Rimelion: The Exploiter

"Charlie, I'm in trouble," Lucas said, his voice frantic. "Can you come?"

"Hi to you too, Lucas," I replied with a sigh, unable to resist a sarcastic edge. "What happened this time?"

Lucas flashed a nervous smile—the same one he always had when he got caught by a teacher or was seconds away from detention. "Charlie... Can you come to Riker's Tower?"

Riker's Tower? My eyebrows shot up. It was on my bucket list, sure, but only after earning some notoriety in the game. The tower was legendary—a labyrinth of high-stakes challenges, not to mention the politics surrounding Riker himself.

I still needed him to push for my request to add that waterfall near the Goolem Dungeon to his list of wonders.

I don't even remember why I want that.

Going there now felt hasty, and the lower floors alone were infamous for... gatekeeping. Maybe Lucas had someone on the inside? My frown deepened as I considered the implications.

Seeing my hesitation, Lucas quickly added, "Don't worry, nothing bad happened. Someone just... wants to meet you."

My eyes narrowed. "Does this someone have a name? And are they, by any chance, holding you hostage?"

Lucas's eyes widened, and he shook his head so fervently it was almost comical. "What? No, Charlie! They just really want to meet you. If you show up—even for a minute—it'll help me a lot. I'm onto something."

I studied his face, searching for cracks in his sincerity. None.

His nervous energy was enough to set off alarms, but there was something genuine in his desperation. I sighed, feeling the weight of whatever situation he'd landed in. "Lucas, just tell me..."

I paused, shaking my head. "Never mind. I'll be there."

Before he could respond, I ended the call and tossed my poor phone into my handbag with more force than necessary.

"One for the 'why?'" Patrick's voice got me out of my thoughts. He slid a whiskey toward me, his warm smile full of curiosity. "Sounds complicated."

"You know me too well, Patrick," I replied with a small smile, lifting the glass. The amber liquid swirled as I tilted it back, savoring the familiar burn. "But I've changed," I added, setting the empty glass down with a soft clink.

Patrick chuckled, leaning on the counter. "If you say so, lassie."

Riker built his tower in the most expensive part of the city, far from my flat and farther still from my comfort zone. The skyscraper was for everyone living here a symbol of his wealth and ambition.

Naturally, too far for me to walk.

One glance at my bank account confirmed what I already knew: enough funds for plenty of visits to Patrick's and a few Tüber rides. Not exactly a fortune, but enough to scrape by for now.

Thanks to that stupid debt, I really should start earning more.

The thought lingered, heavy and unpleasant. Too bad Lisa died; she would buy something for sure. Tomorrow.

With a sigh, I pulled out my phone and booked a ride. The driver had only 4.1 stars, but was local and that should be plenty. "Three minutes," I muttered to Patrick, who was wiping down the counter. He didn't need any more details; he knew the drill. With a quick flick of my wrist, I sent the payment his way and began heading for the door.

I'd pushed it open, the crisp night air brushing against my face, when Patrick called out behind me. "Lassie... Be careful, 'kay?" His voice carried a note of concern that made me pause mid-step.