WildHorizon Guild — Outside the Wall, 9:00 AM
Another day had passed.
After walking away from Melissa the day before, Dylan had failed to find any alternative solution to his predicament.
By order of the Guild Master, the hall had been locked down early, keeping all members contained inside, and the doors weren't reopened until 6:00 PM.
Dylan had spent the entirety of yesterday arguing with Connor, who kept offering to choke him into unconsciousness to force his body to disperse the stored energy. However, Dylan knew that wasn't going to be a viable long-term solution.
Today, Dylan sat alone at their usual table while Connor and Rose went off to fetch breakfast.
He felt utterly miserable: his head felt as though it were about to burst, his temper was frayed to a thread, and his skin looked even paler than before—yet his body remained brimming with restless energy.
He wanted to cry.
*THUD* *THUD* *THUD*
The sharp click of sandals came to a stop right behind Dylan's chair. A pair of hands—which Dylan recognized instantly—began to knead his tense shoulders. The gesture seemed to ease the pounding stress in his head ever so slightly.
"So?" Melissa's gentle voice purred directly into his ear.
It was an offer of help, but to Dylan, it represented something far heavier: he had lost to this world. He had naively believed he could bypass the culture and traditions of Vaelthar and live out a relatively normal life as a low-rank adventurer.
Evidently, he was wrong. His choice had boiled down to a simple ultimatum: yield to this world's customs to survive, or cling to his Earthly pride and break.
And he had no pride left to give.
Besides, what good was pride to a dead man?
Dylan lowered his head and offered a faint, resigned nod.
Melissa's hands slid forward, wrapping around Dylan's neck as she leaned down until her lips brushed the side of his ear.
"You're lucky today's my day off... Follow me," she whispered softly, her teeth lightly catching his earlobe.
WildHorizon Guild — Melissa's Private Quarters, 9:10 AM
*PLAP* *PLAP* *PLAP*
The rhythmic sound of bare skin meeting skin echoed throughout the room inside Melissa's private quarters.
Dylan and Melissa's clothing lay discarded in a messy heap on the floor. Melissa was stretched across her back on the mattress, her arms clinging tightly to Dylan's shoulders as her long legs wrapped firmly around his waist.
Dylan held her hips with a iron grip, driving himself deep inside her with powerful, unyielding thrusts.
"Oh, Ludmi!" Melissa gasped, pressing a barrage of eager kisses along Dylan's jaw and neck. "Don't stop... no one can come in here, it's just you and me!" she cried out, her teeth nipping softly at his skin as she held on for dear life.
Melissa's nails dug into Dylan's back, dragging down until her hands gripped his firm glutes to pull him closer.
She was enjoying this far more than any past encounter, and she knew it. It felt as though something inherent to Dylan was pulling at her instincts, demanding more—though she couldn't quite name what it was.
His face, his scent, his voice, his touch... or perhaps every single detail combined? She couldn't tell, but her Mytt blood refused to resist. Her instincts told her that this was right, that she had to claim it.
Dylan shifted his weight and turned Melissa onto her front. She offered zero resistance, allowing herself to be moved across the bed, presenting her broad, full rear to him.
Directly across from the bed stood a tall full-length mirror, capturing their reflection perfectly: Melissa pressed face-down into the mattress, and Dylan mounted over her from behind, driving into her with relentless force.
As Melissa looked into her own reflection, she caught sight of Dylan above her. Something about his wavy brown hair and light hazel eyes struck a subtle chord of familiarity, reminding her faintly of a certain high-ranking adventurer—though she dismissed the thought immediately; Dylan was a transmigrator, after all.
Pushing the thought aside, Melissa gasped as Dylan bit down sharply on the crook of her neck, followed by a hard, stinging smack across her rear.
*SMACK*
"That's it... punish it..." Melissa moaned softly, rolling her hips back against his member to meet every heavy stroke.
Seconds blurred into minutes, and minutes melted into hours. Until finally...
Dylan lay sound asleep in Melissa's arms, both of them still completely bare.
Melissa nestled closer against him, resting Dylan's head against her soft chest while her fingers idly twirled through his brown hair, gazing down at him with a gentle expression.
"You really did have a ridiculous amount of energy stored up... which is bizarre," Melissa whispered under her breath, speaking more to herself than to the sleeping youth.
She glanced over at the clock on her nightstand: 2:47 PM.
During her former days as an active adventurer, long before meeting Dylan, Melissa had bedded her fair share of men. She was intimately familiar with the mechanics of Excess Energy Storage, yet she had never witnessed a core reaction as intense as Dylan's—not even from someone like Lydia.
(His core is... incredible. How on earth does it allow him to compress and optimize that much energy?...) Melissa wondered internally. If Dylan hadn't paused to let her catch her breath multiple times throughout the hours, she wouldn't have been able to keep up. (Is it because I retired from adventuring that I couldn't match a Rank F rookie?... No, even without an active combat core, my baseline constitution is easily equal to a Rank C, or at least the peak of Rank D...)
Melissa looked down at Dylan again and gently shook his shoulder to see if he would stir, but he remained completely dead to the world.
"Those three days of insomniac torment really took a toll on you, huh?" Melissa teased with a fond smile. Her eyes drifted down to his lips. "...Well, I doubt he'll mind after everything we just did," she justified, her tongue tracing her lower lip.
*MWAH* *MWAH* *MWAH*
The soft sound of Melissa's passionate kisses filled the quiet room. Within minutes, Dylan's neck, shoulders, and chest were covered in dark, fresh hickeys, his lips swollen and red.
"Ludmi~ you taste so divine..." Melissa purred.
WildHorizon Guild — Grand Dining Hall, 7:00 PM
Following his grueling session with Melissa, Dylan expressed his heartfelt gratitude to her before practically sprinting toward the dining hall. He was absolutely starving.
Piling his tray high with whatever food was available, Dylan began inhaling his meal with frantic hunger. He felt immeasurably better—the excruciating headaches, brain fog, and irritability from sleep deprivation had vanished entirely while he slept.
"Hey! Look at that—my combat partner is back in peak condition!" Connor cheered, sliding into the bench across from Dylan. "So? How'd you pull it off? You vanished for ten straight hours and came back looking brand new!"
Rose drifted over with obvious curiosity as well, though she already had a very clear idea of how he had resolved his issue.
"Melissa helped me out..." Dylan answered between massive bites of food.
"Melissa?! As in, Melissa with the massive ass?! You lucky bastard!" Connor laughed heartily, clapping him on the shoulder. "Honestly, she'd be way too much woman for me to handle. How'd you manage?"
"No clue, but her 'treatment' worked, and that's all I care about," Dylan admitted frankly.
Following a long, satisfying dinner and plenty of banter, Dylan, Connor, and Rose stepped out of the guild hall to return to their designated sleeping quarters. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
The street.
Lying on his usual wooden bench, Dylan stared up at the dark, overcast sky. Today, he had learned a vital lesson: sheer willpower meant nothing when pitted against the fundamental laws of this world.
He had tried so hard to cling to his Earthly values and moral framework—desperately trying not to become just another degenerate transmigrator driven by dark fantasies and shallow vices. But what was he supposed to do when the very nature of Vaelthar's magic forced his hand?
Simple: adapt.
Those three agonizing days of insomnia were absolute proof. If he wanted to survive in this realm, conquer his fate, and avoid dying an early death like the vast majority of transmigrators before him, he had to integrate and live by Vaelthar's rules—not Earth's.
Because Vaelthar had already made it abundantly clear that neither extreme of transmigrator survived here.
On one end were the radical transmigrators who arrived demanding instant power, fame, and endless harems—and where were they now? All dead in ditches.
On the other end was him: trying to preserve his old world's sensibilities, adapting only by half-measures—and what did that get him? Three days of agonizing hell.
Only now did he truly understand: to survive, he had to become a true native of Vaelthar. He had to grow stronger, refine his combat capabilities alongside other adventurers, and prioritize his own survival above all else.
(Tomorrow, I'm asking Connor to train me properly in combat,) Dylan thought, a subtle smile touching his lips. This was his first real step forward.
He rolled over onto his side to sleep, only to find himself staring directly into Rose's wide, hyper-focused eyes peering up at him from the dirt floor—while something under her blanket was vigorously shaking up and down.
"Hey there..." Rose greeted him, her hand moving rapidly beneath the fabric.
"No, no, NOOO!" Dylan yelled, bolting upright and backing away from the edge of the bench.
Connor was instantly jolted awake by the commotion, taking in the scene and realizing what Rose was doing right beside his bed.
"AGAIN?!" Connor roared.
One by one, nearby adventurers woke up from the chaos. From that night onward, Rose would officially be known across the rookie sector as Rose the Male-Harasser.
WildHorizon Guild — Outside the Wall, 8:00 AM
Melissa strolled into work with a radiant, satisfied smile on her face, feeling completely rejuvenated from yesterday's events.
Stepping into the hall, she spotted Dylan and his party seated around a table, discussing future contracts. However, Rose was sitting slightly apart from the other two, face-down on the table with her arms wrapped tightly around her head to hide her face from view.
"Did something happen over here?" Melissa asked curiously, stepping up behind Dylan and naturally beginning to massage his shoulders with easy familiarity, her eyes locked on Rose.
"Why don't you ask 'Rose the Male-Harasser' directly?" Connor wheezed with laughter.
"ENOUGH!" Rose shrieked, bolting upright. "Villains are born from this kind of public humiliation, you know?!"
"No, villains are born from doing the creepy stuff you do!" Dylan shot back.
"Leave me alone!" Rose wailed, burying her face back into her arms in sheer embarrassment.
"Wait, what actually happened?" Melissa pressed, her curiosity thoroughly piqued.
"Let's just say she got a little too 'passionate' around everyone last night," Dylan explained.
"She shoot one guy right in the eye!" Connor revealed, leaving Melissa wide-eyed.
Melissa stared at Rose in utter disbelief. She had already gathered that Rose was a bit of a pervert during their chat yesterday, but she hadn't realized Rose was out here launching active ranged attacks at unsuspecting men.
Rose peeked up from her arms, only to lock eyes with a burly adventurer sitting a few tables away, glaring at her with pure murder in his eyes while sporting a brand-new eyepatch over his left eye.