"What happened?" one God muttered. "Did the Golem just... explode?" "Probably a bug," another shrugged. "Moving on."
But down in the plaza, the blinding light faded.
Liam stood in the centre of the wreckage, his skin pulsing with a faint, internal orange glow. He felt like he had swallowed a star. Beside him, Ellie stared in a daze, her face a permanent shade of crimson, her pink tail twitching.
Behind them, in the shadows of the Divine Realm, one notification remained active. One Goddess didn't have her memory wiped.
[Goddess Hestia is staring at you with wide, sparkling eyes.]
[Goddess Hestia has saved a 'Screen Capture' of the last 60 seconds.]
[Goddess Hestia: "I... I will never forget that meal."]
Liam looked at his hands, then at his shredded leather straps. He let out a long, steaming breath.
"Well," Liam rumbled, his voice deeper than ever. "The soup was better, but this has a nice kick."
He turned to the shivering, half-naked PKers.
"The Golem is dead. Get to work. I need those obsidian shards for a new stove."
The "Permanent Appearance Sync" didn't just change Liam's face; it transformed the entire mood of the plaza around him. Attention fixed on Liam as the three-foot-tall wolf-toddler was replaced by the lean, silver-haired silhouette of the university's most infuriating overachiever. The world seemed to react to his presence.
Liam Yoo stood in the centre of the smouldering crater, his wolf ears twitching in the sudden silence. He didn't look like a hero. He looked like a man who had just realised his kitchen was on fire and was more worried about the sauce than the curtains.
Ellie, standing beside Liam, stared at him in shock. Her face was a permanent shade of crimson, her pink cat tail lashing behind her, betraying her state of disbelief and agitation.
"You," she choked out, her finger trembling as she pointed at his chest. "Library... exams... LIAM YOO?"
Liam didn't look at her. His eyes were locked on the cooling remains of the Fire Golem. He reached into the sizzling obsidian wreckage, his hand gloved in nothing but grit, and pulled out a jagged, glowing shard of the Golem's inner mantle. It wasn't meat—it was a literal piece of volcanic rock, pulsating with a heat that made the air distort.
[Item Acquired: Golem's Heart-Shard (Raw)]
A piece of concentrated geological spite. Edible? Technically. Recommended? No.
The player killers who had survived the blast watched from the shadows, their gear stripped and their pride shattered.
"Is he... is he going to touch that?" one whispered. "That thing is 1,200 degrees."
Liam didn't just touch it. He looked at the rock, looked at his own hunger bar, and took a massive, crunching bite.
Crr-ack.
The sound of teeth meeting volcanic stone echoed in the quiet plaza.
"I think he's lost the plot," a PKer muttered, horrified. "He's eating the boss. He's actually eating a rock."
Liam chewed slowly, his expression shifting from focus to a strange, analytical calm. "Tastes like sulphur and burnt iron," he rumbled, his new voice a deep, resonant baritone that made Ellie jump. "But the texture... It's like a very, very aggressive jawbreaker."
He swallowed. A pulse of orange light rippled through his skin, but the notification wasn't what the onlookers expected.
[Warning: You have consumed Raw Golem Core.]
[Status: Heartburn (Severe). Internal Temperature Rising.]
[Note: You are not fire-resistant. You are just very, very
warm.]
"Man," Liam muttered, wiping a stray spark from his lip. "That's going to be a nightmare to digest. But if I can sear the toad meat on this heat..."
He reached back into the wreckage and pulled out his actual loot. Two heavy, scorched gauntlets that hummed with a low, protective energy.
[Item Acquired: Vulcan's Oven-Mitts (Rare Grade Gauntlets)]
Forged from the Golem's outer hide.Effect: +40 Defence. Heat Suppression: Allows the wearer to handle objects up to 2,000°C without damage. "Perfect for the battlefield. Better for taking cookies out of the sun."
Liam pulled them on. They fit perfectly, the heavy metal plates interlocking with a satisfying clack. He looked at the shivering PKers.
"The Golem is dead," Liam said. "Get to work. I need those obsidian shards for a new stove. If I find one shard missing, I'm seasoning my next meal with your armour."
The PKers didn't argue. They scrambled into the wreckage like terrified squirrels.
The plaza was still settling from the "Sync," but for Liam, the real battle wasn't against Golems—it was against the housing market.
In the real world, Liam and Elizabeth were academic rivals, the kind who fought over decimal points in GPA rankings. Here, there were two people standing in the middle of a medieval street, one with silver hair and wolf ears, the other with a pink cat tail lashing in a state of perpetual agitation.
We need a roof," Liam said, his voice dropping into something low and steady, the kind that carried without trying. "And I need a kitchen. If I have to cook one more toad over a campfire, I'm wiping this server from existence."
Ellie, still reeling from the fact that the "toddler" she'd been mothering was actually the guy who sat two rows behind her in Economics, just nodded dumbly. "Right. House. Not a tent. A house."
The plaza was still settling from the "Sync," but for Liam, the real battle wasn't against Golems; it was against the housing market.
The village's only letting agency was a cramped, timber-framed building near the fountain. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of old parchment lavender.
Behind the counter sat a woman who could only be described as a force of nature. She was a Minotaur-kin, but leaned heavily into the "cow" side of the spectrum. She was tall, with soft brown patches on her skin, small horns peeking through a mop of blonde hair, and a bust that was currently waging a losing war against the buttons of her professional vest.
She looked up as the bell chimed, and her eyes landed on Liam.
Liam didn't just walk in; he loomed. The "Permanent Sync" had given him the height and presence of a man who owned the room, and the residual "Hunger" from his talent gave his gaze a sharp, predatory intensity.
The agent's jaw dropped. A deep, rosy flush spread across her cheeks, reaching all the way to the tips of her ears. She dropped her quill, her hands fluttering to her chest as she let out a soft, flustered "Moo?"
"We're looking for a rental," Liam said, leaning one hand on the counter. He gave a low, quiet chuckle, not at her, but at the absurdity of the "Heartburn" debuff still sizzling in his chest.
The agent practically melted. She began fanning herself with a stack of leases. "O-oh! A rental! For a... for a big, strong Vanguard like you? Of course! Let me... let me check my, uh, milk, I mean, my maps!"
Ellie stood behind Liam, tense, her pink cat tail twitching sharply. Her eyes flicked from the agent's chest, to her own, to the back of Liam's head, her thoughts running wild.
I knew him first, Ellie thought, her teeth grinding so tight they squeaked. I've been his party leader for hours. Why is she mooing at him? And my… my cat-kin stats aren't even bad. I'm aerodynamic. That cow woman is basically a walking milk bar.
"Everything is gone," the agent squeaked, her voice an octave higher as Liam tilted his head. "The event... the new adventurers... they took the villas. They took the lofts. There is... There is literally only one place left."
She pulled out a key, her hands shaking as she accidentally brushed Liam's fingers. She let out a soft gasp and nearly fainted.
"It's a townhouse. One bedroom," she stammered. "Very private. Very... cozy."
"One bedroom?" Ellie snapped, her cat-kin instincts flaring. "We need two! We're students! This is a survival zone, not a honeymoon!"
Liam took the key, his expression unreadable. "Does it have a stone-fire stove?"
"The best in the district," the agent breathed, looking at him like he was the last tuft of grass in a drought.
"We'll take it," Liam said.
They pushed through the heavy oak door of the townhouse. The interior was cozy—too cozy. The kitchen was a masterpiece of basalt and copper, but the rest of the room was dominated by a single, massive bed draped in enchanted silk.
"One bed," Ellie whispered, her ears pinning back. "Liam, there is one. Bed."
"I noticed," Liam rumbled, already heading for the hearth. "You take the left side. I'll be busy for most of the night anyway."
"Busy doing what? We're stuck in a digital prison, Liam! Martial law has basically been declared by the system! people are literally dying!"
Liam didn't answer. Instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out the items Hestia had sent him. He placed the three loaves of bread on the counter and set the single candle in a bronze holder. He lit it, the flame burning with a strange, comforting gold hue.
Then, to Ellie's absolute shock, the stoic, logical Liam Yoo closed his eyes and folded his hands.
"Dear Santa—I mean, Hestia," Liam muttered, his voice low and deadpan. "Thanks for the food, I think. Bread is yummy. Don't let the house burn down while I'm searing this monster meat. Amen."
Ellie stared at him, her jaw dropping. "Did you just... pray to a piece of code? And did you call her Santa?"
Liam opened one eye. "We're stuck here, Ellie. If the game says she's a Goddess, and she sends me snacks, I'm playing by the rules. It's called 'cultural immersion.' Besides, if I'm going to live here, I'm going to do it properly."