"Big Radish Head" stumbled home in a daze.
It was a shabby rental in the slums, a gathering spot for street thugs. He ignored their greetings and collapsed onto his bed without even taking off his clothes.
The baseball bat studded with nails on the table, the posters of sexy pin-up girls on the walls—all of it reminded him that this was the real world, that he was indeed alive.
But there were things he couldn't dwell on.
For instance, the "Adventurer" who had stayed behind in the operating room to cover his retreat. By the time he had jumped down, the door had already been forced open by a charred monster. How could he survive in that perilous Void world?
"Big Radish Head" suddenly thought of something, rolled out of bed and went over to his old laptop, which had seen years of use. He logged into that familiar website—the one where everything started. The private messages still had a record of his trash-talking with "Jingling Bell."
There was an update on the website.
