Four months. That was how long Luke allowed himself to stay with the Baumann family, a conscious attempt to reclaim at least part of the time he had lost with them. It was also four months spent researching everything he could about the New World, about how Familiars truly worked, and even dipping into his considerable fortune to buy seeds.
Seeds for plants used as ingredients in healing potions.
Every week, boxes arrived at his door. Seeds, foul-smelling liquids, even honey. If there was one thing he genuinely missed, it was how effortless it used to be to buy things online. Luke relied on a special branch of the internet reserved for those with access to the system, where more… unusual items were available.
If he fed Charlie his blood every single day, he would lose more HP than he could reasonably recover. So he found a workaround. He turned himself into a walking potion factory, all to keep his fiancée… or vampire wife… fed.
“I want to watch it again, Luke. Click it so the movie starts from the beginning,” Artemis demanded.
The goddess, or rather the talking necklace containing a goddess’s soul, was sprawled across his bed. The necklace rested on an expensive pillow, facing the bedroom TV. Artemis had spent four months eating nothing but supermarket junk and watching television twenty-four hours a day, every single day.
“You’ve already seen it like… a hundred times. I’m not restarting it again. I’m this close to memorizing the entire trilogy.”
“The Hangover is the greatest movie trilogy ever made. It’s what the young people call Absolute Cinema.”
“You only watch it because of Bradley Cooper.”
“That too. He’s a very nice bonus,” she replied without hesitation.
Artemis even had a completely unhinged theory that Bradley Cooper’s character was trapped in a time loop.
“That theory is garbage.”
“It’s not. Pay attention to his lines. You’ll notice he casually drops things like ‘oh right, there was the tiger.’ Unless he lied about being drugged too, that means he’s a time traveler stuck reliving the same day. He’s way too calm compared to the rest of them.”
“Bradley Cooper is always calm. The guy’s just a nice dude.”
“I’m telling you, my theory is right.”
Luke restarted the movie anyway.
“So when are we having our own Hangover?” Artemis asked. “You, me, and a few Vegas prostitutes.”
“That’s not happening.”
“My sweet vacation in the technological world seems to be over,” Artemis sighed dramatically. “Why? Why can’t we just stay here forever in this little slice-of-life fantasy? Why do you have to go somewhere with a ninety-nine percent chance of you dying, relying entirely on bad luck, plot armor, and insane plans?”
“You already know my reasons.”
Franky was bouncing on the bed, hopping around wildly. Over the past months, he had gained far better control over his wyvern body.
“All I know is that I can’t wait to hunt,” Franky declared. “A powerful magical beast like me refuses to live off food it did not personally kill.”
Luke glanced toward the pink tent in the corner of the room, Franky’s chosen den. There was a plate sitting neatly inside.
“Then why do you happily accept the food my sister brings you?” Luke asked.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, human…” Franky muttered.
Luke looked out the window.
Time to book a flight to Washington.
There was someone he needed to see again.
***
Eleanor was sitting in one of Washington’s most sought-after restaurants. Getting a reservation there on such short notice had been difficult, but her position as a diplomat made certain doors easier to open.
She barely touched the small appetizer placed on the table, occasionally wetting her lips with a sip of wine. The table itself was one of the restaurant’s private ones, located on the top floor of the building, complete with its own garden. She had been there for over an hour. The reservation was for two, yet the person who was supposed to be sitting across from her was… late.
“Should we offer her more wine, or try the menu again?” one of the waiters whispered.
Even from a distance, Eleanor could catch fragments of their conversation thanks to her heightened senses as a hunter.
“I offered it less than five minutes ago. If I go again, she’ll realize we noticed she got stood up.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“But who would be insane enough to stand up a woman like that?” another server murmured.
“Whoever did better have a damn good excuse.”
Eleanor exhaled softly and took another small sip of wine. After a while, she picked up a faint commotion near the entrance. A brief disagreement, quickly resolved.
“This way, sir. Sorry for the inconvenience, we had to verify your identity,” one of the staff said.
The employee guided the guest through the restaurant and toward her table.
“This is your table. I’ll bring the menus right away.”
The man sat down across from her.
“Before anything else, I—”
“You’re late,” Eleanor cut in calmly.
“In my defense, I was completely lost. I had no idea how to find this place. I’m a simple guy from rural Maine, not a big-city diplomat. The GPS didn’t help either,” Luke replied.
“Says the guy who could walk through the Wild Zone with his eyes closed.”
“At least there I could climb something tall and scout the area. If I try that here, I’ll end up arrested.”
“At least we finally reunited, Luke. It’s been four months.”
“Time flew by. The tutorial feels like it was decades ago.”
Eleanor leaned back slightly. She’d been resting her elbows on the table and deliberately brushed her hair aside, making sure the necklace she wore was clearly visible.
Luke kept looking around the restaurant, completely oblivious.
Seriously? Not even a compliment yet? I don’t even wear dresses, and today I am.
Eleanor placed a small square device on the table, then set a crystal on top of it. The crystal snapped into place like a magnet.
“What’s that?” Luke asked.
“A device issued to diplomats,” she explained. “It creates a field that prevents conversations from leaking out or being overheard.” She poured mana into the crystal, and a faint breeze rolled outward as a transparent barrier formed. “It’s single-use, but worth it.”
“Could it be used for assassination?” Luke asked, genuinely curious.
“Anyone passing nearby would hear something like cicadas buzzing, so it doesn’t replace real magic. And you can’t store it in an inventory item without breaking it. Only authorized individuals get access.”
He let out a low whistle. “Turns out you’re the real James Bond here.”
Eleanor laughed at that.
“You know that after I left the tutorial, I watched the entire saga?” she said. “I’d never seen it before.”
“Seriously? Why would you even watch it? I mean, sure, they’re some of the best movies ever made. But you, of all people?”
“I keep asking myself that too,” she replied, glancing away.
“Let’s not reopen the James Bond topic. That only ever led to confusion and misunderstandings.”
“Right. James,” she said, speaking the name with the same serious tone she’d used years ago while interrogating him. Nostalgia lingered in it.
“And about my request… I know it couldn’t have been easy,” he added.
“My help with your family, or with Sirius City?”
“My family first.”
She took a small sip of wine. “They’re safe. The bank account you opened in their name is fully set up. If you die, your entire fortune goes to them.”
“Good. That takes a huge weight off my shoulders. Thank you, Eleanor. I owe you more favors than I can count.”
“Is it really true you didn’t tell them anything?”
“I told them I received compensation from the government. Just not the real amount. I tried to feel out whether they’d move, but the Baumanns are simple people. They’re not leaving.”
He paused for a moment. “They’re not thrilled about me… planning to be gone for a while, but they accepted it.”
“Between a rebellious son vanishing without a trace and one who leaves knowing where he’s headed, the second option is much easier to live with,” Eleanor said with a light laugh.
She had gone against her own father once, too, when she accepted the system.
When Luke glanced at the menu the waiter had placed on the table, she caught him blinking at the prices.
“You’re rich, and you’re worried about menu prices?”
“For ten bucks I could make a solid lunch. These people are absolutely overcharging,” he replied, still studying the menu.
“You’re my guest, Luke. I invited you to dinner. I’m paying.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
They kept talking, drifting through memories of friends and fragments of their new lives. Luke still had a barrel of gold stored with him.
“I made sure to convert the money you sent into New World currency,” she said.
“Eleanor, you’re a saint. Always helping me,” he replied. “I owe you more every time we talk.”
“And I fully intend to collect someday,” she said, taking another sip of wine.
Time slipped by effortlessly between them.
“And you still run some kind of agent network,” Luke added. “I almost joined the SIA myself, just for the badge.”
“I did invite you to work with me. You and Evangeline both had potential. The government holds us in high regard for participating in Earth’s final tutorial.”
At least, that was the official statement. There would be no more tutorials, and no one seemed to know why.
“They’re planning a large summit. The World Government, and everyone who took part in the tutorial, will be invited,” she continued.
“I heard their announcement on TV. Maybe I’ll run into Allison there,” he said, his gaze drifting, his voice distant.
And you talk about another woman… right in front of one?
***
“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay the bill?” he asked.
“I’ve got it, Luke. I invited you. You should head out before you end up late for your flight.”
“Alright, I’m going then. See you next time, Eleanor. If anything comes up, just send a message. I’ll see you in a few days in the New World.” He waved and started to leave.
Luke quickened his pace and headed toward the elevator, leaving her behind
“And just like that, he’s gone,” she muttered.
Eleanor asked for the check.
The waiter looked confused. “The bill has already been taken care of.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It was paid earlier by a man when he arrived.”
“A man? The one who was sitting with me?”
“Yes, him.”
“But how would he even know the total?”
The waiter pulled something from his pocket. “He said whatever was left over should go to the staff. He also asked me to give you this.”
Eleanor took the folded note. When she opened it, she read: “The James Bond always pays the bill for his companions.”
“That rogue…” she muttered.
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