"Move it, Ethan! Our flight is this morning! We still have to rush to the venue this afternoon—time doesn't wait for anyone! Get out of bed!"
It was a little past 8:00 a.m. on September 10th.
Half-awake, Ethan Reed listened to Vivian Frost's voice blasting from his phone. He rubbed his stomach, yawned deeply, and shuffled to the window. When he pulled the curtain aside, sunlight flooded in—and so did the sight below.
A white car was parked by the roadside.
Vivian stood beside it.
She was dressed in a black business suit, tailored and sharp, paired with long black trousers and short black high heels. Her hair was tied into a neat bun, exposing a clean, pretty face with light professional makeup.
She looked exactly like what people imagined when they heard the words young CEO.
And yet…
Despite the outfit, despite the posture, she somehow still carried a trace of childish energy—
like a kid sneaking into adult clothes and trying very hard to look serious.
As if sensing his gaze, Vivian suddenly looked up.
Their eyes met.
She raised her arm and waved sharply. "Hurry up and come down! We don't have much time left!"
Then, as if that wasn't enough pressure, she added, "It's an hour and a half to the airport! We have to leave now!"
Ethan yawned again, leaning against the window frame. "So… why didn't we leave yesterday?"
Vivian's smile vanished instantly.
She glared up at him with pure resentment. "You're really asking me that?"
She folded her arms. "Who stayed up all night changing code? If someone didn't suddenly decide to refactor half the system, we wouldn't be leaving today!"
Ethan froze for a second—then let out two awkward chuckles.
Yeah. That one was on him.
Last night, he had stayed up until dawn.
Four months should've been more than enough to finish Neon Myth IV—
if they were making the trimmed version.
But Ethan didn't want trimmed.
He wanted the complete version.
New modes. Expanded storylines. A deeper combat structure.
If technology and budget allowed, he would've torn out the turn-based system entirely and rebuilt the game as a full action RPG.
Turn-based combat always felt… dull.
Still, even within limits, he pushed hard. He added new story arcs—especially the Divine Realm storyline, a section focused heavily on action mechanics and character-driven combat.
That decision alone caused Daniel and the other junior programmers endless headaches. Bugs multiplied like weeds.
And then there was the money problem.
Even though Night of the Full Moon and Climb or Break had sold extremely well, Neon Myth IV was burning cash at a terrifying rate.
In just two months, costs had already exceeded two million.
Over one million of that had gone straight to outsourced CG production—specifically to Mooncrest Studio.
Could Northstar Games make CG internally?
Yes—if Ethan personally led it.
But time was the enemy.
So with a single word from Ethan, Vivian had waved her hand and approved the outsourcing deal without hesitation.
Mooncrest Studio, meanwhile, was panicking.
Because the concept sketches Ethan sent over?
They were… abstract. Painfully abstract.
As a result, Ethan had been under constant pressure lately.
Which explained why they were now scrambling to catch a flight.
Below the window, Vivian stomped her foot. "Stop asking questions and come downstairs!"
Still groggy, Ethan raised a hand and made an OK sign. "Give me five minutes. I'll wash up and come down."
"And change your clothes!" Vivian added quickly. "You might need to go on stage!"
The call ended.
Five minutes later, Ethan came downstairs.
The moment Vivian saw him step out of the old stairwell—
Casual clothes. Hoodie. Comfortable pants.
Her fist clenched.
I really want to hit him.
She told him to dress properly.
"Let's go, Boss," Ethan said, still half-asleep. "I'm ready."
Vivian glanced at the time, stomped her foot again, then snapped,
"Ethan Reed, you old menace—forget it, get in the car! If we don't leave now, we're done!"
So what if he didn't change clothes?
A programmer's formal wear was a plaid shirt anyway.
Even if he walked on stage like this, no one would dare say anything.
Time was running out.
Vivian yanked open the passenger door and shoved him inside, then hurried to the driver's side.
"Boss," Ethan said lazily, "you can't drive in high heels."
"Do I need you to teach me?" she snapped. "I'll take them off!"
She grabbed a shoebox, got out, opened the back door, and bent down to change shoes.
Ethan glanced at the rearview mirror.
He saw her fingers hook the short heels aside.
Her small foot, wrapped in thin black socks, lifted gently into the air. The fabric was sheer enough to outline the smooth curve of her heel. Her foot arched lightly as she slipped out of the shoe.
She opened the box.
Inside were a pair of white sneakers—the ones she always wore.
She slid her feet in and stomped down firmly.
Her feet were small enough that Ethan thought, vaguely, I could probably hold one in a single hand.
Moments later, Vivian returned to the driver's seat.
"Let's go," she said. "Depart."
Ethan stared at her.
"What?" she frowned, fastening her seatbelt.
"Why didn't you just wear sneakers from the start?"
She snorted. "A suit with sneakers at a formal event looks weird."
"So you change shoes right in front of me?"
She smirked, starting the engine. "Relax. They don't smell. Actually, my feet smell good."
Ethan responded without thinking.
"I don't believe it. Unless you let me smell them."
The car went silent.
Vivian's foot hovered over the gas pedal.
She slowly turned her head and stared at him.
"?"
Good heavens.
What kind of nonsense did she just hear?
Pervert.
---
Arrival at Lumen City
Lumen City—one of the four core metropolitan hubs—was exactly as overwhelming as expected.
After landing, Ethan and Vivian walked through the massive airport terminal like complete outsiders.
"This place is huge," Vivian said, looking around. "Do you think the airport in Neon Capital is even bigger?"
"Haven't you been here before?" Ethan asked.
They were traveling light—no luggage, no spare clothes. Just a one-night stay before flying back the next evening.
Vivian shook her head. "I don't travel much. I mostly stayed home gaming. After founding Northstar in my sophomore year, I had even less time."
"So you're a homebody."
She rolled her eyes. "Says you. Have you been here?"
Ethan coughed. "No. I've mostly lived in the north."
Neither in his past life nor this one had he explored the south.
Vivian bumped his waist lightly with her elbow, then checked the time.
"Let's eat something quick, then take the subway."
"Direct?"
"Direct," she nodded confidently. "Big cities are convenient."
She had done her research—airport to exhibition center by subway, thirty minutes.
They grabbed fast food at the airport.
Expensive. Small portions. Terrible value.
"I'm never eating airport food again," Vivian muttered angrily as they left.
Fifty for mushroom chicken rice with barely any chicken.
Twenty-seven for plain spicy noodles.
A robbery.
The subway was crowded.
They were squeezed into a corner, bodies close. Vivian leaned lightly against Ethan, and when he lowered his head, he caught a faint orange-scented fragrance from her hair.
Her phone rang.
She answered softly. "Hello… yes, we're already on the subway… backstage entrance, right? Okay. We'll be there soon. Sorry."
She hung up and looked up.
Their eyes met.
Vivian looked away first, then kicked his calf lightly with her sneaker.
"They're rushing us! This is your fault for wasting time!"
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "My fault? Who suggested eating?"
"I thought you were hungry!"
"When did I say that? Didn't you say there was plenty of time, that the subway was convenient, and that you'd done your homework?"
"..."
"Boss said no backtalk!"
Someone immediately started acting shameless.
Ethan chuckled, watching Vivian turn to face the subway wall, ears faintly red.
She was the CEO of a game company.
And yet traveling with her felt like going on a high-school outing.
Hair done like an adult. Suit perfectly tailored.
But with that baby-soft face—
Vivian Frost was never going to pass as a calm, mature adult.
Ethan shook his head, amused.
Ridiculous.
And somehow… comforting.
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