Entering the internet cafe, James confidently grabbed a bottle of cola and loaded $10 onto his account.
After receiving a sweet smile from the cashier girl, whom the system rated a 69, he sat in the $3 per hour area of the main hall.
While waiting for the computer to boot up, he checked his new phone.
There were three new contacts on WhatsAppâall women.
James opened the first girl's profile.
Her feed included selfies that seemed familiar, and the system rated her an impressive 81.
Scrolling further, he noticed frequent pictures of the Porsche steering wheel logo, often accompanied by motivational quotes.
Recognizing the car brand, he remembered she was the sexy saleswoman from this morning, Perla.
James accepted her friend request.
Moments later, she sent a "hello," but James, having little interest in a saleswoman at the moment, left her on read.
The next girl was named Betsy.
Her feed was sparse, mostly scenic shots paired with life reflections.
The note identified her as being related to the Porsche purchase.
James remembered she was the previous owner of the Turbo S he bought.
Curious, he accepted her friend request and directly messaged her: "Hey beauty, send a selfie."
After dealing with Tailsa, his boldness had grown considerably, and he dared to speak his mind.
Asking for a selfie was simply a time-saver.
If she was anything below a 90, he'd cut any further interaction. He didn't have extra energy to entertain other girls.
The third contact was Anna Rivera. Her request note asked: "Why were you at the Porsche dealership?"
Having posted some photos of the Porsche earlier that morning, he'd received over twenty likes in half a day. People were joking in the comments, urging him to buy.
It was likely she'd heard about his dealership visit through classmates.
Amused, James considered adding her back just to tease with a sarcastic comment: "None of your business."
But he thought better of it. Being a grown man with an ID, there was no need to show off to someone so petty.
It might come across as if he still cared about her.
He outright rejected her request and blocked her.
Indifference was the most hurtful message of all.
Just like she had once ignored him.
Only those who've been on the receiving end of such silent treatment can understand its intense stingâthe feeling of a chest full of molten lava, buried under layers of frost.
James wanted her to feel that.
After handling all that, he casually set his phone on the table, its star-shaped camera lens in view.
Noticing the envious glances from those around him, he opened LOL (League of Legends).
Of course, a visit to the internet cafe meant indulging in a few rounds of games.
Before seeking out girl streamers to watch.
He'd been playing this game off and on for seven to eight years.
Not particularly skilled.
But he had a knack for some quirky strategies.
The newly added features in this version were perfect for players like James.
As the game began, he opted for Miss Fortune as the ADC.
His first item was Ravenous Hydra, and his second, Heartsteel...
Completely demolishing the enemy Rengar, leaving the jungler questioning his life choices.
In the current version, damage outputs were insane, to the point where even supports could run down ADCs.
There was no reason for ADs to play a crucial role.
Just tank damage, draw aggro, and cling to the middle and top laners, as well as the jungler, for all dear lifeâa true horror game strategy.
James happily built top-lane items on his ADC and solo pushed mid-lane against the enemy team.
Using his seemingly frail body, he successfully baited the enemy mid-laner, Yasuo.
Eating his ult, James was slashed at for half the map without dying.
When his teammates arrived and cornered Yasuo, the enemy still wanted to land one final E onto James before he fell.
He built grudges stunningly well.
With a full team securing the Baron, it was crucial.
And James, the ADC, summoned a 'magical grab,' yanking the enemy Rengar from the bush.
Then fearlessly stood his ground and fought.
Rengar's abilities were all used up, only to realize, to his shock, that James's ADC still had half of his health bar.
After being focused and eliminated by his team, Rengar spammed question marks, bewildered.
James, coordinating with teammates to secure the Baron, eliminate enemies, and push towers, ended the match promptly.
Satisfying.
The current version felt like an ADC's utopia.
Before, careful positioning, strategic attack, and skill evasion were necessary.
Now, it was all about tanking and performing utilitarian roles, while match outcomes had little to do with individual ADC performance.
Even pushing towers no longer required AD damage late-game.
This made the game all the more enjoyable for James.
No more worrying about being one-shot combos by opponents.
He was about to queue for another game when Jay Johnson called, reporting that he had safely dropped Tailsa off and asked where James was so he could pick him up.
James didn't want him to come.
Having a big guy standing behind him while gaming felt odd.
On the phone, James told Jay Johnson, "Just pick me up later when I head to the bar. For now, take some time off."
Jay Johnson had assumed his job required him to be on-call 24/7 and was prepping to subsist on rations.
He was not expecting to be told to rest up after barely two hours of work.
He couldn't believe it.
Could work really be this easy?
Could he really get a raise this way?
Sitting in the car, he stared at his phone, lost in thought.
...
James hung up the phone.
He was planning to hit the bar later and console himself with Amanda about his heartbreak.
Maybe he'd find a girl suitable to room with for the night.
He guaranteed he wouldn't lay a hand on her.
He merely wished to avoid returning to his little 40-square-meter abode after getting accustomed to a four-star hotel bed.
Just then, the phone buzzed.
A message from the lady Porsche owner he'd just added.
Betsy: "King, nice to meet you."
Seeing that she wouldn't send a photo, James wasn't particularly interested.
But while queuing up, he casually replied:
James: "What's up?"
Betsy: "I think we have very similar tastes, and I'd like to get to know you."
James: "No pics, no chat."
Betsy: "..."
Monroe Anne sat in her office, staring blankly at the messages on her phone.
She assumed anyone with her taste in cars would share her sense of elegance.
She didn't expect him to start by demanding a photo.
His attitude, casual and almost uncouth, felt like that of an overly confident pauper.
Monroe Anne prided herself on being broad-minded and thought it too premature to judge someone based on a single sentence, deciding instead to get a clearer picture before concluding.
But after just three messages, she came to her conclusion.
If this man wasn't some wannabe, he must be a fool from a landed family.
She wouldn't ordinarily engage with someone so lacking in class.
However,
Being born quite good-looking,
Praised throughout her life as princess-like,
This was a situation where not sending a photo made it seem like she had something to hide.
Contemplating, Monroe Anne snapped a selfie and sent it over.
Betsy: "[Image]"
James: "/Drooling emoji."
His reaction came almost instantly, drawing a satisfied smile from Monroe Anne.
She was confident in her beauty.
Now, the lead in the conversation was firmly hers.
She texted: "Can we chat now?"