Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended

The rain from the night before hadn’t relented entirely—a fine mist still hung in the cool morning air. Water droplets clung to every leaf and blade of grass, gleaming like tiny jewels.

Daisuke followed a few paces behind Thalia as they walked through the forest. His boots squelched against the damp ground, the air carrying the faint smell of wet earth and moss. In contrast to his usual unreadable demeanor, his expression was softer now, a quiet respect evident in the way he carried himself.

Soon they approached a small clearing where the forest seemed to bow out in reverence. In its center lay a modest cemetery, marked by rows of weathered stone markers half-claimed by creeping ivy. The ground here was covered in patches of grass, and a low-lying mist curled around the bases of the gravestones, giving the place an ethereal quality.

Thalia stopped in front of a gravestone near the edge of the clearing, her steps faltering slightly. The stone was simple but well-kept, the name “Murvah” etched into its surface along with a small carving of a feather—a symbol, Daisuke guessed, of gentleness and freedom.

The dejected guild clerk knelt by the grave, brushing her fingers over the inscription as if seeking some long-lost connection. She was quiet for a long moment, her shoulders trembling ever so slightly.

“…She was the kindest person I ever knew,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “She raised and loved me like her own.”

Daisuke remained silent, his gaze shifting from Thalia to the gravestone. He could feel the weight of her emotions in the stillness of the air. After a moment, he stepped closer and placed a small bundle of wildflowers—picked earlier on their walk—beside the grave. He wasn’t sure if it was the right gesture, but it felt appropriate.

“She must’ve been remarkable,” he said softly, his voice devoid of the usual edge it carried.

Thalia gave a faint nod, her fingers curling tightly into the fabric of her jacket. “She always told me… to be strong, even when life feels impossible.” Her voice hitched as she added, “I just wish she could’ve been here longer.”

Daisuke’s gaze lingered on her as he reminisced about his parents—both the real and the virtual, understanding flickering in his eyes. “It’s not about how long someone’s with you,” he said after a moment. “It’s about the impact they leave behind. Sounds like Murvah left you with a lot.”

A single tear slid down Thalia’s cheek as she smiled faintly while nodding. “She did… and I’m eternally grateful.”

Daisuke smiled warmly.

At the same time, the rain began to ease and a fragile beam of sunlight broke through the canopy, illuminating the gravestone and the figures standing before it. It felt, if only for a fleeting moment, as though the forest itself acknowledged their presence and shared in the quiet reverence for a life once lived.

***

WHUUU~

Thalia’s shoulder-cropped hair swayed in a strong breeze as they stopped in front of the guild. As she held tendrils of hair behind her ear, she took a quiet moment to admire his profile as he gazed unseeingly at the familiar structure ahead.

Her heart ached with a bittersweet melody as a looming thought struck her—after today, she might never see him again. The idea was unbearable, cutting deeper than she expected. Every fiber of her being screamed to close the distance, to throw herself into his arms and bare the tempest of emotions he had stirred within her. Yet, she swallowed the impulse, locking the words away behind a fragile wall of resolve.

Daisuke was an adventurer—a soul destined for freedom, driven by the dream of exploring the world. His strength belonged to the people, a gift she had no right to tether. The mere thought of binding him with the weight of her unspoken feelings was enough to shatter her heart, piece by aching piece.

“…Haxks,” she called softly, drawing his attention. “Thank you again for everything. You even managed to get my bag back.”

“No need to thank me,” Daisuke replied with a soft smile. “Honestly, I should be the one thanking you—without your lessons, I wouldn’t be where I am now.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Thalia replied, her smile matching his warmth. “Seems the guild made the right call with the academy after all.”

Daisuke gave a small nod. “So, will you be heading back to work now?”

The clerk slowly shook her head. “I usually take a few days off for the anniversary,” she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

“I understand…”

“When will you be leaving?” she asked, her tone slipping into something more guarded.

“Today.”

Thalia’s heart sank at his response.

“I just have a few things to wrap up before I go.”

“I see,” she murmured, her eyes drifting down as she absentmindedly stepped on the toe of her boot with the other. “Haxks,” she called hesitantly, then paused, biting her lip. “I… don’t be a stranger, okay?”

Daisuke’s eyes softened, and he gave a small, reassuring smile at her awkward grin. “I won’t.”

***

“Haxks! Just the man I was waiting for,” Cleave greeted with a wide grin as Daisuke quietly entered the room. “Everything’s ready to go.”

Just like before, the expansive butchery was meticulously organized with rows upon rows of tables displaying hundreds of pristine monstron cuts, hides, and various other materials. Each piece was paired with Cleave’s carefully put together notes that offered clear guidance on whether to sell or retain each item.

“Impressive work as always,” Daisuke remarked, offering a faint smile in Cleave’s direction. However, his expression shifted—now tinged with worry and guilt, when his eyes caught the dark circles etched beneath the man’s weary gaze. “Sorry for making you do all this,” he murmured regretfully. “I take it you didn’t get much help this time?”

“Sorry?” the man repeated quizzically, taking a deep swig from a weathered metal flask.

Daisuke frowned. Is this old man seriously drinking on the job right now?

“There’s no need to apologize,” Cleave sighed with satisfaction after taking another gulp of the suspicious beverage. “I love what I do, and I got plenty of help this time around, as well.”

Daisuke arched one brow curiously. “Then why do you look so exhausted?”

Cleave let out a sly smirk, a faint flush coloring his cheeks as he reminisced. “This is a bit embarrassing, but the boys and I may have underestimated the Ekimmu’s aphrodisiac a little too much. It was so potent that we ended up getting carried away at the brothel. We ended up putting the courtesans out of commission. It may be a few days before they’re able to work again, and, well… the whoremistress banned us for a month, as a result.”

PAJIK!

A vein twitched in Daisuke’s temple. I just wasted all that energy worrying about this damn promiscuous jerk.

Cleave laughed heartily, slapping Daisuke on the back so hard it almost sent him flying. “I might not walk straight for a while, but every bit of it was worth it.”

Daisuke’s expression darkened, clearly irritated. “Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?”

Cleave leaned in with a sly grin, taking another swig from his flask. “Still got a little bit of that effect lingering, so even you look tempting right now.”

A chill ran down Daisuke’s spine. “And that’s my cue to get the hell out of here.”

Cleave let out another boisterous laugh, his booming voice echoing through the room. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

At the man’s teasing remark, Daisuke froze in his tracks. As his gaze skimmed over the unsorted merchandise, he couldn’t help but wonder how much more alluring Wallet-chan would look—her voluptuous form accentuated by the extra gold swelling in all the right places.

With a grunt, he clenched his jaw, already scheming. He had two choices—first, threaten the lecherous butcher with the possibility that his daughter would be devastated if she ever found out about his sinful intentions. Or, second—

Put the bastard to sleep while I go to work, he thought sinisterly as he materialized the Sturdy Club in his hands.

Obviously feeling a bit more reassured with the second option, Daisuke confidently spun around, prepared to beat the evil out of the menace. But to his astonishment, Cleave had fallen fast asleep while standing perfectly upright, his arms slack at his sides, his snoring monstrous.

“Tha’ heck!? That was quick!” Daisuke exclaimed, his nose wrinkling at the strong scent of alcohol on the man’s breath. “But honestly, this works out perfectly. I think I’ve had enough PTSD from that run-in with Reginald and that insane Orc. I really need a break.”