Chapter 15 Trust in Chosen Family

Lea sat at the head of the living room table, her expression carved from stone. Around her, the rest of the team—every one of the thirty-five Robin Arrows, plus Jen—crowded onto mismatched chairs, stools, the arms of couches, and, in a few cases, the floor. The room buzzed with quiet tension.

Everyone was stunned to learn Jen was being tailed by unknowns. Not only was it a terrifying thought, but it also struck them as excessive—wildly beyond their understanding. Why would someone stalk a woman over a game? But no one dared voice their confusion; the look on Lea’s face kept them quiet as they all contemplated the implications.

Frank stood near the window, the glow from his laptop painting his face.

“I ran the plates on both cars that were tailing Jen,” he said, tone clipped. “First one? Vectrum Inc. Corporate front. Second? Blue Inc. Investment Fund.”

He looked up, expression grim.

“If those names don’t mean anything to you—let me rephrase. That’s the Golden Panthers Guild and the White Clan Guild. And those are just the two we know of.”

A ripple of murmurs passed through the group like a tremor. Ben muttered something under his breath and crossed his arms tighter.

Stacy, perched backward on a chair near the back, didn’t say a word but was already pulling out her phone, tapping into her guild notes—curious to read up on the named guilds.

Scott leaned forward slightly, lips tight, clearly rattled.

Lea raised her hand, and silence fell.

“Jen told me her son was threatened—verbally—by a Golden Panther. One who knows she was one of the first players to reach Falkenhide. Now that her kid found a way over too, we can assume that kind of progress has the top guilds feeling... unstable. Hungry.”

She let that settle. The room was still. A few players shifted uncomfortably.

“They want answers. And eventually, those answers will lead to us. They’ll throw money and lies your way. Never forget that.”

Her eyes swept the room.

“Trust in your chosen family. Whatever they tempt you with will taste better earned through your own hands.”

A quiet hum of affirmation passed through the team. Even the skeptical ones nodded.

From across the room, Anna raised her hand.

“Toby and I go to the same school as her boy. Boss lady—should we keep an eye out for him?”

Before Lea could respond, Jen’s voice cut through with surprising sharpness.

“You’re a child. Don’t get involved in this.”

She sat a little straighter as all eyes turned to her.

“I plan to defuse the guilds’ interest—for now. If I succeed, they won’t have time to meddle in our lives. Focus on school.”

Even the ever-snarky Stacy gave her a solemn nod, fully agreeing with Jen.

Now, Jen moved to the next phase.

“The plan for the coming days will be costly,” she said, pulling up a world map on the shared holo-projector. Only explored areas were visible—everything else remained blurred.

She hesitated for only a second, then moved to the wall-mounted map and picked up a pen.

In silence, the room watched her draw.

One landmark. Then another.

Her movements were fluid. Deliberate. Confident.

Gradually, steadily, she filled the empty map. Sometimes she adjusted distances, shifted paths, even erased and corrected shapes.

The room had gone completely silent.

Finally, she circled a location far from any of their known zones.

“This is where I want your group to travel,” Jen said quietly. “You’ll use speed scrolls and presence-lowering potions. I can’t stress this enough—there’s not one beast in the blurred area we can handle at this level. But if we pass through undetected, a real chance to put distance between us and the guilds will emerge.”

She looked up, meeting each gaze.

“The journey will take eleven to fourteen hours on mounts that I’m renting. Once we get there… there’s a special quest. The reward will be vital to both our groups moving forward. So no matter what—we succeed.”

No one asked how she knew. But they were thinking it.

How had she drawn that map from memory?

How could she describe terrain they hadn’t explored?

Lea watched her with something unreadable in her eyes. There was awe, yes—but also wonder. And maybe a hint of something else.

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When the meeting adjourned, the group split off to their rooms to get settled and enter Thirian.

Jen, exhausted and heart still racing, sat on the edge of the bed—Lea’s, that is, since she'd be staying in her room until the snooping guilds backed off or lost interest.

That’s when the knock came.

“Come in,” she called, already guessing who it was.

Lea stepped inside, face tight, brows drawn into a familiar scowl that made Jen smile in spite of the tension.

“Come sit,” Jen said, patting the bedding beside her. “You standing there scowling at me isn’t helping my own nerves.”

When Lea didn’t move fast enough, Jen tugged at her arm—perhaps a little too hard.

The taller woman stumbled forward, caught herself on the headboard behind Jen, and froze—uncomfortably close. Her eyes flicked to Jen’s lips for a half-second before snapping away. Her jaw tightened.

She sat beside her quickly, heart clearly racing, though she’d die before admitting it.

Jen arched an eyebrow, still smiling.

“You came here for a reason, didn’t you?”

Lea cleared her throat, burning with intensity.

“It’s about Thirian... In our last VR game, the monetary value came from streams, viewer donations, and sponsors—while the best of the best competed in e-sport events. Even though I'm aware of the growing market and global interest from companies...”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Her brows furrowed.

“But this? This level of stalking and threats from companies that size? It makes no sense.”

She shook her head, sharp and frustrated.

“For a game? It’s not right. And Thirian hasn’t even allowed in-game capturing yet. There’s no one making money from content in-game. So why send corporate giants?”

Jen eyed her seriously, tone dipping lower.

She had the same questions. Even with her future knowledge, there had never been a solid answer as to why the game allowed an exchange of resources for money.

Only just before her time travel had she gotten the first clue—Tier Five and the special pods.

It wasn’t enough. Her gut warned her: if she pursued answers too quickly, she’d only draw danger. So she chose to share only what she could.

“Is streaming how you initially planned to make money in Thirian?” she asked.

Lea nodded.

Jen sighed.

“That’s fine—but you feel it, right? Thirian isn’t just a game. Streaming or international e-sports? That won’t cut it here.”

At her words, Lea frowned, confused and fiery.

“Then how else would a game generate money if not through content creation?”

“In a week or so, they’ll allow streams and content capture,” Jen added, “but that’s not where the money is.”

“In-game, there are resources—crystals, mana ores, beast loot, and more. All of them can be exchanged for real money.”

Lea blinked.

“What? Wait—no. That makes no sense. Who the hell is buying game items for real cash? That’s... crazy.”

Jen chuckled.

“It’s strange, but I’m not lying. Once the trial period ends, the guilds, the NPC merchants, and the royal factions will allow real-world exchange. And what’s just a game now will become something truly frightening. Those ready for it will shift the world order as we know it.”

Lea let out a low laugh, swearing under her breath.

“Then I really need to find a way to fund the rest of my Arrows’ headsets.”

She turned to Jen, eyes bright with determination.

“I’d like to renegotiate our terms. The thirty percent loot share and the death payouts—scrap them, I don’t care. What I want is a way to fund fourteen neuro-link headsets. My Arrows will pay you back in service. Just name your price.”

Jen smiled.

“I feel the same push. Like we’ve been on track but still falling behind.”

“I’d truly like your help for longer than the two weeks,” she added. “But let’s talk more about it after today’s session.”

Jen glanced at her clock. Just a few minutes until start.

Lea smiled, relieved there was room for negotiation.

“Without you, I’d still be in the starter town, leading a team of fifteen lost ducks. Instead, I’ve got level-thirteen warriors uncovering places the guilds haven’t even started to envy… yet I feel their looming presence on my neck.”

Jen reached over and gave Lea’s hand a squeeze.

“Then let’s try not to burn ourselves out. If we pull too hard, the ones who suffer will be the team. And as their friend, I don’t want that.”

Lea looked down at their hands—intertwined. Her expression shifted—passion cooling into something gentler.

Jen gave another gentle squeeze, then stood and pulled Lea up with her. She guided her to the door, gave her a playful shove, and closed it behind her, laughing to herself.

Lea’s a bit like me, she thought. New to friendships built on mutual trust. New to choosing people.

She made a silent promise to deepen it—this friendship she was building with Lea.

In Thirian, the world loaded around Jen in a smooth, glowing rush—buildings rising like memory from mist. The polished stone streets of Falkenhide came into view several pixels at a time, morning light cascading down marble towers and gilded rooftops.

Blue took a deep breath but didn’t linger.

Rushing on borrowed time, she made quick work of the shopping that needed doing. As much as it would come to sting, she planned to spend all her coins.

Helplessly, she watched her pouch grow lighter by the second.

Her first purchase was crucial to their mission: much-needed mounts. Silver-ranked flute mounts for twenty-two people—the price a whopping 500 silver per steed. And no, at this price, she was paying by the day. The mounts were very much a consumable, not something they got to keep.

Expensive? Yes. Painfully so. But they were fast—level 18 speed, sleek, responsive, and capable of terrain adaptation.

Next on her list: a one-time-use summoning scroll—7 gold. Custom-craftable. This scroll had no prior beast engraved into the runes. The buyer was meant to subdue their own summoning beast.

Her third purchase, meant specifically to deal with her current problems, was a vial that exuded mana, its dark red color ominous—a tell of its capabilities. This potion alone cost her 12 gold. Its use: masking a player’s stats, appearance, and all personal information temporarily.

The rest of her funds vanished into poisons, high-grade resistance potions, and enchantment trinkets.

Anything to tilt the odds of survival in their favor.

----------------------------------------

Roughly twenty minutes into gameplay, the Robin Arrows had assembled near Falkenhide’s eastern gate. The gates loomed high behind them, etched with spell-silver and ironwood runes.

NPC guards stood by, impassive, their gazes sweeping across the gathered players with mechanical indifference.

The team prepped in near silence—tightening belts, checking weapon enchants, applying buff potions. A ritual now routine, but still tense with the unknown.

Blue stood at the center, scroll in hand. It shimmered faintly in the morning light, delicate ink forming half-complete runes across its surface.

Gronk, ever curious, stepped closer.

“You said it’s a summoning scroll—but what kind of beast does it call forth? How does it work?”

Blue smiled.

“This scroll was initially made for tamers. You draw the runes, enchant it, and force a beast of your choosing to submit.”

Poison whistled.

“Damn, that sounds OP as fuck. Especially if you had a high-leveled beast.”

Blue rolled her eyes.

“The only way to do that is if you have the power to subdue such a beast to start with. And if you have that power, the need for it quickly becomes moot.”

She paused, letting the thought settle.

“Besides, when given a choice, not all beasts submit.”

At the group’s confused looks, she elaborated:

“Some will surrender at ten percent health. Others? Even with half a percent of their life force left—will choose death.”

Happy Riddler, blanching and misty-eyed, clearly distraught by the idea, asked softly,

“What happens when the mana runs out?”

Blue winced.

“Well... they die, I guess.”

Poison Ivy nodded.

“Yep. I’d choose death. Hell no would I fight for my captor just to die in vain.”

Blue chuckled.

“Right? I totally agree.”

Then, without fanfare, she sliced her palm with a silver dagger and muttered a spell in an ancient-sounding tongue—submitting her soul and being to the scroll and its wielder.

Her blood hit the parchment like ink to fire—spreading, shimmering red, then deepening to pitch black. The scroll pulsed once, sealing.

Satisfied, she rolled it up and handed it to Fireblade.

“Summon me when you reach the rendezvous point.”

Fireblade frowned.

“You wasted all that gold just to skip a twelve-hour ride?”

Blue smirked and pulled out a vial of shimmering red liquid. Without hesitation, she downed its contents and pulled her hood up.

“Aren’t you going to ask if I die when that scroll loses mana?” she quipped, clearly enjoying Fireblade’s startled reaction.

With the potion taking effect, her player mark above her head flickered once. Then shifted—from green to pitch black.

All her stats blinked: ??

“I didn’t skip the ride. I can’t be in two places at once unless I pay an absurd amount. So... I paid the price to ensure I can be here, ready to warmly greet the guilds of Veron Kingdom.”

Fireblade sighed—exasperated, but also resigned. Blue was strong and capable. Talking her out of this was impossible.

She reminded herself: the contract they’d signed gave Blue the right to assign missions as she saw fit. Worrying openly would only shake the team’s confidence.

So she bit it back.

Happy Riddler didn’t.

“I could stay back,” he said. “Help you.”

Blue shook her head, her voice firm but kind.

“We need you there. We need all the strength we have where you’re going. Go.”

Fireblade watched the moment with something tight and hot curling in her chest.

Of course it was Happy who said the thing she’d been biting back.

Of course it was him who got that look from Blue—that softened edge, that rare flicker of warmth.

She didn’t say a word. Just stepped behind him, laid a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed—harder than necessary. Ignoring his wince. Ignoring the glare Jen shot her.

“Mount up,” she said briskly.

The Robin Arrows activated their flute tokens—twenty-one mounts appearing in gleaming bursts of light. Each one sleek, silver-toned, with eyes that glowed faintly. High-speed travel mounts.

Poison whooped from the back of hers, gripping the reins like a thrill-seeker.

Happy, Gronk, and the others followed suit quickly, forming their riding formation.

Then, like a flash of silver lightning, they were gone—hooves pounding against dirt roads, kicking up dust clouds before melting into the distant fields beyond the city.

Blue watched them go.

Alone again at the city gate, her hood casting a deep shadow over her eyes, she turned slowly and vanished down a side alley—steps quiet, cloak whispering with motion.

A ghost among the crowd.

If the guilds were still watching...

They were about to learn what it meant to stalk the wrong player.