They mostly dined in silence, sitting at the kitchen island.
Astrid glanced at Alan every so often. He was chewing each bite with deliberate care. Yet he finished the meal first.
"Hey, this is really good! Can I have another one, please?"
"As many as you want. Do you also fancy a cup of tea or coffee?"
"Coffee, please."
She reached for the mugs on autopilot while her mind trailed off.
We haven't seen each other in years, and we're acting as if nothing has happened.
She wanted to ask a hundred questions, but was too afraid of messing it up.
What if he disappears again the moment I open my bloody mouth? I'm also scared of him not… trusting me.
Five years was a long time.
Time enough to forget someone's face.
But not for Astrid Bradford…
She remembered every single time they hunted down monsters together, every chest they opened, the meals they shared, even the inside jokes they had come up with and all of his quirks. And if her theory was correct—that Alan had been disconnected from The Novus and sent back to the real world—that was even better.
That would mean that for Alan, only a year had passed.
Because time in The Novus runs five times faster than normal. So he wouldn't have had the time to change and forget, right?
I'd love to believe that, but… the old Alan would have already made a quip or tried to make me laugh.
Preparing the hot beverages followed the same logic as the frozen food. Once Astrid had two mugs ready, she tapped on them, a small virtual window appeared, and she pressed the slider to hot. Alan watched the process, fascinated, marveling at the steam already curling upward.
When he noticed the second package of fish and chips going through the same process, he said, "The coffee has a one-minute timer, and the food a three-minute one. The Developers could have made it all instant, but they didn't. Maybe because they didn't want us to forget that cooking takes time. It's just like the still-existing need to shower, eat, and sleep. They could have made our avatars odorless, impervious to hunger and tireless, but no! They want us to remember our humanity and—"
He cut off mid-sentence and looked at Astrid staring at him, perplexed, before she burst into laughter.
"There it is! That's the Alan I remember," she said, chuckling. "Now I'm pretty sure you're not an impostor."
"Did you have doubts?"
"No. It's just a figure of speech. I just missed that side of you. Remember I used to call you 'Alanytical'?"
"Of course I remember. Just like I used to call you 'Astronomical', given your obsession with naming your attacks after astronomy terms. Meteor this, Universal that."
Astrid looked away, embarrassed. "Ah, yeah. I… I still do that."
"That's why I named the guild the way I did. Because I knew you'd love it. 'Shooting Stars'... Like the first Special Move you ever performed."
Astrid's mind went blank as she stared at the man sitting across from her.
For a brief moment, she found herself comparing him to an old image from back when they had just started their adventure.
Despite some physical differences—hair length and muscle growth—he was still the same.
There was no doubt about it.
And yet.
Her throat went dry.
This was the moment to ask him about that.
"Alan…"
"Can I ask you a favor?" he interrupted, eyes on his coffee. "Could you tell me everything you know about these glitches affecting the system? What's causing them? Please."
She sealed her lips tight, swallowed her own questions, and smiled. "Of course, Alan. I'll tell you everything I know. Although it's not much."
The noise from the city faded. Something about the moment felt sealed off from the rest of the world.
Astrid straightened her posture, tucked some golden strands behind her right ear, before resting her arms on the island, her green tea between her hands. Her teenish face turned all-business in an instant—a reminder to Alan that this was one of her natural gifts.
She began in a calm, neutral tone.
"The glitches started two months ago. Although not all regions have been affected, this is presumably a widespread issue.
"The first confirmed case is a well-kept secret, so I don't know if there's a Patient Zero, or anything close to that. At the time, the Administrators sent their Moderators to deal with what they believed would be a one-time issue. But as more problems emerged, they were overwhelmed quickly, and had to outsource these missions to guilds like ours.
"They frame them as quests, as a way to instill familiarity into something none of us truly understand. They even offer rewards as incentive. Though I truly believe this is an issue no one should be ignoring regardless.
"The quests are mostly hunting raids. If anything besides monsters has been affected, I wouldn't know. If other guilds have been assigned tasks beyond killing, I wouldn't know that either.
"The affected monsters have all shown the same characteristics: they yield no experience points or gear, and they perform tasks outside their programming stubbornly--sometimes ruthlessly--pursuing newfound objectives. In the case of humanoid bosses, they speak outside their scripts.
"Monsters have been spotted roaming outside their spawn areas, multiplying independently, gaining additional skills, accumulating stats, and attempting to enter Safe Zones, which is something completely unheard of until now."
She paused to sip her tea.
"Does every monster get fixed when killed?" Alan asked.
"Yes. It seems whatever corrupted code they carry gets deleted the moment they enter the spawning phase, which is similar to the waiting period a user goes through after being killed."
"Any news about glitched NPCs?"
Astrid tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "None that I know of personally. But it wouldn't surprise me. For all we know, the Moderators work quietly, and the Administrators haven't released everything to the public yet. "
"You said you wouldn't know if things besides monsters can get infected. Like places?"
"You mean, like a whole dungeon?"
"It doesn't have to be a dungeon. It could be something as unassuming as a restaurant."
Astrid cast her eyes down. "Have you encountered something like that, Alan? In Windexeter, perhaps?"
Alan shrugged, poking his battered fish with a fork. "I don't know if what I saw counts as glitched, Astrid."
"Well, what do you think? What did your gut say?"
Alan met her eyes. "That it was wrong. And that I couldn't leave it alone."
"I see," she said softly. "Could you tell me what happened in Windexeter? How did you handle the Bunyard situation?"
He did, as best as he could.
Alan was not as articulate as Astrid—he tended to ramble and double back on himself—but she listened carefully without interrupting.
The part about recruiting Bella made her shake her head.
"Hold on. I didn't want to say anything until you finished, but you have to walk me through this. An NPC joined your party? Like… like how Monster Tamers train mobs to fight for them?"
"I don't know about that, but that pretty much sums it up, yes. And Anastasia is part of the team too, remember?"
Flustered, Astrid opened her User Interface and began scrolling. "I think it's time I check a message I've been putting off. You just sparred with Marissa, right?"
After a few taps, a wide virtual window materialized between them, projecting the footage toward each of them simultaneously—Alan could watch the same recording from his side without it being mirrored.
It was his fight against Marissa Laflamme.
"Awesome! Did Tamara record it?" he asked, resuming his dinner.
"The gym did it automatically, and it's accessible to anyone in the guild. Marissa messaged me to check it out and I didn't think much of it. Let's watch."
At first, Astrid did not comment—mostly holding her tongue, since Alan's performance was lackluster. But the moment a female NPC stepped into the arena, Astrid's expression mirrored the bewilderment of everyone else who had been watching at the time.
She jolted from her seat and leaned toward the floating projection when Marissa was tossed to the ground. Her heart rate even spiked when the score updated to one to one.
That NPC got Marissa fair and square! Wait… does this mean Alan made that possible?
"That's Anastasia," Alan said, munching on chips. "She's been my partner for the last week. Munch. Ah, look. The one with short hair knocking Marissa aside is Bella. Munch-munch."
"I see…" A nervous laugh escaped her. "N-Now I feel bad about leaving them behind!"
"Nah, it's fine. You didn't know. Besides, this place is safe thanks to the shield around the city, right? I just hope Tamara and Marissa convinced them to stay put and not go looking for me."
Astrid closed the projection, leaving nothing between their gazes. A concerned frown had settled on her face.
An ability that lets him command NPCs? Is there a class I don't know about?
"Alan…" she started, struggling to find the words. "Do you… Can you show me your Anima?"
"My what now?"
"Oh, you don't have one yet?" she muttered to herself, tapping her chin. "It's okay. Never mind."
That was another unknown variable in the puzzle. And Astrid's gut was telling her that Alan's sudden disappearance and consequent return—carrying an ability no one had seen before—were connected.
Or am I jumping to conclusions?
"Alan, could you please tell me—?"
"Do you mind if I sleep here, Astrid?"
Her mind went blank.
"Excuse me, c-could you… Could you repeat that?"
"Tamara said there are dorms at the HQ, but…" he said, his eyes already heavy. "Please?"
She looked at the empty tray and mug in front of him. When did he finish that?
The color red spread from her cheeks to her ears.
"O-Of course! A-As I already told you, you can use my facilities however you like!"
"Thanks, Astrid," he said softly, but she did not hear it.
She had already turned her back to him and was leaning against the sink, trying to steady her heartbeat.
Wait just a bloody minute! What's the meaning of this? Is he implying that we should… share a bed?!
She covered her flushed face and squealed.
No-no-no-no! Even though Alan is a straightforward guy, he'd at least try to soften his words in a situation like this, right?
A-And besides… It's been five years for me. I don't think I'm prepared to—!
She heard snoring from the living room.
Turning around, she found Alan already asleep on the couch, shoes off.
"Oh…"
Astrid relaxed—and somehow felt a little disappointed at the same time.
He fell asleep the moment he laid down. Was he this exhausted?
She crouched in front of him and exhaled.
Don't tell me you haven't been able to rest in a long time.
Then it hit her.
Is it because you feel safe here, Alan? Is that why you can finally sleep without a care in the world?
After pouting for a moment, she rose to her feet and nodded to herself. She moved the living room's coffee table aside, strode to her room, carried her mattress out, and placed it beside the couch.
Without changing into pajamas, she just flopped down onto it and sighed.
Was she afraid he would suddenly disappear again if she took her eyes off him for even an instant?
Maybe.
"I couldn't even ask where you've been this whole time," she whispered, staring at his sleeping face.
He looked at peace.
Ah, whatever. Tomorrow will be another day… and the first time in a long time I actually look forward to it.
"Rest well, Alan Warden," she said quietly. She turned off the lights with a clap, and to her own surprise, her eyes shut not long after.
-- 8.1 --
Another guild member had pulled up Alan and Marissa's sparring footage at the same time.
Marco Souza, Shooting Stars' second in command, had the fight projected on the largest screen in the Recreational Room #1 and watched it from the red leather couch.
Sitting to his right was Amelia Laflamme, reaching for her coffee mug, cranking the temperature to maximum, making a thick column of steam rise like a white curtain, and gulping it down as if it were a vodka shot.
A system message appeared in her line of sight.
+---------------------+
Passive Skill Activated!
'Heat Endurance Lv. Max'
*You downed that scalding brew like it was room‑temp—You're basically a living furnace!
+---------------------+
She exhaled and turned to Marco. "Found something interesting?"
Marco raised an index finger without taking his golden eyes off the screen. "Hold on. It's not finished yet." A half-smile crossed his face.
Amelia sighed and sank into the couch, crossing her arms, pushing up her bountiful cleavage.
Why was she feeling upset all of a sudden?
She then heard a loud slurping sound from Faiza beside her, who was enthusiastically eating ramen.
"He's quite engrossed in that video, huh," Faiza commented, her face partially obscured by the panda hoodie on her head. "Can he even focus with all this noise?"
Amelia looked past Matthew Bernstein and Jason Foreman, who were causing a ruckus over a holographic card game, before settling her gaze on the two guilders inside the Damage Calculator booths, Version 5.1.
Despite starting as a simple minigame, it had grown into a reliable benchmark for raw power.
William, The Stoic, was punching a mannequin set to the largest size possible. The humanoid punching bag stood only just taller than the muscular William, whose enormous back looked as sturdy as the shields he carried into battle.
He had been working the mannequin—stomach, ribs, torso—for a while, chasing his highest score yet: Silver C, enough to bring down a five-story apartment building. Then he drove into it with his right shoulder and hurled it against the white wall with a tremendous bang.
That single hit pushed his ranking to Silver A. But when he stepped out of the booth, he was shaking his head—his goal had been to reach that level with his fists alone.
The other guilder using the second Damage booth was Karin Svensson, the Multi-Elemental Witch, conjuring balls of fire, blades of ice, and gusts of wind at a target a hundred feet away. Her spells lacked finesse, firing with the chaotic enthusiasm of someone who had never heard the word 'aim.'
She could be heard yelling, "DIE, YOU BITCH!"
"There she is again," Faiza chuckled, mixing her noodles with chopsticks. "I bet she's pretending that the mannequin is Astrid."
Shards of ice and sparks scattered across the floor, the air alive with raw energy. The specialized white panels held, but outside this chamber, that firepower would have taken out half the HQ.
When the witch ran out of mana and the smoke cleared, a window appeared above an unscathed, dancing mannequin.
+---------------+
Amazing!
Damage Rank: Silver A!
+---------------+
Karin exited the booth with a satisfied smirk, tossing her straight black hair back. "I feel so much better now." She grabbed a blue bottle from the fridge, sipped it, and dropped into the seat across from her friends. "So, what's up?"
"Be quiet, you. The boss is trying to focus," Faiza hushed in a mocking tone.
When the recording looped back to the beginning, Marco made a sweeping motion and the screen returned to its previous pop song playlist.
"Are you done watching?" Amelia asked as he rose from his seat.
"I need a minute to think," Marco said softly, before strolling to the bar area where an NPC greeted him.
Karin glanced at Amelia and Faiza, snickering. "What? You're still going on about this Alan guy? That's easy to crack. Hey, Jason!"
"What the hell do you want?" the young man yelled back from the games table.
"You're the one who brought that Alan fellow here. What can you tell us about him?"
"I didn't bring him here, Tamara did! And I don't have a freaking opinion about the guy, okay?!"
"Someone sounds salty," Karin said, turning back to her friends.
"I FUCKING HEAR THAT!" Jason spun to Matthew and hissed, "Seriously, what's the big deal?"
Matthew smiled gently as he shuffled his deck. "Well, can you blame us? What we thought was nothing but a bug on the guild member list suddenly showed up at our door. Of course we're curious. Even Astrid—who was always vague when anyone asked—just grabbed the guy and took off. Isn't that something?"
Jason loathed when Matthew smiled like that. His glossy curly bangs framing a well-sculpted face that screamed 'boy band member' sometimes made him gag.
"Whatever," Jason huffed. "Would you get on with it already? You've been on this turn for five minutes!"
"Well, I couldn't care less," Karin said, finishing her bottle. "It's not as if Alan is going to suddenly become our Guild Master, right?"
"Wouldn't it be funny if he took your role as Vice Captain of the Mage Division?" Faiza sneered, making Karin wrinkle her nose.
"Fuck you. Is he even a mage, anyway?"
"The real question is…" Amelia interjected, expression brooding. "Where has he been this whole time?"
"Isn't it obvious? He's been outside," William said, taking a seat beside Amelia. Not a drop of sweat on him despite the workout. His tank top strained against his pectorals—even bigger than Amelia's—that swelled as he spoke in a low, hoarse voice. "Just think about it. His status was offline for who knows how long, and he suddenly appears unannounced. You said even Astrid was surprised."
"I wouldn't say surprised," Amelia replied, tapping her chin. "I'd say she looked… relieved?"
What the fuck am I even saying?
The redhead reprimanded herself, sinking her red nails into her arms.
"I don't trust him." Marco stepped in, a glass of scotch in hand.
If anyone deserved the title of Lead Singer of a boy band, it was Marco. Unlike the boyish-looking Matthew, Marco carried himself with an elegance and charming masculinity that not even the hulking William could match.
Amelia had been eager to hear his opinion—everyone in the room trusted his word without question. But his opening statement left her bewildered.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"How does the Novus' leveling system work, Amelia?" Marco asked, loud enough for the whole room to hear.
"Like a video game."
"The system is built on obsession," Marco stated, pacing around the couch. "It tracks every action you repeat and compounds the returns. The more you sink into a single craft, the more the world bends to reward it. Chop a hundred trees and you can take down anything with an axe. Cast nothing but fire spells and you become an expert Pyromancer." He extended a hand toward Amelia as an example.
"So how the hell did he become an NPC trainer?" William said, crossing his enormous arms. "Is that what you're getting at?"
"Yes. You saw it yourself, Amelia. The guy didn't even land a hit on your sister. But the moment that 'flopper' entered the arena… How long has Alan Warden been hiding in the back lines for his pets to reach that level?"
"And how did he even get them to fight?" Faiza asked without looking up.
"Simple!" Karin chimed in. "He managed some run-down business, pushed the NPCs to the front after aggroing a few monsters, and after a while they learned to defend each other through repetition. Right?"
"How he developed the skill is beside the point. The issue is, can we trust a man who's always behind his maids' skirts?"
"You say it as if belonging in the back lines is a bad thing," Jason muttered, just loud enough.
"You know what I mean, old friend." Marco chuckled. "In conclusion, let Astrid handle her new toy. As long as she doesn't hand over a captain's seat to him, we carry on as usual."
"What about the Snow Diamonds' offer?" Amelia threw out the question that made every head turn toward Marco.
His expression stayed serene, a steady smile in place. "I'm still reviewing it. No need to worry about it."
He set his empty glass down—a quiet signal that the conversation was over—and walked toward one of the Damage Calculator's booths. His movements were followed by the long-haired redhead's longing gaze.
Marco stepped in. The mannequin reset and waited, prancing in its usual clownish way.
From beneath his feet, a shadow spread, rapidly swallowing the confined space in pitch-black darkness, blocking even the view from outside.
By then, the others had drifted back to their own business: Matthew and Jason started another round, Karin and Faiza put in an order at the food bar, and William got up for a drink.
"Something for you, beautiful?" William asked, glancing at Amelia.
"A Rosé over ice, please," she replied without taking her eyes off the booth.
The darkness withdrew back into Marco's body, revealing the results.
Damage Rank: Silver E.
A rating far below his peers, but the difference was in the collapsed mannequin that had to be replaced with a new one.
Seeing that sent a shiver down the girl's spine.
"We have a new Admin quest, people," Marco announced, dismissing the virtual window hovering at his side. "Why don't we take our dear founder for a walk and see what he can do?"