It was late Monday afternoon, and the office where Daniel worked was steeped in the heavy silence that always preceded the end of the shift.

  It was just shy of six o'clock. Daniel was fried, mentally drained after creating and editing dozens of spreadsheets. But now that the day's tasks were finally wrapped up and freedom was minutes away, he grabbed his phone to check his notifications.

  Dozens of messages flooded the screen. He scanned through them, realizing they were all from Artic and Niki. They were demanding their fair share of the iron stolen during the raid on the Wolf’s Lair Fortress.

  Reading so many messages typed in fury and frustration brought a faint smile to his face. Daniel leaned back in his chair and swiped the notifications away.

  However, a small glitch caused his app icons to vanish for a second, letting his wallpaper shine through in all its unobstructed glory.

  Seeing the photo he had taken with Julia brought back memories of their weekend together, and he drifted into a daydream. He was so distracted that he didn't hear the soft roll of office chair wheels gliding across the floor behind him.

  "So cute. Is that your girlfriend?"

  The sudden voice startled him so badly that the phone slipped from his grip. It hit the floor, bounced, and skittered backward into the aisle between the cubicles. Luckily, the case absorbed the impact, saving it from any real damage.

  When he turned around, he found his supervisor, Samara, picking up the device. She tapped the screen, eyeing the photo for a moment before handing it back.

  "Thanks," Daniel said, snatching the phone. He quickly addressed the question that had spooked him. "She’s my... friend."

  Samara’s expression was thick with suspicion.

  "Having a photo of a 'friend' as your wallpaper... seems a little suspect, don't you think?"

  Slowly, the other employees began to stand up from their cubicles, starting side conversations that drowned out the tension between the two. When Daniel looked back at his boss, she asked, "Where do you live?"

  "Near the mall, not too far from that luxury complex."

  Samara looked at him with surprise, as if she had assumed he lived inside those high-end buildings. Realizing the misunderstanding, he clarified, "I live in a regular building, but it's close to the ones you're thinking of."

  Samara nodded slowly. "That’s on my way. I can give you a ride if you want."

  He was ready to invent an excuse when she cut him off.

  "Don't tell me you'd rather take the bus?"

  Daniel sighed and accepted the offer. Samara went back to her cubicle, shoved her things into her purse, grabbed her keys, and headed for the exit.

  He followed her to the door, glancing back one last time to kill the lights as they were the last ones to leave.

  ***

  The engine purred as the car navigated the streets of Florianópolis. Daniel sat in the passenger seat, watching pedestrians hurry along the sidewalks while bobbing his head to the electronic beat thumping from the car's speakers.

  Suddenly, the volume cut in half. Daniel turned to the dashboard and saw Samara releasing the volume knob.

  She glanced at him sideways before returning her eyes to the road. Her full lips parted. "Tell me more about that friend of yours."

  Daniel took a deep breath. "She’s my ex..."

  She let out a suggestive whistle. "And you still have her picture as your wallpaper?"

  "We’re still friends..."

  "But didn't you fight when you broke up?" Samara asked, flicking the turn signal to merge into the left lane.

  "It was a mutual decision," Daniel replied as the car drifted into the other lane.

  Samara floored it, overtaking a vehicle on the right. As she finished the maneuver, she let out a dry laugh. "I seriously doubt that was mutual..."

  Daniel was about two seconds away from telling her to pull over, but since she was his boss, his tolerance for this kind of commentary had to be higher. He turned his face toward the window, signaling he was done with the conversation.

  Samara seemed to realize she had crossed a line when she stopped at a red light. She sighed, taking her hands off the wheel.

  "Geez, Samara, you really have no filter. Daniel, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to say that kind of stuff. It’s just... we never talk about anything other than work. So... I know there must be a good reason you two are still friends."

  It wasn't exactly the apology Daniel wanted to hear, but it was something.

  "Thanks," he said, watching the traffic light turn green.

  Samara, however, was distracted by her own apology. Just as he opened his mouth to warn her, the car behind them honked. In a snap, Samara’s smile vanished. She rolled down the window and flipped the bird at the guy in the pickup truck behind them.

  Daniel feared for his life.

  "Don't honk at me, asshole!" she shouted before stomping on the gas. "This city is full of clueless drivers."

  "Uh-huh," he agreed, trying not to agitate her any further.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  The drive continued in an intimidating silence for nearly a kilometer until his boss spoke up again. "I know about you."

  Daniel nearly had a heart attack.

  "I know you used to be a pro player. Mario told me about our new employee when you were hired. He’s a fan of yours, you know?"

  He was speechless, not knowing whether to be happy or worried; these days, 99% of his former fans and admirers had nothing but trash to talk about him.

  "Are you planning to stay with us?" she asked.

  "Just until I save up some cash. I want to start an esports organization."

  "That’s expensive. I manage the finances for a few ventures like that at our firm." She slowed the car and looked at him. "Shouldn't you be rich?"

  Samara turned her eyes back to the road.

  "I lost a lawsuit," Daniel said, exhaling his frustrations. "Had to pay a fortune to that... son of a bitch."

  In the distance, he spotted the luxury complex and asked her to pull over in front of it.

  "I can give you a hand if you need financial help in the future. I know some good financing options that could help with this new venture."

  The car stopped in front of the grand entrance of the gated community. Daniel took a deep breath and thanked her sincerely. "Thanks for the ride. I’d... actually love to talk to you about those opportunities later. Maybe around the... end of this year or start of the next?"

  "Sure," she said. "But you’ll have to remind me."

  "I've got it covered," he said, stepping out of the car. "And thanks again."

  He closed the door and started walking toward the entrance of the luxury complex. Halfway there, Samara yelled, "Wait! You live in this complex? You said you lived in a simple one, you fraud!"

  Daniel walked back to her window.

  "Now do you understand why I needed a job after everything? I still have some pretty steep installments to pay. I even had to sell my car, and it wasn't exactly a fancy one to begin with."

  "Your situation is worse than I thought, but... at least you live in a gorgeous apartment."

  "And here you were thinking I went back to work just for kicks..."

  "Who knows? I have no idea what goes on in the head of a pro gamer. But I have to go. My husband will be furious if I make us late for dinner with his parents. Daniel, have a good night and... take care."

  She waved goodbye, gunned the engine, and swerved into the other lane, cutting off a van whose driver retaliated with honks and curses. Daniel rubbed the back of his neck, grateful to have a boss as cool—and unhinged—as Samara.

  ***

  After a long and tiring workday, Daniel logged into New Avalon Online around eight in the evening.

  Days had passed since the raid on the Wolf’s Lair Fortress. Since Ragnar had held onto all the iron they obtained, Niki and Artic had been pestering him with messages demanding their share of the loot.

  To settle the matter, they agreed to meet in Salem, at the magic shop owned by the vampire, Sinistro.

  The druid was the first to arrive. The shop owner greeted him with a satisfied look.

  "Would you believe me if I said I'm already out of sunscreen?" Sinistro said, crossing his arms.

  "Liar!" Ragnar was stupefied. "It hasn't even been two days since I delivered the last batch."

  "It’s true, it’s true. Did you manage to produce more, by chance? Is that why you came to my shop?"

  Ragnar shook his head. "I’m here to meet my friends."

  "The characters from last time?"

  The druid nodded.

  "Excellent. I’ll prepare some tea for you all."

  The vampire spoke and hurried into the kitchen at the back of the store.

  Ragnar studied the shop, looking for any item that might help him, but everything there was restricted to adventurers level 25 and up.

  Somewhat disappointed, he walked to the corner of the shop where the tables were located. The place was empty as usual, so he chose to sit at the head of the table, keeping his back to the wall about a meter away.

  High-pitched, repetitive clinking announced Sinistro's approach—the sound of saucers and cups rattling on the tray in one hand. In the other, he held a steaming pot exhaling the sweet scent of herbs.

  I need to learn that recipe, the druid thought.

  The vampire served the customer and went ahead, setting out saucers and cups for the future guests.

  "Sinistro," Ragnar called out. "Your tea is exceptional. What makes it so different from the others?"

  The vampire leaned back and laughed. "Nice try, but I won't be revealing my secrets today."

  "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," Ragnar lamented, raising his cup for the first sip.

  A figure entered the establishment and threw back his hood, revealing a short blond hair. He looked to the left, where most of the display cases were, then to the right, toward the seating area.

  The newcomer smiled; it was Skiff. He hurried over to sit to the right of his friend.

  Niki and Artic took a few minutes to arrive, and by the time they sat at the table, the tea the vampire had prepared had gone cold.

  But since Ragnar was now the establishment's greatest supplier, Sinistro promptly offered to brew more of the coveted beverage. Niki sat to the druid’s left, leaving Artic the chair opposite him.

  "We want our cut of the heist," the knight said the moment his butt hit the wood of the seat.

  "You’ll get your share, I promise," Ragnar reassured them. "But first, I’d like to know what you plan to do with all this iron."

  "I’d use it to level up my Blacksmithing profession," Artic said.

  "I’d forge a dagger for myself, and a sword and shield for this knight," Niki replied. "Then I’d sell the rest to buy a horse."

  Ragnar felt relieved knowing Artic would use the iron productively. Niki’s first sentence made sense—crafting gear was a great way to upgrade her arsenal and her friends'—but selling one of the game's most useful ores to buy a basic mount was madness.

  When he explained this to her, the girl lowered her eyes and muttered, "I just really wanted a horsey."

  "Don't worry," Ragnar said. "We can get our first mount as a quest reward."

  She looked up and glared at him with a murderous stare. "You better be right, or else..."

  Meanwhile, Skiff reclined in his chair, hand on his chin, just watching the conversation unfold.

  "At the end of the day, the iron is yours," Ragnar said. "So, use it however you see fit."

  He looked at the three of them and, all at once, sent a trade request to each. They accepted. Three trade windows opened side by side.

  Ragnar opened his inventory and divided the 5,000 units of iron: one stack of 2,000 and three stacks of 1,000.

  After checking the split, he moved a stack of 1,000 units into each trade window.

  Seeing the number that appeared in her window, Niki protested. "You’re keeping double?"

  "Niki, leave him be... It’s a fair split considering everything he did."

  Ragnar never imagined the knight’s words would fill him with gratitude.

  "Thanks, Artic," he finished, confirming the trade with his three companions. "Done. Now it’s up to each of you to decide what to do with all this material."

  The conversation flowed into casual topics about the virtual world. The relaxed atmosphere made them lose track of time. In the blink of an eye, it was almost midnight.

  As he said goodbye to his friends, Ragnar realized he no longer had a clear objective in mind.

  The iron had been stolen and distributed. All that remained was to come up with a method to reach Level 20 before the knight and the assassin.

  Little did he know that a shadow from the past was about to return to threaten New Avalon.