MillionNovel

Font: Big Medium Small
Dark Eye-protection
MillionNovel > Rimelion: The Exploiter > [Book 1] [46. Fractured Trust]

[Book 1] [46. Fractured Trust]

    “Thus my offer, build your kingdom and I shall invest into it,” said Riker.


    “Mister Riker!” I started laughing and shook my head. “Having a kingdom in the game? That’s nearly impossible, even for me—at least in the first years. Sure, I have a noble title, but I’d need to grow, build my Right to Rule points, and then, maybe—maybe—I could aim for a count, with final sights on Dukedom,” I explained, still chuckling at the thought.


    Riker inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. “I am well aware of the challenges you face, Miss Charlie,” he said smoothly. “Nevertheless, my offer remains unwavering. So long as you maintain your independence, my support is yours—whether you rise to rule a grand kingdom or preside over a humble barony.”


    With that, he rose from his seat and began tinkering with his watch. A faint hum accompanied his actions, the device glowing softly as he adjusted something on its interface.


    “Lucas,” he said, glancing at my mage. “You’ve fulfilled your end by arranging this delightful conversation. As such, you may keep the money you arrived with.” His tone was casual, as though granting Lucas a reprieve from financial ruin was like holding the door for a woman. “And here is the promised info on the two agents going after you.”


    Turning to me, he continued, “And as for you, Miss Charlie, here is your Ranker Quantum Key.” He extended a small, gleaming device toward me—a metallic object that glowed with faint, pulsating light. “Enjoy the privileges of being a top ranker. I will introduce perks for any ranker, including you, later.” His gaze locked onto mine. “You’ll also find my direct contact information there.”


    He stepped back. “Thank you for the chat. That is all for me. Do you wish to add anything?”


    I stared at him for a moment, countless questions swirling in my mind like an unrelenting storm.


    Why me?


    What does he really want?


    How far does his influence extend?


    My anger and exhaustion outweighed my curiosity for now. I can always call. Instead, I simply shook my head. “No, I do not. Goodbye, mister Riker.”


    I grabbed Lucas’s hand and pulled him into the elevator room, my frustration simmering just beneath the surface.


    I need comfort.


    I leaned toward him for a hug, but as I saw Lucas’s smug grin, as if he won the entire game, was the last straw for my thin nerves. “What were you thinking by coming here?”


    Lucas’ grin deepened, his typical deflective charm shining through. “Why are you so beautiful?”


    I froze mid-step, gaping at him as I felt the heat rush to my face.


    What the hell?!


    My cheeks burned as I stammered, “I-I-I bought the dress before coming!” My words tumbled out in a flustered mess. “Wait, I don’t have to justify myself to you!” Am I… Yes, I am Charlie, but also John.


    Damn, this is confusing.


    “Neither do I, Charlie,” Lucas said back confidently, his grin broadening. “I came for information, and I got it. The money? That’s just a bonus.”


    The elevator jolted softly as it began descending. I turned to him, channeling Irwen’s icy presence more naturally than I expected. “Lucas…” My tone was biting. “You’re treading a very dangerous bar now. Watch your barrels.”


    For the first time that night, Lucas’s grin faltered. He flinched slightly, and for a fleeting moment, I saw something vulnerable crack through his bravado. “Charlie?”


    I exhaled sharply, feeling the weight of my exhaustion mixing with anger. “I risk everything for you. And you… You don’t even tell me where you are, what your plan is! Even Pearl probably knows more than I do, right?”


    Lucas stiffened, his own frustration rising to the surface. “I’m more than capable of cleaning up after myself,” he said, showing his anger. “You don’t need to—”


    “I don’t? I don’t?!” I cut him off, my voice sharp enough to make him recoil. The elevator came to a smooth halt, and as the doors slid open, we began walking toward the exit. “Tell me, Lucas, how much would you have made without me?”


    Lucas stayed silent, his brows furrowed as he avoided my gaze. “I just needed some starting capital. I would’ve found a way…”


    “And that’s why you said we should enjoy life because we have only a week to live?!” I shot back. The fresh night air hit me as we finally exited the stupid tower, cooling my anger a bit. “Can you hear yourself now? What’s gotten into you? How did you even get here?”


    “Taxi,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, carrying a hint of hurt. Was he upset by me? Am I the one being unfair here? Am I too harsh?


    Maybe.


    But dammit, I deserve better than this silence from him. I clenched my fists.


    Lucas hesitated, his words coming slower now. “Charlie… You’ve done so much for me that I…” He faltered, his voice cracking slightly. “That I need to do this. Please, just let me handle it.”


    The day had stretched me thin—I was exhausted, frustrated, and downright angry-tired. And Lucas’s stubbornness was testing every ounce of patience I had left.


    “You want to do this alone? Without me? To prove you still have balls while I don’t?” I snapped, my tone cutting deeper than I intended.


    “That’s not what I—” He stopped mid-sentence, backing down under my stare. “But yes. This is my mess, and I’ll deal with it. I’ll be here for you when you need me.”


    “Fine,” I said bluntly, my voice flat. Pulling out my phone, I texted Roberto.


    <table style="background-image: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgba(52, 52, 52, 1); margin: 10px auto; width: 90%; border: none; border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 2px">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: left; margin: 3px; padding: 5px; color: rgba(245, 245, 245, 1) !important; border: 1px solid rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.25) !important; background-image: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1)">[Charlie] Hey Roberto, it’s me, Charlie. You still free tonight?


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.[Roberto] Need a ride? Be near tower in 5.


    [Charlie] Thanks.</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    “Get your own ride. Mine has only one seat,” I said firmly, trying to suppress the anger boiling.


    “Someone from the bar?” Lucas asked casually, a grin playing at his lips, as if this whole thing was a joke.


    Doesn’t he get it? My thoughts raced.


    I risk the ban; I risk everything I love in Rimelion—everything I’ve worked for.


    I’ve changed all my plans… for him. Because he’s my friend, my dear friend. And this… this isn’t how you treat someone who would do that for you.


    Would I do it all again? Yes. But…


    I forced myself to breathe. “Well, yes,” I admitted, keeping my voice even. “I met him in the bar years ago.” It was the truth, after all.


    Lucas shook his head, his grin softening into something almost playful. “You have a drinking problem.”


    “You have a gambling problem,” I shot back without missing a beat.


    He let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fair, fair. But at least I can calculate risks and avoid losing all my money.”


    No? It wasn’t like you bargained with Riker by playing a card ‘Charlie can come’.


    I didn’t bother replying. Lucas didn’t need to know what I really thought about his excuse. Thankfully, Roberto’s car pulled up just in time, its headlights blinding as much as Rikers’ coat, probably not road legal.


    “That’s my ride,” I said, nodding toward the car as Roberto opened the door for me. “Bye, Lucas. And log in tomorrow morning—I’ll need your help, okay? Ruins exploring!”


    He hesitated, his grin fading slightly. “I can’t. This mess is time-sensitive. Maybe the day after.”


    I froze for a second.


    “But…” I started, but then nodded. “Fine,” I said, stepping into the car, and I was on the verge of letting my tears out.


    The door shut with a firm click behind me, sealing me inside the comforting, very loud hum of Roberto’s vehicle. As we pulled away, I muttered under my breath, “being there for me when I need you, my ass.”


    “Problems?” my driver asked, but he shut up after I let tears out and drove me home in silence.


    The next day Tin-can didn’t get the satisfaction of waking me up—I managed that on my own, three minutes before he could. I hailed it as a minor victory, though it felt hollow after all what happened yesterday. After quickly cleaning myself up, I slipped into the capsule.


    “Back at last!” I said aloud as the familiar world of Rimelion loaded around me.


    My grin faltered as I checked my friend’s list. As expected, it was a sea of grayed-out names. Everyone was still offline, just like yesterday.


    “So, solo grind it is, huh?” I muttered, forcing some cheer into my voice.


    I loved playing solo—at least; I used to. There was… freedom in it, a rhythm I could fall into without worrying about anyone else. But now, it felt… different.


    Back when I was a tester, I could always call on Lucy or one of the other colleagues to join me, a shared purpose, even if it was just for bug-hunting.


    Now? The people I used to rely on were either dead—for real, like Lucy, or temporarily like Lisa—or stubbornly stupid, like Lucas.


    Lucas has always been like that, I thought bitterly. I just forgot. My jaw clenched as the realization settled.


    So it’s my fault, as always; stupid me for trusting him.


    I sighed, trying to shake off the weight pressing on my chest.


    I’m socially useless, after all. The thought hit harder than I expected, lingering in the back of my mind like an unwelcome guest.


    Pushing the feelings aside, I tightened my grip on my virtual whip and took a deep breath. “Alright,” I whispered to myself, forcing determination into my tone. If I could solo the hardest bosses on the test servers, I can do this.


    The resolve steadied me. With a quick glance at my map, I stepped forward into the world, ready to face whatever Rimelion could throw at me—alone.


    Let’s not provoke admins by exploiting… too much.


    I hate mud. Not just because it makes fighting harder, but because it gets everywhere. My heels, my robes—everything coated in the sticky, disgusting filth. And don’t even get me started on the Wolves.


    <table style="background-image: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgba(0, 75, 122, 0.93); margin: 10px auto; width: 90%; border: none; border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 2px; padding: 0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center; margin: 3px; padding: 5px; color: rgba(218, 213, 206, 1) !important; border: 1px solid rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.25) !important; background-image: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1)">[Gray wolf Lv.5]


    Type: 1-common | HP: 100/100</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    “Leave me alone!” I hissed, glaring at the aggressive beast.


    It didn’t care.


    Instead, it bounced around me, flinging mud in every direction, as if mocking my concerns. My whip lashed out, but the wolf nimbly dodged, its muddy paws kicking up even more of the muck.


    Then, with a sharp feint to the right, it lunged, jaws snapping toward my calf. “As if!” I shouted, foreseeing the attack.


    My whip cracked in a swift counter, catching it mid-air with a satisfying snap.


    Before I could catch my breath, movement behind me made my skin prickle. Of course. Another stupid wolf, just as filthy as the first, leapt toward me. Its fur was so caked in mud it was barely recognizable as a wolf—just a moving pile of muck hurtling my way. Wouldn’t surprise me, if it was an Earth elemental.


    I spun in place, raising my shield just in time.


    <table style="background-image: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgba(0, 75, 122, 0.93); margin: 10px auto; width: 90%; border: none; border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 2px; padding: 0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center; margin: 3px; padding: 5px; color: rgba(218, 213, 206, 1) !important; border: 1px solid rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.25) !important; background-image: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1)">[Block successful. Mitigated amount of damage: 3, other damage halved. Suffered amount: 2]</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    System, stop the messages! I can’t focus! I gritted my teeth, trying to shake off the notification.


    “When I have a barony,” I growled through clenched teeth, slashing with my whip again, “you all shall either serve me or die!” My words rang as the whip struck true, cutting through the mud and ending the fight.


    For my whip, mud also served as an armor, so no AP.


    Of course it does.


    Finally, the wolves collapsed, their defeated forms sinking slightly into the muck. The XP was welcome, but the mud-splattered mess left behind? Not so much. “Of course I forgot…” I muttered, brushing off a disgusting splatter on my robe. “Chain lighting!”


    Pitiful spark of energy hit the dead wolf, but hey it counted anyway, enemy after all.


    <table style="background-image: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgba(0, 75, 122, 0.93); margin: 10px auto; width: 90%; border: none; border-collapse: separate; border-spacing: 2px; padding: 0">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="text-align: center; margin: 3px; padding: 5px; color: rgba(218, 213, 206, 1) !important; border: 1px solid rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.25) !important; background-image: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1)">[To unlock a Chain lightning, practice it: 265/1000]</td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    I glanced at the stream running nearby. Its clear water sparkled faintly in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the mud-coated battlefield I’d just endured. Without hesitation, I headed for it, jumping straight in. The water was icy, sending a sharp chill through me, but it washed away the grime in moments.


    Next items must be self-cleaning and self-repairing, I thought bitterly as I examined my torn robe.


    The fabric was ripped in several places, evidence of the hits I hadn’t blocked. I grunted in frustration, trying to piece it back together. “At least I don’t look like one of those filthy wolves now,” I muttered to myself, shivering slightly as the chilly water dripped from my robe.


    As I wrung out the edges of my robe, the icy water still dripping from my sleeves, a strange voice called out from the opposite bank.


    “Well, well! Look, boys, who we have here! A lone priest!” My head snapped up, my heart skipping a beat.


    At least five figures emerged from the shadows of the tree line, their forms silhouetted against the sunlight. The leader, a muscular boy with a grin, leaned casually against a spear, the tip slowly submerging in the mud.


    “Treat or kill, girl?”
『Add To Library for easy reading』
Popular recommendations
A Ruthless Proposition Wired (Buchanan-Renard #13) Mine Till Midnight (The Hathaways #1) The Wandering Calamity Married By Morning (The Hathaways #4) A Kingdom of Dreams (Westmoreland Saga #1)