Rimelion: The Exploiter

While I stared blankly at the message about my debt, the redhead grinned with smug satisfaction. "You better watch out," she said, her voice dripping with mockery. Then, with a wave of her hand, she yanked me out of the void and sent me hurtling back to the ship.

No explanation. No apology. Just gone.

I knew exactly what had happened—but damn it; I wanted her to admit it before I strangled her.

The ship was cruising along as if I'd never left. Leaning against the railing, I stared at the river below, its steady flow doing little to calm the storm in my chest. That woman—undoubtedly Damon's boss—clearly had it out for me. Was it because I exploited the game? Come on, anyone could do it!

With a sharp kick to the wooden plank beneath the railing, I tried to shake the frustration. "That! She's..." My words caught in my throat as I gritted my teeth, my fists balling up instinctively. No swearing. Not now.

Her interest in me meant one thing: I had to tread carefully. They'd flagged me for sure. It didn't matter, though. My goals had already shifted.

First, with the help of Duke's soldiers, I'd support Lisa in her fight against Dmitry. Afterward, I'd ask Katherine to join me in exploring the Forgotten City. That preparation would set me up perfectly for the main quest Duke had handed me: Irwen's declaration of war.

"Let's do it!" I declared, a grin spreading across my face. Kicking the plank again, I relished the satisfying thud it made beneath my high heel.

The monotonous sailing dragged on for two more hours until Village Number Seventeen appeared on the horizon. Leaning on the railings, I watched the bustling activity below as the captain's booming voice echoed across the deck.

As the ship approached the port, it suddenly swayed, throwing me off balance. I stumbled, reaching desperately for the nearest yard, but my hand missed by inches, and I landed hard on the deck.

"Son of—gimme that!" the captain barked, shoving his subordinate aside and seizing the helm. With a powerful twist, he corrected the ship's course. "Quickly, lass!" he shouted in my direction.

Not wanting to delay them any longer, I scrambled to my feet, dashed to the side, and leapt onto the dock. Waving back at the ship, I expected some acknowledgment, but they didn't even glance my way as they sailed off without stopping. Well, that's anticlimactic.

No matter. Clutching the document from the Duke, I straightened my posture and strode toward the center of the village, imagining a heroic sunset framing my silhouette. Wait... what? It's already sunset? A quick glance at the sky confirmed it—four hours had passed.

Like every other elven village, this one looked identical to the rest. Magical lamps were already glowing faintly, their light casting a warm shimmer over the uniform rows of buildings. Lazy developers—or lazy elves? Either way, it seemed someone had copied and pasted the entire village design.

Even the names were uninspired. Village Number Seventeen, seriously? Then again, it made sense. The imperial officials loved to flaunt their control by forcing everyone to conform to the same rigid, "proper imperial" standards. Uniform villages, uniform names, uniform lives.

Well, except for the building in the center of the village. Every other structure was one or two stories high at most, but the guildhall towered above them, casting a shadow even over the two-story shop beside it.

Looking around, I noticed some players gawking at the massive building, their faces a mix of amazement and surprise. Hah, wait until you see the Tower of Eternity for the first time. Clutching the document tighter, I pressed forward. The steady stream of players heading inside made it easy to blend in, so I let the flow carry me.