Isaac, ticked off after his loss against the mysterious player dubbed 'Joan', pushed open the door to his apartment. The door slammed behind him as he lazily threw his shoes off, not caring to neatly line them up the way his father loved.
"Home," he announced.
No one answered.
He frowned. Ever since his father's return, a warm meal always greeted Isaac as he peeled off his shoes.
But now, the apartment was eerily dark—just like before. The lights in the kitchen were off and the only noise echoing throughout the apartment was the gentle whir of the AC.
Isaac walked to the living room—the only room that was lit. As he peeked through the doorway, he noticed his mother sitting solemnly on the couch.
She was hunched over and retracting into her shell. Her head hung in her hands, and the slight vibrations that shook her back set a feeling of unease off in Isaac's stomach.
"Mom?" Isaac called. "What's wrong?"
He intuitively knew what happened, but he refused to believe the horrible truth until his mother confirmed it for him.
"Mom?" Isaac tried again.
His mother turned to face him. Her short, black hair splayed in all directions, and her eyes were hollow and bloodshot. Her swollen eyes confirmed Isaac's sneaking suspicions.
"Isaac," she weakly rasped. The wrinkles on her face seemed to be more pronounced. It was as if she had aged 10 years overnight.
Isaac's gut twisted. His bile climbed the walls of esophagus and knocked at the door of his mouth. Trembling, he pulled his phone from his pocket.
The camera scanned his features before unlocking the phone.
Isaac's fingers hovered over his banking app, terrified to see what had happened. Gritting his teeth, he forced his stiff fingers to tap the app.
'Balance: $5'
"I'm sorry," was all Isaac's mother was able to squeeze out.
Isaac's knees buckled, and he found himself sitting on the floor. But as much as he wanted the tears to pour, and the pain to debilitate him, none of the heart-wrenching feelings came. There was only regret.
He should've known better. It was too good to have been true. And so, just like two years ago, Isaac and his mother were left with nothing after being used.
Isaac squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his arms to wake up from the nightmare.
"He's coming home soon, right?" Isaac wheezed, his voice cracking at every syllable. "He'll be back soon."
But Isaac already knew the answer.
Rent would be due soon. The money that Isaac made from ganging up on Rem Oaks was all gone. And so were the donations from his streams and the dollar bills he extorted from unwilling students.
A wretched scream burned Isaac's throat. In his frustration, he slammed the ground with his fist, ignoring the burn that set ablaze his wrist. Echoes of his cries carried throughout the apartment complex, startling unsuspecting tenants.
"Mom, it's all your fault," Isaac spat angrily. "This all happened because you refuse to get a job��refuse to be useful. You're a leach." The angry words incessantly poured out of Isaac's mouth.
His mother looked at the ground in shame. Her brows gently furrowed together as an expression of guilt settled on her face.
"Why do you have to leave everything to me?" Isaac questioned. His lips pulled back in an ugly snarl. "You've already ruined your life. Do you have to ruin mine?"
His sharp words tore through his mother's heart. And as tears began to drip down her cheeks, guilt tore at Isaac's gut. But the words uncontrollably poured out of his mouth.
When he'd exhausted his tongue, Isaac exhaustedly retreated to his room and hopelessly fell onto the bed. Its warm duvet welcomed him with open arms and beckoned him to sleep.
With a heavy heart and heavy eyelids, Isaac's eyes fluttered shut, and he finally slipped into a peaceful slumber.
***
"Hey, Ji," Jackal said. "Wanna come play Mortal Strike later?"
Jackal, Mad Dog, and Black Dog hovered over the desk of one of their underclassman. After hearing all the hype about Mortal Strike, they were eager to try the battle Royale out for themselves.
Ji looked up at the three boys crowding around his desk with an impish grin. "Nah, I'm going to try and play with Rem. Heard she's really good—maybe she can carry me out of Gold."
A vein above Jackal's eyebrow twitched. It seemed that wherever he went, the name Rem followed. Her popularity had risen dramatically over the months since her arrival, and Jackal despised it.
Annoyed, Jackal straightened his back and kicked the leg of Ji's desk. "Fucking lame."
An expression of annoyance fleeted over Ji's face, but he quickly controlled his expression into something friendlier. Although Jackal, Mad Dog, and Black Dog were less intimidating after rumors of their defeat against Rem circulated, Mad Dog was still the Jack of M High School and had an important position in the White Snakes. It'd be best to not piss him off too much.
"Chill, man," Black Dog chuckled. "Ji ain't our only option."
Jackal had sought out Ji because of Ji's reputation of being a good Mortal Strike player. Of course, the rumors around Ji were nothing in comparison to the ones of Rem's god-tier aim.
Jackal, Mad Dog, and Black Dog strode out of classroom 2-4, and much to their displeasure, Rem walked out of her classroom, 2-3, at the same time.
Rem looked to her right and her gaze fell upon the three boys. The corner of her mouth twitched, but the expression in her cold eyes remained stagnant.
Mad Dog stared at her in horror. How had she already healed from that time?
Joan's superhuman abilities accelerated her healing rate by a considerable amount, but so far, no one had yet to notice.
Twinges of anger arose in Mad Dog when he saw Rem's nonchalant appearance. There was no ounce of fear in her, even after the Immortals and White Snakes had brutally beaten her up.
Mad Dog clenched his fist, digging half-moons into the flesh of his palms. Seeing Rem made him inexplicably angry, and his previous good mood was quickly extinguished.
Wordlessly, he walked past Rem, making sure to shove her shoulder as he passed by her.
"She pisses me off," Mad Dog hissed under his breath.
Black Dog nodded his head as he peeked over his shoulder to get one last glimpse at Rem. As he looked back, he made eye-contact with Rem, whose eyes followed their retreating figures.
Her unmoving expression and cold eyes sent chills down his spine, and Black Dog quickly whipped his head back around to avoid her gaze. A baed of cold sweat dripped down his forehead as he remembered her sheer strength when they fought behind the school building.
Joan cocked her head to the side as she stared at their retreating figures. What were they doing in the junior hallway?
She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as the corners of her lips pulled back into a snarl. Seeing them had dampened her mood.
It was because of their fragile egos that she had lost to a bunch of high school boys.
"PK, when's my next mission?" Joan already knew the answer, but at this point, she was desperate for some extra cash.
PK snorted. "I already told you—I calibrate mission based on their importance and relation to Navier."
Joan groaned. "I should throw him to pack a wolves. Then, I'd get a mission to rescue him, no?"
"Stupid, I'd kill you before you'd get the chance."