Live Dungeon!

The next morning, Hannah was brighter and bouncier than ever. She devoured her breakfast with her usual gluttony, then made her bold declaration.

”I’m gonna whip this sluggish body back into shape today!”

Seeing her so cheerful, no longer weighed down by memories of the Fenrir, Tsutomu allowed himself a relieved smile.

[Would’ve been a real mess if she’d crashed and burned after that…]

When he first learned that Hannah had fallen sick from the emotional toll of their encounter with Fenrir, Tsutomu had clicked his tongue internally and muttered, ”Even an idiot can catch a cold, huh?” But no matter what he might have thought, he knew better than to blame a Clanmate for being ill. That lesson had been seared into him years ago… by none other than Live Dungeon.

It had been three years since he’d started playing. By then, he was a full-blown addict, sinking deeper and deeper into the life of a no-lifer. One of his older friends and fellow Clan member once messaged him, saying he couldn’t participate in the upcoming Time Attack tournament due to health issues.

Back then, Tsutomu could not comprehend why. He was the de facto core of an efficiency-focused Clan at the time; on top of coordinating raid strategies and managing party dynamics, he handled every tedious task required for the upcoming tournament. He was indisputably the busiest member of the Clan, and yet he had never once skipped a day of logging in. Even when running a fever, even during all-nighters that blurred into three-day marathons, he was always there.

So when his friend said he couldn’t play due to feeling under the weather, Tsutomu had been furious. He’d cornered him in chat, berating him relentlessly: ”Why would you back out of a tournament over something so trivial?”

That friend, worn down by Tsutomu’s merciless pressure, ended up joining the tournament. The result… was a crushing loss. After that, the friend never logged in again. Tsutomu would later learn there were other reasons behind his departure, but there was no doubt that Tsutomu’s harsh words had been the final nail.

At the time, Tsutomu told himself, ‘Anyone that fragile would’ve quit sooner or later anyway.’ But by the time he left the efficiency-first Clan behind, he had come to regret what he’d said and done.

If he’d only stopped to put himself in the other guy’s shoes, he might have realized it sooner. That friend had followed him down the path of hardcore play. He knew how important the tournament was. And yet, he had chosen to step away due to illness. The guilt of that choice must have weighed on him unbearably. It wasn’t just the physical toll; getting sick could gnaw at one’s confidence, too.

And when someone already burdened by that guilt gets lashed by the one they respect most, what else could happen but total collapse? Back then, Tsutomu couldn’t even imagine that. He’d simply thrown his anger at the problem until it broke. If only he had supported his friend instead of condemning him, maybe things could have turned out differently.

It was precisely because of that bitter memory that Tsutomu had gone out of his way to be gentle with Hannah during her sick leave, practically acting out of character. He did what he could to ease her recovery, so she could return to form without shame or pressure.

But now…

”Ehehe… You know, that thing you did yesterday wasn’t that big of a deal after all, Teach.”

”…That thing? You mean THAT thing?” Amy asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

”Yep. Guess Daryl’s just way too sensitive, huh?”

Watching Hannah strut around like she’d just won some imaginary victory, Tsutomu found himself glancing at Amy, who shot him a look like ‘What the hell did you do this time?’ After everything he’d done, after all the effort and reflection… and this was the result? Unbelievable.

”Hannah, you’re Birdkin. You don’t even have ears on your head like Daryl. So don’t act like it’s the same thing.”

He spoke the words aloud with a flick of the newspaper he had been skimming, his irritation too palpable to suppress. Hannah, hearing the challenge in his tone, sauntered over with a glint in her eye.

”Even IF I were Cynokin, I still wouldn’t get all flustered like he did.”

”Oh yeah? Want to test that?”

”Ooh? You sure? I mean, you totally botched it yesterday. Pretty sure you’re just gonna embarrass yourself again!”

Her gaze, teasing and slightly upturned, begged for a response. He almost gave in to the urge to smack her with a karate chop, but restrained himself; she’d only dodge it and laugh. He merely flexed his fingers, opening and closing his hand, and stepped directly in front of her.

He knew Hannah well. He’d heard stories about her from a woman who had once managed her during her time in Ealdred Crow. And after nearly a year of living under the same roof, he’d gotten used to her eccentricities.

Her boundless energy, paired with a certain charming cluelessness, made her easy to like. It was not just for men, but women too. However, her striking figure being so evident even under loose-fitting clothes occasionally drew the wrong kind of attention. The rural state of her village had apparently given her many difficulties in that regard growing up, too.

Thankfully, once she had joined Ealdred Crow, she had learned how to handle unwanted advances. That same manager who’d attended Hannah’s Absolute Helix interview session had made sure of it, so much so that she’d initially pegged Tsutomu as another pervy creep. Only after she made a name for herself as an evasion-based Tank had she changed her opinion.

At that point was when Tsutomu had been told all of this, especially the part about Hannah’s handling of romantic attention.

”Huh?”

Hannah yelped in surprise as Tsutomu slipped his fingers through her silky, well-maintained blue bangs and brushed them aside.

”So you’re saying you wouldn’t have a problem with getting your ears touched even if you were Cynokin… right?”

”D-Don’t worry, I’m totally fine!”

Hannah’s voice trembled with forced bravado as she averted her gaze. She was used to fending off lecherous stares and half-hearted come-ons from men who clearly only saw her body. She had enough confidence to tease Daryl when his gaze wandered now and then, and on the surface, she often seemed perfectly at ease with the idea of flirting.

”…Ugh…”

But that was only surface-level. She might’ve known how to deflect male attention, but she was far from experienced when it came to actual contact. That much had been confirmed by the manager who once oversaw her at Ealdred Crow. So now, faced head-on with Tsutomu, who, however familiar, was still unmistakably male, reaching out and brushing her ear in plain view… It was a situation that would make anyone’s heart pound.

It wasn’t about technique, nor was it about intent. Even if Tsutomu had stroked her ear with all the finesse of a toddler, Hannah simply was not built to withstand this kind of close-quarters surprise.

Tsutomu smirked as he watched her squirm.

”Hannah, I think you’re making an even worse face than Daryl right now.”

”Th-that’s not true…!”

”Hey, Daryl. Take a look at her. Isn’t she bright red?”

”Ah, yes. I’d say she is,” Daryl replied objectively.

At his calm confirmation, Hannah’s face burned even redder. Tsutomu pulled his hand away and gave a wave of both arms, as if he’d just dusted off a long-standing grudge.

”Let this be a lesson: don’t get too full of yourself next time.”

”Uuughhh!!”

Her high-pitched wail echoed through the house. Half-sputtering, half-screeching, she spun on her heel, tripped over her own feet in dramatic fashion, and bolted up the stairs.

Later, on the way to the Guild, Amy tugged sharply at Tsutomu’s ear and gave him a disgusted look. Still, he had no regrets; he had Live Dungeon to thank for teaching him when it was worth holding back… and when it wasn’t.