Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended [Part One]

CHAPTER 178: Turned Away, Led Astray

This time, however, instead of laughing with a carefree expression, a deep flushed stained Lumielle's cheeks as she surreptitiously glanced up at Daisuke beneath her eyelashes, completely flustered.

Why is it so much different? She pondered, her fear of the monsters entirely gone. Why do I feel so much more self-conscious now? What's changed?

"What's wrong?" Daisuke whispered, his tone considerate.

"I'm sorry that the Repel Incense hasn't been working as intended," she whispered back, her face a disaster she couldn't allow him to see.

"There's nothing to apologize for," he reassured with a small smile. "I think the Lich and Treant are just a few of the special exceptions since they technically don't need to breathe."

"...You make a convincing argument."

"Besides," Daisuke added. "Things could've turned out a heck of a lot worse based on everything you've told me about this crazy forest."

Lumielle blushed and nodded.

"The horses shouldn't be too far off now. Let's head back."

"Right."

***

The soft glow of morning light filtered through the misty streets of Lunarel, casting a golden hue over the city. A man pushed open the door to Kaelmont Apothecary, the soft chime of the bell breaking the stillness inside. His bandaged right eye twitched, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his brow despite the cool morning air.

At the front counter stood Lugene Kaelmont, her gray hair tied back neatly as she sorted through a basket of dried herbs. She looked up with a warm but cautious smile as the man entered, noting his restless energy.

"Good morning," she greeted, her voice light and welcoming.

"Morning," the man replied, his tone strained as he attempted a friendly demeanor. He wiped his damp hands on his tunic, his movements jittery. "I, uh... I was hoping you could help me. Been having these headaches since—" He gestured vaguely at his bandaged eye. "Since the injury. Thought maybe I could get the same medication you gave me last time. It worked wonders."

Lugene's brows knitted slightly, and she set down the herbs she was handling. "You've been in before, haven't you? I remember prescribing something to help manage the pain during the first few weeks of recovery."

He nodded eagerly. "Yes, exactly! And it really helped. But, uh..." He shifted on his feet, his gaze flicking toward the neatly labeled jars lining the shelves. "The pain's still bad. Keeps me up at night sometimes."

Lugene folded her hands on the counter, her expression firm but not unkind. "I understand, but that medication isn't meant for long-term use. It has... addictive properties if taken too frequently. You're healing well enough now that it's best to endure the discomfort. The pain will pass on its own."

The man's face darkened, and his fingers gripped the edge of the counter. "You don't understand," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "I need it."

Before Lugene could respond, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the back room. Rue Kaelmont appeared, his broad frame and weathered hands a testament to years of hard labor. His sharp eyes scanned the scene, immediately sensing the tension.

"Is there a problem, love?" Rue asked, his tone calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. He crossed his arms and leaned casually against the counter, though the look he gave the man was anything but relaxed.

The man's jaw clenched, and he clicked his tongue in frustration. With a final glare at Lugene, he stepped back. "No problem," he muttered, spinning on his heel and storming out of the shop.

Outside, the cool air did little to soothe his fraying nerves. His hands trembled, his vision blurred, and the pulsing ache in his head grew more unbearable by the second. He stumbled to a quiet corner of the street, clutching at his temple and muttering curses under his breath.

"Rough morning, friend?" a smooth voice called out from nearby.

The man snapped his head up, spotting a figure leaning casually against the side of a building. The stranger was dressed in a long, travel-worn coat, a satchel slung over one shoulder. His face was partially shadowed by the brim of his hat, but his smile was visible—a thin, calculated expression that somehow managed to seem both friendly and predatory.

"Who the hell are you?" the man growled, his voice shaky.

"Just a traveling merchant," the stranger replied, raising his hands in a gesture of harmlessness. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation in the apothecary. Headaches, was it? Nasty business."

The man's eyes narrowed. "What's it to you?"

The merchant stepped closer, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. "I supply medicinal herbs to shops like this one all across Lunarel. I know a thing or two about remedies." He reached into his satchel and produced a small vial filled with small shimmering chunks of translucent crystal. "This might be just what you need. It's similar to what you've been taking—soothes the pain, lets you rest. No need to suffer."

The man eyed the vial hungrily, his suspicion warring with his desperation. "How much?"

The merchant's smile widened. "For you, a special price. Let's say... thirty-five gold per ounce."

"Thirty-five?!" the man sputtered, but his hand was already reaching for his coin pouch.

"Trust me," the merchant said, placing the vial in his hand. "I know what it's like. I had an injury once—terrible pain that wouldn't let me sleep. This helped me, and I want to help you. You can either swallow, inhale, or smoke a small portion of it. But the latter is more effective—"

The man hesitated for only a moment before thrusting the coins into the merchant's hand. Mindlessly, he uncorked the vial and downed its contents in one gulp, the bitter substance burning its way down his throat. Relief didn't come immediately, but the promise of it was enough to soothe his frayed nerves for now.

The merchant tipped his hat with a knowing smile. "Take care of yourself, friend." Then, without another word, he melted back into the shadows, leaving the man clutching the empty vial.