"Bao… calm down first," Ning said, raising both hands in a placating gesture.
"Don't tell me to calm the fuck down!" Bao snapped, his voice cracking with raw frustration. "First I get kidnapped by some random psycho—and now by my best friend and the owner of my favorite coffee shop?!"
His chest heaved.
"I don't understand anything anymore!"
"That's exactly what I'm trying to explain!" Ning shot back.
The force in his voice cut through the room.
Silence followed.
Only now did Bao properly take in his surroundings.
The room was small.
Wooden planks lined both the walls and the floor, warm tones replacing the sterile white of his prison. The design felt… familiar.
Too familiar.
His eyes widened.
"Wait…" he muttered. "Are we at the café?"
It felt like the ground beneath him shifted.
Like everything he thought he knew was collapsing.
"Yes," the owner answered calmly.
Bao let out a hollow laugh.
"Of course we are…"
"Don't worry," Ning said more quietly now. "I'll explain everything. Let me untie you first."
He reached for a knife lying on a nearby table and stepped closer.
Bao frowned.
"Then why the hell was I tied up in the first place?"
Ning didn't hesitate.
"Because we knew you'd try to run. Or do something reckless before hearing us out."
Bao clicked his tongue.
Annoying.
But… not wrong.
Before he could argue, Ning moved behind him. The blade flashed briefly—
—and the ropes fell away.
Bao rolled his shoulders, wincing slightly. Red marks wrapped around his wrists—evidence that he'd been restrained for quite some time, even while unconscious.
Then—
A cup was pressed into his hands.
Warm.
Familiar.
The smell alone hit him before the taste did.
Coffee.
His coffee.
Some of the tension drained from his body almost instantly.
"…Fine," Bao muttered after a sip. "Then start talking."
He looked up, eyes narrowing slightly.
"How does this make any sense? My employer… the owner of my favorite café… you… the cosplay queen… and whoever that guy is."
He jerked his chin toward the unfamiliar figure in the corner.
"Explain it."
Ning exhaled slowly.
"First of all—you do know him," he said, nodding toward the man.
Bao frowned, studying the figure more closely.
"He's just… good at his job. Staying unnoticed."
A pause.
"Think back. You met him during one of your earlier adventures."
Bao's eyes narrowed further.
"…Nathan?"
The man gave a small nod.
"My real name is Xun though."
Bao blinked.
Then blinked again.
"You… were a player too?" he asked, disbelief creeping into his voice.
Xun simply nodded.
"Anyway," Ning continued, drawing Bao's attention back. "None of this is a coincidence. They've been watching you."
"They?" Bao echoed.
Ning gestured behind him.
"The three of them."
Aika.
The café owner.
Xun.
"They found out about my father's plans… and wanted to stop him."
Bao's grip on the cup tightened.
"Your father?" he repeated slowly. "The one who's never around?"
A pause.
"…He's the one who kidnapped me?"
Ning's jaw tightened.
"To my shame… yes."
The words hung heavy in the air.
"For his goals," Ning continued quietly, "he became more and more extreme."
He pulled a chair over and sat down across from Bao.
"At first, he used me to convince you to return to the game. He needed the best player."
Bao's eyes darkened.
"And when I refused to keep helping him manipulate you…" Ning continued, "he removed me from the equation."
A bitter smile flickered across his face.
"And decided to deal with you directly."
Bao leaned back slightly, staring at him.
"…Why?" he asked.
A simple question.
But it carried everything.
"Why go this far… for a game?"
Silence.
No one answered.
Not immediately.
Glances were exchanged.
Unspoken tension filled the room.
Something heavy.
Something final.
Ning looked back at Bao.
His expression had changed.
More serious.
More… certain.
"I hope you're ready to hear this."
Bao scoffed, though it lacked its earlier bite.
"Just say it," he muttered. "I've been through rehab, bullying, and betrayal. I'm not that easy to shock."
Another pause.
Then—
Ning spoke.
Slowly.
Clearly.
"The game…" he said.
"Nelenia…"
His eyes locked onto Bao's.
"…is real."