Hu Tao's trek through Resident Evil's mansion pressed on, her fingers guiding Jill into a trap's jaws—floorboards gave way, a plunge halted only by Barry's swift grab, yanking her back from a dark pit she hadn't seen coming.
They traded words, a brief respite—then split again, Barry peeling off despite her protests, leaving Hu Tao to mutter, "Why can't you stick together? Safety trumps speed, you dolt!" her exasperation a hiss at the game's relentless divide-and-conquer dance.
Zombies lurked in every shadow—this creaking pile was a den of the undead, and who knew what worse horrors coiled unseen—so Barry's lone march felt like a taunt, a baited hook she couldn't reel back.
She sighed, resigned—Jill roamed solo once more, scavenging bullets and herbs, trading shots with shambling corpses, her shotgun's roar a comfort against their groans, though Hu Tao's gut whispered Barry's drift held some secret she couldn't yet pin.
A new face stumbled into view—Richard, a Bravo Team straggler, slumped and bleeding from a mutant boa's strike, his gasps pleading for serum, a task Jill shouldered as Hu Tao nodded, "Corpse poison, huh? Sounds like Teyvat's own brand."
She mused on the parallel—zombie bites in-game mirrored Teyvat's undead taint, a slow rot claiming the living, though Qiqi at Bubu Pharmacy danced a different tune, her zombified shell hiding a sprite's gentle spark.
Jill raced, serum secured—Richard stabilized, rewarding her with a shotgun, its heft a thrill Hu Tao savored, "This packs a punch, but ammo's stingy," her glee tempered by sparse shells, pistol still her go-to for lone walkers on easy mode.
Relief was short-lived—the mutant boa reared, its scales glinting in the gloom, a behemoth that dwarfed her expectations, prompting a skeptical, "Guns for that? Good luck!" as she pumped rounds into its writhing mass.
Easy difficulty softened the beast—herb-stocked, Hu Tao endured its tail-whips, grit fueling Jill's fight, and Richard joined, his shots syncing with hers, a duo carving through scales until the snake slumped, lifeless at last.
Victory soured fast—the boa surged, jaws wide for Jill, and Richard shoved her clear, his scream swallowed as it gulped him down, a sacrifice that left Hu Tao gaping, "I saved you for that? You owe me, you snake-bait fool!"
Her liver quaked with rage—Richard's fresh rescue undone in a blink, his noble end a gut-punch; shotgun blazing, she pounded the boa back to death, her fury a storm that didn't ease the sting of his pointless fall.
"It's just a game," she huffed, snagging a soda to cool off, "but still—why'd he have to go?"—the realness of this otherworld tale gnawed at her, a death too vivid for a hall master used to ushering souls, not losing them.
Liam sauntered in, lunch in tow—Tier Harribel took her share, downing it with mechanical grace, then spoke, "Master Liam, I don't need food; no need to bother, a taste now and then suffices," her hollow logic clashing with his intent.
He wagged a finger—"Wrong, Harribel; I can skip meals too, but eating's more than fuel—it's joy, a slice of life you'll learn here, far from Hueco Mundo's barren rule," his correction a gentle nudge toward Teyvat's warmer ways.
She nodded, green eyes steady—"Understood, Master Liam; I'll adapt," her agreement crisp, a queen bending to a new court's customs, her stoic shell cracking just enough to let his lesson seep through.
Liam scanned the cafe mid-chat—two fresh faces caught his eye: Xingqiu of Feiyun Commerce Guild, bookish and sly, and Chongyun, the exorcist with ice in his veins, a pair tethered by mischief and valor wherever they roamed.
Back from a jaunt, they'd heard Liyue's buzz about his digital den—arriving late, they snagged one seat, Chongyun claiming it while Xingqiu perched behind, peering over his shoulder, a duo content to share the thrill.
Chongyun dove into Resident Evil, picking Chris's path—his tale echoed Jill's in broad strokes, a choice that mattered little upfront, though Xingqiu's hovering grin hinted he'd nudge the exorcist through every jump and jolt.
Most players today—save Tartaglia—eased into easy mode, a stroll through Raccoon's horrors, but the Harbinger craved hard difficulty, his mad grin chasing the first-pass crown Liam tied to the toughest gauntlet alone.
Hu Tao pressed on, her ire cooling—Jill's journey wove combat with clues, a rhythm she'd mastered, the mutant boa's sting fading as she hunted keys and kicked corpses, her hall-master cool reclaiming its perch atop her VIP throne.
***
Support me on Patreon to read 50+ advanced chapters: patreon.com/Nocturnal_Breeze