After spending an uneventful night, the next day, Sophia led Selim, now dressed in an elegant new gown—out of the manor.
With Selim’s guidance, Sophia and she arrived at the entrance of a tavern.
“Are you sure the person you’re looking for is here?” Sophia frowned at the tavern’s old sign.
A wave of murky air and raucous noise washed over them. Sophia hadn’t expected Selim’s target to be hiding in such a den of riffraff.
“That’s right.” Selim explained to Sophia, “Isn’t it true that real talent always hides in places like this?”
“Did you read that in those storybooks again?” Sophia clearly didn’t agree with Selim’s outlook.
After all, a true extraordinary with resolve and willpower wouldn’t let themselves fall into such an environment.
“Trust me. Didn’t we agree to ask less about ‘why’? I have my reasons.” Selim offered Sophia a simple reassurance.
Selim certainly wasn’t here to indulge herself, but to wait for a “High Goth.” This was an important NPC related to Sophia’s exclusive equipment.
They needed to help this fallen Moonlight Level extraordinary find out the truth behind his wife’s disappearance—or perhaps, help him collect her remains—in order to obtain his family’s treasured heirloom.
After being here for so long, Selim had long realized that this world was not a rigid game world that followed game rules.
There weren’t actually NPCs with exclamation points waiting for you at the Firefly Tier, nor would they stand there with an exclamation point even after you reached the Holy Radiance Rank.
Miss it, and it’s gone—so you had to act early for anything.
It was a pity the treasure suited for Sophia wasn’t carried by the other party; otherwise, Selim would have considered whether just killing him for the drop would be even more efficient.
“Fine, do as you like.” Sophia relented and pushed Selim’s wheelchair into the tavern.
The pair’s striking looks instantly drew every eye. The noisy tavern quieted at once, with even a few cheeky whistles sounding.
It wasn’t until Sophia shot a fierce glare back that the whispering and clinking of glasses resumed, the tavern returning to its lively chaos.
Sophia pushed Selim’s wheelchair to an empty table and asked, “Is the person you’re looking for here now?”
Selim looked around, shook her head, and replied, “I didn’t find him.”
“So are we just going to sit here and wait?” Sophia was a little disgusted by the sneaky glances from all around.
“Yes, let’s wait and see.” Selim, however, appeared very friendly and even gave the people around them a sweet smile.
It wasn’t that Selim enjoyed the filthy, lustful stares of others. Quite the opposite—she was so disgusted inside it made her nauseous.
But with just this simple act, she could stir up Sophia’s protective instincts.
Sure enough, Sophia couldn’t hold back in the end. She simply shifted her own seat to block Selim from the prying eyes with questionable motives.
“Since we’re waiting anyway, now that we’re here, aren’t you going to buy me a drink?” Selim took the chance, tugging at Sophia’s sleeve and making more demands.
Just buying a drink for her companion—Sophia didn’t think it was an unreasonable request.
Besides, this was just a very humble tavern. How much could it possibly cost?
Selim wasn’t an adult, and Sophia wasn’t about to actually buy her a strong liquor.
Wouldn’t a glass of milk do?
Cheap but suitable.
“All right, stay here and behave.” Sophia swept her gaze around once more, giving everyone a mild warning, then stood and walked toward the bar.
While Sophia was at the bar making her order with the bartender, a few thugs seized the chance to spike a drink, then, fueled by alcohol, shoved each other as they stood up.
Their goal was clear: the alone Selim.
One of the men set a drink before Selim, burped, and said, “Hey, pretty, first time here? Want to try this? Big brother here can show you something fun…”
He kept talking as he sat himself down in Sophia’s recently vacated seat, his filthy intentions written all over his face.
Selim sneered inwardly—she had no intention of acknowledging such scum.
If there weren’t any witnesses right now, the “kind” Selim would’ve shown the guy just what it meant to be an Order of the Paradox player, with the highest possible moral standards.
But seeing Sophia in the distance, caught up in some dispute with the bartender, Selim’s eyes flickered and a plan formed in her mind.
She trembled all over, pretending to be frightened, and reached with shaking hands for the glass, acting as if she was about to drink.
Seeing this, the man became even more smug, showed off to his companions, and then reached out to put his arm around Selim’s shoulders.
Just as he was about to succeed, a powerful hand clamped down on his wrist like iron pincers, immobilizing him.
It was Sophia, her face stormy.
In one hand she held a glass of creamy white milk, in the other she gripped the man’s wrist.
“Don’t tell me this is the kind of person you’ve been waiting for.”
Sophia was furious.
First, she had just warned everyone and reminded Selim, yet this still happened, which was infuriating.
Second, she’d paid ten times the normal price for the milk in her hand, simply because the place selling it was a tavern.
After receiving an expensive Gem from Selim as a gift, Sophia hadn’t had the nerve to return empty-handed.
So she’d been forced to be a sucker, paying the outrageous price—even though, in the end, it wasn’t an unbearable amount.
But for Sophia, who loved money almost as much as her life, it was no less infuriating than that time, as a Demon Hunter, when she’d been cheated out of a reward by a Treasurer after saving someone.
Legally, that rescue had ended up costing her money.
Of course, on a certain dark, windy night, she’d shown that Treasurer just why the flowers were so red.
Feeling that humiliation again reignited Sophia’s anger.
“You’re back?” Selim quickly set down the glass and spoke in a hopeful tone, “I knew you’d come save me, my lady Knight.”
“Wouldn’t you know how to refuse?” Sophia retorted.
“Sorry, I was scared alone…” Selim lowered her head and spoke softly, “The books say to be grateful for gifts from others…”
“That’s not a gift!” Sophia dumped the drink in front of Selim onto the floor.
“What’s it to you, you stupid woman?” The man struggled with all his might but couldn’t escape Sophia’s grasp and cursed at her in frustration.
Sophia’s brows furrowed even more.
She decided to teach this man a lesson—first to vent her anger, second to teach Selim the “common sense” for dealing with such people.
“Have your books taught you how to deal with this sort of person?” Sophia asked Selim again.
Seeing Sophia so angry, Selim wasn’t sure why, but she knew what the right answer was.
After a moment’s thought, Selim replied innocently, “Um… smash his head on the table, break his legs, and throw him into the street?”
“What?” The man was dumbfounded to hear Selim, who always seemed like a gentle little lamb, say something like that.
Hearing this, Sophia’s frown relaxed a bit.
“This time, your book got it right.”
With a scream, the would-be poisoner was tossed out into the street.
His drinking buddies had already run for their lives.
The commotion drew the attention of a burly tavern security guard.
A wave of Firefly Tier extraordinary power radiated from him, and it was clear he’d been at this level for years.
“Who’s—”
He turned on his heel and left, for with his first step inside, he’d sensed the Moonlight Level aura from Sophia.
How much did this job pay a month? Risking his life? No way!
If he’d known she was Moonlight Level, he wouldn’t have shown up at all. She could beat up anyone she liked.
Sophia was quite pleased with the guard’s discernment—her displeasure vanished.
Though there’d been a small incident, it didn’t stop the crowd from seeking entertainment, and the tavern’s hubbub soon returned to normal.
“Here, drink this outrageously expensive milk.” Even as Sophia was breaking both the man’s legs with her left foot, not a drop spilled from the glass in her right hand as she handed it to Selim, perfectly intact.
“Mm, delicious, thank you.” Selim was quite pleased with how things had played out.
First, she’d managed to act pitiful again and have Sophia stand up for her, cultivating Sophia’s habit of pampering her.
Second, she’d deepened her public persona as a frail but spoiled young lady, making it easier to escape the attention of her fiancé, Charles Philip, and their enemies, so she could stir up trouble in secret.
“Finished? If so, let’s go. I’m not buying a second glass of milk at ten times the price.” Sophia had no intention of paying for another glass and suggested Selim leave this den of filth.
“No, the person I’m waiting for is already here.” Selim shook her head and looked toward a corner of the bar.
While the earlier commotion had been unfolding, the person she sought had just arrived and witnessed everything.
It was a High Goth. Though if Selim were honest, aside from a pair of pointed elf ears and some height, he was nothing like the beautiful elves of fantasy tales.
More like a degraded version of an elf, though the arrogance and haughtiness were certainly inherited.
Selim strongly suspected this was because the game’s modeler was too lazy to create a handsome race.
Still, these traits made it easy for Selim to pick out her target.
She rolled her wheelchair over and spoke, “A High Goth?”
The other’s response was cold. He said blandly, “Scram.”
Then he began drinking.
“Why? Do you think I’m worthless to you?”
He set down his glass.
“Your malice is barely hidden. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“And…” He glanced at Selim’s meager chest and continued, “I don’t date children.”
Selim kept a polite smile on her face, but inside, she was grinding her teeth in hatred.
“I’ll have Sophia bite you later!”