoke much later that afternoon, she felt awful. Her mouth was parched, and the dull pounding at the back of her skull persisted; the pressure in her head hadn't eased one bit. It felt as though someone had clamped her head in a vice, slowly tightening the bolts. With a groan, she turned onto her side, burying her face into her pillow. Sleep hadn't helped at all; if anything, it made her feel worse.

Forcing herself up, she cursed past her for not leaving a glass of water by the nightstand. Her throat was scratchy, and swallowing was painful. Dehydration, of course. Her stomach grumbled, adding to her discomfort, feeling as if it had been neglected for days. Glancing at the clock, she realised hours had passed.

With another tired groan, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, wincing at the heaviness in her muscles. She must have slept wrong; her back was killing her, and she could only hope that a hot bath would loosen the knot in her shoulder blades.

Lisa stood and shuffled toward the door, yawning heavily, her eyelids drooping, only to stop when she spotted her reflection in the mirror.

Her hair was a tangled mess, blonde strands sticking out like a wild lion's mane, and the bags beneath her eyes were pronounced, as if someone had drawn dark circles with a black marker. She blinked blearily at the mirror before groaning again for the third time.

She looked like death.

Raised voices from the shared living area had her looking back at the door. She frowned, wondering what the commotion was, before she opened the door and slipped outside, following the noise. As she drew closer, the voices became more distinct.

"...Bitch, what the hell?" That was Brian's voice, she realised. It was hard to miss the tense note to his tone. "You can't just bring someone we don't know into the base!"

Lisa paused, having seen exactly what Brian had been referring to. Alec was sprawled out on the sofa, one arm tossed over the armrest as he lounged like a king. His smirk was cocky, and the way his gaze drifted over a girl next to him was appreciative. The girl, meanwhile, seemed completely unbothered.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. White hair. Pale skin. Piercing, blue eyes. What was Silver—Seraph, she reminded herself—doing here? How had Rachel found her?

Lisa was already moving before the thought had even fully processed, her lips pressed tightly together as she approached the sofa. She ignored the others as she drew near, her eyes zeroing in on the newcomer. A dog was snoring by her feet, and another was curled up on the girl's lap, fast asleep.

"Hey, blondie, I've been waiting for you to wake up," Alec greeted, giving her a lazy wave.

The girl glanced over, and their gazes met. Seraph didn't so much as blink as she looked at Lisa. The moment stretched, and the air seemed to grow heavier with every second that passed.

Lisa swallowed, breaking the awkward silence as she turned away from the psychotic Cape. "Bitch," she said, attempting to sound friendly despite her growing anxiety. She'd seen how fast the girl could turn hostile, after all, and she really had no desire to be on the receiving end. "Why did you decide to introduce us to your... friend? We've talked about bringing strangers into the base."

Rachel grunted. "She asked."

Of course, she did. Lisa wanted to curse and scream, instead, she forced a smile on her face. "Ah, yes. That makes sense."

"That's not a good reason," Brian said. His eyes were narrowed, and his expression was serious. Lisa couldn't blame him; they had a rule for a reason. "What the fuck, Bitch?"

"Hey, let's not be rude while our guest is here!" Alec's grin grew wider. He glanced at the white-haired girl. "Silver, right? Whatever. How's your day been going, doll?"

Lisa winced.

"She helped me take care of dogs today," Rachel shrugged, her gaze briefly flicking towards Seraph. "And she's agreed to help rescue more tonight."

Seraph still hadn't said a single word, just glancing around the base like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Her fingers absently scratched the dog's ears, eliciting a loud huff from the slumbering animal. Lisa couldn't shake the unease creeping over her, keeping her gaze fixed away from the unsettling newcomer, her hands trembling with tension.

The girl... the very much psyschopathic, deranged, and homicidal girl... knew their faces, their identities, and now their base. Fuck.

Brian shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fine," he finally said, clearly not happy. The 'leader' voice was in full effect, and Lisa knew Brian was not in a mood to play around. He had every right to be wary. Seraph was a loose cannon. An unhinged, trigger-happy, dangerous, psychotic, sociopathic, crazy cannon.

Lisa's head hurt, and the headache was growing worse with every word that was uttered.

"Fine. She can stay, for now. I can't stop you anyway," Brian continued, his voice hard. "But once you're done with whatever you've got planned, she's out. We don't need her hanging around any longer than necessary." He paused, locking eyes with Rachel. "We're going to have to talk about this later."

Rachel didn't look concerned at all.

"I'm very helpful," Seraph spoke up for the first time, her words that reputed monotone drawl. "It'll be fine."

Brian frowned, his fists clenching and unclenching as he watched her. His jaw tightened with every breath.

"Wait," Alec interrupted, looking far too amused for someone who was dealing with an unpredictable, Slaughterhouse-material Cape who could probably murder them all and not blink. "Does that mean you're going to be hitting the dog fighting pits with her?"

Lisa's lips pressed together in a tight line. God, they were all probably going to get lumped into being with Silver if anyone saw them. Fuck. This was not what she wanted to deal with after waking up. Fingers massaged her temples. Her head pounded. She really needed to talk to Rachel, make her see sense, before it was too late and the PRT and Protectorate decided the Undersiders were now more than just small-time criminals that weren't worth the effort.

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< HELPFUL TIPS! >

Reminder: Keep an eye on your stamina bar. Running out of energy in the middle of a fight could be a fatal mistake. If needed, stop and recover. Remember, pushing your limits can lead to exhaustion, leaving you vulnerable to enemy attacks. Use consumables or take a moment to rest and regain your stamina. Managing your energy efficiently is just as crucial as wielding your weapon skillfully.

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"I don't think they like me, chat," the young man murmured, his eyes flicking across the rapid stream of messages on the screen. He'd spent nearly an hour cultivating a rapport with the dog girl NPC, and now a Quest Chain seemed within reach. Investing in Charisma and acquiring a Skill for Diplomacy and Social Interactions really had helped, but it still felt shaky though—what if the NPCs turned on him?

He leaned back, exhaling heavily as the monitor's glow cast shifting shadows over his face.

The chat scrolled with suggestions and banter:

…

CowKiller123456: Hey, why not charm the NPCs? Maybe they'll warm up to you then.

RawrXD: lol what if they rat you out to the whitehats

Punkypie: lolololol

NekoNekoNeko: make them fall in love with you!!!!!!!!!

…

Miss Sugar: It should be fine!

Sinner6969: 500 gems if you wipe them all out too...

…

"H-hopefully I can finish the quest, at least," he said, swivelling the joystick to move the camera around and take in the sights of the supposed base. "What sort of, uhm, reward do you think I'll get, chat?"

He interacted with the dog on his character's lap again and chose the option to pat it on the head. "M-maybe I'll get my own pet? A dog companion might be nice."

*** 

[CHARACTER UPGRADES LOG]

[LEVEL]: 2 → 4

[SKILL POINTS]: 0 → 2

ATTRIBUTE SCORES

[CON]: 10

[STR]: 10

[DEX]: 10

[INT]: 10

[WIS]: 10

[CHA]: 11 → 13

NEW SKILLS!

✦ SERENE VISAGE ✦

RANK: 1

TYPE: Active

RANGE: Self

FP COST: 100

DURATION: 1 minute

COOLDOWN: 15 minutes

EFFECT: With a serene smile, the world bends to your will. Upon activation, you are imbued with an otherworldly grace, enhancing your natural charisma to mesmerising levels. Your Charisma score is doubled for the duration of this Skill, allowing you to effortlessly captivate those around you.

✦ CHAKRA MAGIC ✦

RANK: 1

TYPE: Active

RANGE: 60

FP COST: -

COOLDOWN: 30 seconds

EFFECT: Tap into fundamental energies of the universe, channeling their harmonious spark to restore 50 FP to yourself or a target.

[SKILL POINTS]: 2 → 0