Echoes of Guilt and Apathy

After surviving the wild ride down at South Colony, I dragged Ara back to my cozy cottage.

Not only was she tired, but I also felt like I'd been through the wringer with all the talks I'd had with strangers.

Oh, to be an introvert.

I decided to give my vocal cords a rest for the day. But of course, it wouldn't hinder me from another round of player killing. I had some hunting plans brewing in my mind – justice-style, of course.

Those ex-members of Benjamin's party were on my radar, and I was ready to make the hunt enjoyable.

Finally getting back to the cottage, I found Jayden in the living room, engrossed in a book by the fireplace. He looked up, giving me a nod of welcome.

"Hey, Seth," he greeted.

"Yeah, hey." Time for Jayden to meet Ara. "You familiar with Ara?"

Jayden took a beat before responding, "Nope, I met her yesterday though. She is a fast sleeper. but I'm up for a chat." Cool, they could awkwardly bond while I sorted out my thoughts.

I nodded, "You can go and great Jayden, Ara."

While the two children navigated through small talk, I decided to peace out to my room. Half of my clothes and gear were already in the big bag in the living room. But still, I need to rest a bit in an actual bed.

Lying there, staring at the ceiling, I had a real dilemma on my hands. To continue the player-killing spree or not?

Ara made me feel all guilty and stuff. Greediness had me in its grip – stealing skills, getting stronger, the whole shebang.

But why would I enjoy player-killing? Was this some kind of Tiamat system side effect?

{Stop playing the victim. The system ain't messing with your brain. You're doing this to yourself.}

{Gotta admit, your apathetic side is kinda intriguing.}

{Killing players left and right without batting an eye – you're a puzzle.}

Sighing, I dismissed the heavy contemplation and got up. Pondering life's complexities was giving me a major headache.

I'd rather be out there hunting Amy and her teenage rebellion squad. They had it coming, right? No need to feel bad about offing them.

Maybe I should switch gears – be a vigilante, take down the evil dudes. Although truth be told, my motives weren't exactly superhero material. I just wanted those skills, killing points, and expertise.

Heading back to the living room, I figured Jayden could play babysitter for Ara. I mean, the kid was mature for his age, so what could go wrong, right?

As I descended the stairs, their conversation hit me like a brick. "Do you know who killed your father?" Jayden's words hung heavy in the air, freezing me in place.

Ara's response carried the weight of trauma. "I don't know. I saw someone's shadow near my father. A masked figure, it was so dark, I couldn't see much." Her voice trembled, reliving the nightmare.

Jayden, silent but deadly, pressed on. "Mask? What kind?"

Ara hesitated, "Umm... Golden glow, half mask, long jaw like a dog."

"Anubis mask?"

"I don't know. Maybe..."

My brows furrowed deeply, she remembered that night and saw me there. Lucky for me, she only recalled the mask, not my whole getup.

Damn, what a mess. A wave of discomfort washed over me. What if she figures out I offed her father? My palms began to sweat in the winter cold.

Squatting on the staircase, I was hit with a tsunami of conflicting feelings. Weird mix of fear, guilt, and straight-up confusion – my temporal lobe was on overload. My stomach got sucker-punched, and I feel all kinds of messed up.

Shit!

But no, it wasn't game over. Swap the mask, keep a low profile, and act like nothing happened – that was the plan. Maybe take a hiatus from the hunting spree?

Easy, Seth. The world ain't crumbling just yet, even in the middle of this apocalyptic mess.

A sense of urgency crept in as I descended the stairs. I needed a moment away, "Watch over Ara, Jayden. Be back in a bit," before bolting from the cottage.

Dodging that conversation was a pure victory. No need for people to suspect my sudden case of nervous sweats.

Time to hit the vintage store, the spot where I got that Anubis mask. Surely, they had something else cool, right?

Nope. The gnome store owner shattered my hopes. "Apologies, players have been buying masks left and right. All that's left is the Anubis."

"And when's the new stock rolling in?"

"Give it a week."

I slam my head to the table in front of me. I fucked up bad! Seriously, why did chaos and misfortune follow me like a shadow? Did the universe have a vendetta against me? Was I its favorite punching bag?

In defeat, I mumbled, "Fine, gimme the cloak that I bought the last time and the damn Anubis mask."

With my loot in hand, I pondered the city streets, wondering how the heck I got stuck in this mess. Should I just use this Anubis mask and go on a hunting spree, or endure a week of waiting?

I didn't want to do mini-games, they were a pain – consume my time, MP, and energy drains.

Yet, I scored two skill passes last round of the mini-game, leaving me with four unused ones, possibly hoarding until I hit ten skill passes.

But it was because the latest mini-game was four stars! And it was rare to find either. Many of the mini-games were one to three-star. It was a miracle I found the four-star game.

Then in my confusion, it hit me. Ara, that kid, wouldn't solo a revenge mission to the city. She didn't even dare to leave the colony alone. Mask or no mask, she wouldn't know my identity. At least, not for another decade.

So why did this mess bug me so much? The odds of my party helping Ara avenge her father were slim. Why would they bother? And if they ever hunted me down, teleportation skill was my getaway ticket.

Smirking, I exited the colony into the ruined city. Activated teleportation mid-air, landing in the sky, eyes scanning like a hawk. Teenager club with the blue neon hair – where were they?

Enhanced Perception kicked in, revealing everything, including the chick with neon and piercings. Gotcha. Diving down, I halted in front of her. No mask, no cloak – I wanted her to know exactly who she was dealing with.

"Hey, Amy. We meet again," I greeted, a wide smirk on my face. Time to lay my cards on the table.

"Who?" she retorted with the usual teenager's disdainful face.

Seriously? We met a couple of hours ago. Her brain must be the size of a shrimp. No worries; I'd make sure she remembered me for the rest of her life that would end today.

"Oh, you forgot? I'll jog your memory," I said, materializing the revolver in my hand. A gunshot echoed, finding its place in her leg.

No need to rush; I had all the time in the world to make this bitch cry and lick my boots.

"ARGH! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" she screamed, clutching her bleeding leg.

I squatted in front of her, cool as a cucumber. "I told you I'd make you remember me. Do you remember now?"

Her gaze oozed hatred, but fear danced in her eyes. She stayed silent, pushing my patience.

"Well, let's play hide and seek. You can hide in any building you want, and I'll count to ten. If I can't find you in 10 minutes, you're free," I declared, standing up.

Seemed like a messed-up game, right? The straight-up killing was getting dull. She just nodded in response as I turned around, starting the count.

Sure, she might think she could run away, but no dice. I'd find her, have some fun chasing her around, and then wrap up the game.