Chapter 36: Diamond Rank, Iron Dreams

It was well past midnight when Micah finally returned home. The moment his bedroom door clicked shut behind him, he slouched against it, dragging his feet toward the bathroom. The hot water from the shower beat down on his sore shoulder, making him feel alive. He leaned his head against the cool tiles, eyes closed, letting the water wash away the sweat and grim.

After drying off, he slipped into an oversized t-shirt that nearly swallowed his slim frame and a pair of loose cotton shorts. He flopped face-first into the bed, limbs spread out like a starfish, groaning into the pillows.

He rolled over lazily and reached for his phone, eyes narrowing as they fixed on the number saved on the screen.

He hesitated, lips pursed in thought.

After thinking for a few minutes, he decided to use his WeChat ID again.

Micah knew he should use an alias, something anonymous, but his tendency to misplace things was infamous. He’d once lost his wallet twice in one week. The idea of losing a phone mid-plan was not just inconvenient. It was a potential disaster.

Besides he wasn’t worried about being tracked. He tapped the screen and opened the app. Thanks to his uncle Owen, Micah had managed to get his hands on a premium anti-tracking app with Military-grade encryption.

He searched for Aidan Wilson’s WeChat account and found one named RiverBridge.

A soft scoff escaped him.

Micah glanced at it and found it tasteless. He rolled his eyes and sent a friend request, fingers tapping quickly against the screen.

RogueOverlord: A friendly reminder: don’t invest in the Shoele project. It is a trap designed to embezzle.

That should shake things up a bit.

He tossed the phone aside and reached for a pillow, hugging it to his chest. His gaze drifted to the last message Darcy had sent earlier.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

The brother and sister’s WeChat IDs were so simple. Just their names, or rather, the meanings behind them.

Micah sighed. They were too trustworthy and straightforward.

He typed to Darcy.

RogueOverlord: What are you doing?

Darcy responded almost instantly.

DescendantoftheDarkOne: just finished my work. Heading home.

RogueOverlord: Until now? Be careful.

Text me when you get home.

Micah felt distressed, chewing on his lips. Friday nights were the playgrounds of drunk idiots and troublemakers. What if some hooligans messed up with Darcy on the way home?

DescendantoftheDarkOne: I only started today, hence the delay in leaving work. You are too worried. How’s your arm?

Micah blinked. Right, the stab wound. He turned his head to look at the bandages on his upper arm.

RogueOverlord: Fine. After the weekend, the stitches will come out.

DescendantoftheDarkOne: that’s good. Want to hang out?

RogueOverlord: how?

DescendantoftheDarkOne: Do you play LOJ?

Micah hesitated.

RogueOverlord: Yeah, but I am awful.

DescendantoftheDarkOne: I can carry you.

RogueOverlord: yay! Let’s go!

DescendantoftheDarkOne: go online in ten minutes.

Micah grinned and leapt from the bed with sudden energy, his earlier fatigue replaced with giddy excitement. He powered up his computer and set up his headphones. Grabbing some snacks to munch on, he was ready to play games.

He logged into his account, FrostbiteAshe, silver level. Technically, that was only thanks to his cousin Cora.

But his actual skill was probably iron-level at best, not even bronze!

Micah felt a little embarrassed, but he had warned Darcy that he was terrible at the game. Still, teaming up with Darcy might actually help him to sharpen his skills. After all, he needed those for his future plan.

After ten minutes, Darcy’s message came.

DescendantoftheDarkOne: My game ID is DarkVyne.

Micah typed the name and froze.

"You’ve gotta be kidding me!"

Micah groaned and slumped forward, his forehead thumping against the keyboards.

Darcy was Diamond level! One level below master! WTF!

His cousin, who live-streamed daily, was only platinum!

He sent a friend request dispiritedly.

DarkVyne: I can’t talk. Mum and Nora are asleep. What do you want to do first? PVP? Or some grinding? Or want to team up and level up?

Micah clicked the voice chat icon and adjusted the mic.

"Isn’t our level difference too high?! What if we run into a team of elites?! If we lose you drop in ranking! With your level, I am sure people know you, it would be so embarrassing! Let’s just do PVP, and you can teach me a bit!"

DarkVyne: okay. But I can create a subaccount for next time. You worry too much. I don’t care about that. I play for fun.

Micah felt like vomiting blood. Darcy’s gaming for fun was equivalent to his never-come-true dream! Why are they far apart?!

Micah sighed loudly, dragging a hand down his face. His sigh was dramatic, the kind let out when one’s soul is being slowly crushed.

DarkVyne: what’s with the sigh?!

Micah jumped, oh right, the mic was still on.

"Nothing. Let’s go train a bit."

Thank god he hadn’t accidentally mutter a curse or say something inappropriate.

With each passing second, Micah’s plan to pretend to be a girl and deceive that Esport captain felt more unreal and totally impossible!

For the next two hours, they played. First, some PvP matches, then Darcy dragged Micah to team up for one round, which turned out to be a disaster. Micah was taken out in the first second, totally useless. Darcy, on the other hand, wiped out the entire enemy team on his own and was crowned MVP of the match.

With every kill Darcy landed, Micah cheered like a proud fan, showering him with endless praise.

By the end of it, Micah was yawning into his mic.

"Okay, I’m calling it. Good night," he murmured and logged off. He went to the bed, pulled a blanket over himself and slept smiling.

*******

On the other side of the city, in an office, a mobile phone buzzed.

A screen glowed cold blue against the man’s face as he scrolled through data and reports.

The soft click of keys stopped abruptly.

His blond hair was neatly trimmed, and his eyes were a striking pale blue, sharp and distinguishing, like ice over a deep lake. His crisp white shirt sleeves rolled to the elbow and clung slightly to his tall athletic frame as he leaned forward in his chair.

He pinched the bridges of his nose and glanced from his laptop to his mobile.

A friend request.

He was puzzled. This number was private. Not many have it. Unlocking the phone, he read the message silently.

RogueOverlord: a friendly reminder: don’t invest in the Shoele project. It is a trap designed to embezzle.

His pupils dilated, feeling surprised. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping on the armrest.

"Interesting..."

How did this person know?

He had only discovered the inconsistencies in the Shoele project three hours ago.

It was a green energy initiative everyone wanted in on. Full of potential.

This project was a highly sought-after one.

However, some of the project details were vague. He was afraid it would become a failed project.

Investigating, he discovered it was related to a foreign company.

Coincidence? Unlikely.

His fingers hovered over the block option, but he instead tapped Accept.

If someone knew about Shoele, they were either well-informed or involved. And either way, it was better to keep them close.

The man closed the app and resumed his work.

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