I kept buying gear and challenging her for an entire month.
Until one day…
[You have lost.]
L1l1-Play:"Time to pay up, loser-supplier."
— Here you go.
[Duel conditions have been met.]
— That's it. I give up…
L1l1-Play:"Seriously? You're quitting now? Then… who's gonna keep feeding me all this great gear?"
— Find another idiot. I'm tired of losing.
L1l1-Play:"Come on, you're fun… Believe me, there's no one better at losing than you. I mean it."
With a mix of indignation and sarcasm, I replied:
— Wow, such kind and comforting words. Really warms my heart.
L1l1-Play:"I know you're being sarcastic, but honestly, I've enjoyed crushing you in every duel… Let me know when you're up for another, okay?"
— There won't be a next time… I quit. I'm just not meant to be a gamer.
L1l1-Play:"Wait… are you throwing in the towel? Are you saying… you don't want to be a gamer anymore?"
I fell silent. That question hit me hard. It was the thousandth time I'd seriously thought about quitting gaming. Did I really want this?
I liked gaming. It brought back good memories. But I felt like I just wasn't born for it.
No matter how much I obsessed over it, it was something I could never truly reach…
They say practice makes perfect. But I had played for over 18 years, putting in three hours a day across countless games, and still… nothing. The truth was, I sucked. I was just plain bad.
With frustration welling up inside me, I muttered:
— Gamer, my ass. Even a baby plays better than me.
L1l1-Play:"Oh? Is that what you think?"
— I know it.
L1l1-Play:"Alright then… tomorrow. Foster Cybercafé. 1 PM. Don't be late. I wanna show you something."
— Wait… what!?
[Call has ended.]
— Why the hell is she inviting me out all of a sudden? It's not like she likes me… right? No, no, that's impossible. She probably just wants to convince me to keep giving her my gear… Yeah, that must be it.
(Maybe I should tell her who I really am…? No. Better not.)
That thought worried me. She was a famous singer, after all. But she did seem trustworthy.
The next day…
I dressed as casually as possible and took my luxury Mercedes-Benz—the one I bought last year. I drove to Foster Cybercafé, parked near the entrance, and spotted a stunning woman standing outside.
I recognized her instantly.
It was obvious she was waiting for me, so I walked up to her.
And that was the first time I saw her in person.
A fair-skinned girl of good height. She wore a summer hat, but I could still see her beautiful, loose, light brown hair… Her gorgeous brown eyes, hidden behind stylish glasses.
(She had an amazing figure, curvy in all the right ways.) And despite being a gamer, she was in great shape. (Most gamers I knew were either too skinny or overweight—no one was this fit.)
She wore a floral summer dress that accentuated her stunning legs and… well, her other assets.
Lilian's POV
I sat at a table outside the café, waiting for that idiot.
It had been ten minutes past the agreed time.
(Is he seriously not coming? No way. There's no way he'd ignore me—I'm LILIAN RHYMES. I've been asked out by countless guys… There's just NO WAY this loser would stand me up.)
Growing irritated, I stood up.
Just then, a sleek sports Mercedes-Benz pulled up and parked nearby.
My eyes instinctively locked onto the luxury car… and then, the driver stepped out.
A stunning man with blonde hair, fair skin, and striking blue eyes.
He wore a white T-shirt, a black leather jacket, well-fitted blue jeans, and crisp white sneakers. (I don't know why he was rocking that 90s retro style, but damn, it looked good on him.)
That handsome man walked straight toward me.
And then he spoke.
— You're Lilian, right?
— A-and you… who are you?
— Ah, of course, you don't recognize me. Alright, let me introduce myself. Hi, I'm Erling. The guy behind the mask.
— You're Erling!? Why the hell do you wear a mask if you look like that? (Shit—I didn't think that, I SAID it.)
— It's because of my family's public image. What would people think if the world's worst gamer turned out to be the third son of a business tycoon?
— …Okay, now the mask makes sense. But did you really have to keep it a secret from me? I mean, look at you—you don't even look like a loser.
— We've only known each other for a month. What, you think I was just gonna tell you my life story? Besides, who said all losers have to be ugly?
— Good point. But, I mean, you knew my face and my name, right?
— Lilian Rhymes counts as a real name?
His response… irritated me.
This man was gorgeous. But his personality? Absolute trash.
Still… I had to admit, there was something about him. He didn't sugarcoat anything. And I liked that.
I extended my hand.
— Alright, alright… Nice to meet you. My real name is Liliana Hillman.
He shook my hand. And I noticed… his hand trembled slightly as he said:
— Liliana, pleasure to meet you. My real name is Brian Dreifus.
— YOU'RE A DREIFUS!? You're the son of the Dreifus Group's CEO!? Holy shit, that explains where all your money was coming from. (Oh no—I didn't hold back my surprise… does he think I'm some gold digger?)
— That's exactly why I keep my identity hidden.
— But… how have I never heard of you before? (Phew, he doesn't seem to care. Thank God, he's just a simple-minded idiot.)
— The Dreifus family has a tradition of keeping their children hidden until they turn 25.
— …And why is that? (He's cute. Dumb, but cute.)
— At first, it was to avoid kidnapping or assassination attempts. Later, it became a way to ensure we grew up without people sucking up to us for money. It lets us find real friends. And, well… a future wife.
— A wife, huh…? (Do I have a chance? Or was he just speaking casually…?)
— That tradition started with my great-great-grandfather. During World War I, the Dreifus family was hunted by the Germans for refusing to finance their war efforts. Our business rivals used the opportunity to eliminate us. My great-great-grandfather, Stephens Dreifus, was the only survivor. He fled to America with our family fortune and created this system to prevent any future Dreifus from being wiped out.
— …Wow, what a history lesson. But come on, that's not necessary anymore, right? We're in 2028. (I didn't ask for a damn history lecture, but hey, at least he's smart.)
— The Dreifus family has nearly been wiped out multiple times throughout history. Keeping this tradition isn't as ridiculous as it sounds. But enough about my family. Why did you call me here?
— W-well… it's because you said you were quitting gaming.
— And how is that your problem?
— Hey, don't get defensive with me! (Okay, I take it back. He's not cute. He's an asshole.)
His face remained expressionless as he nodded and said:
— Yeah, yeah. Sure.
(His indifference pissed me off. But I ignored it. Why the hell was he so insensitive?)
I sighed and said:
— Let's just go inside, alright?
— Sure. Whatever.
— What a mood. (If I hadn't invited him… and if he wasn't this hot, I swear I'd have ditched him already.)
…But for some reason, I couldn't stop myself from smiling a little.
Something about him… about his attitude…
It was starting to intrigue me.