Rylan's stomping echoed across the floor repeatedly in frustration.
His face turned red, and he lost control, kicking the side of the table in front of him.
"Stupid game!" Rylan shouted.
He grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it, screaming as loud as he could.
"Shut up!"
A yell came from the room next door. His female neighbor was disturbed again.
Living in a small apartment in a run-down area often meant Rylan had to deal with complaints from neighbors who were annoyed by his frequent yelling whenever he lost a game.
Understandably so—gaming wasn't just his hobby; it was his job as a game reviewer.
Realm of the Cursed Prophecy was the game he had been playing, or rather, battling with, for the past seventy-six hours.
"Damn it! How can I finish this game in the first week if I keep failing? Stupid game!" Rylan grumbled.
The ringtone on his phone made his anger spike. This time, he screamed without covering his mouth.
But the name "Lea" flashing on the screen made him pause.
Hurriedly grabbing his jacket, Rylan answered the call while stepping out of his apartment.
"Hey, honey! Yes, I'm just near the café intersection—wait for me there!" he said.
He dashed off, suddenly remembering his promise to meet his fiancée at a nearby café.
But his loud, ragged breathing made it clear to Lea that Rylan's words were just lies.
"I've been waiting here for over fifteen minutes," Lea said sharply. "I'll give you ten more minutes. If you're not here by then, we're done."
The call ended before Rylan could respond.
He quickened his pace. He couldn't let a two-year relationship end like this.
As a game reviewer with an unstable income, having an independent woman like Lea in his life was a stroke of luck.
Thankfully, the short distance allowed Rylan to make it in just seven minutes.
Lea greeted him with a sharp glare, pushing a tissue box toward her panting boyfriend.
"Sorry, honey. Why didn't you call me?" Rylan asked.
"Shouldn't I be asking you why you didn't remember this meeting?"
Rylan took a deep breath. "I messed up, okay? I'm sorry."
"For the umpteenth time. Can I be honest?" Lea asked. "I'm tired of dealing with you and your obsession with those games! You've ignored my messages for two days, Rylan!"
"Not now, Lea. Come on! I'm here now. Stop making an issue of my job. You know gaming is how I make money, right?"
Lea gave a crooked smile and shrugged. She didn't respond with words but instead signaled the waiter to approach.
"Order something. You probably haven't eaten, right?" Lea asked.
Rylan nodded awkwardly, grabbing the menu and ordering pasta and orange juice.
Uneasiness churned inside him. Once again, he had to rely on Lea during their meeting.
For the past three months, to be exact, Rylan's finances had been shaky, forcing him to cut back on spending.
His viewership had dropped, with many commenters saying his gameplay had become boring.
"Rylan, there's something important I need to talk to you about," Lea said.
"What is it?"
Lea clasped Rylan's hands, stroking them gently.
"It's about us. My dad says that if you still can't secure a stable income… then I'll have to leave you."
Rylan's heart raced.
From the beginning of their relationship, Rylan had known this moment would come. Lea was from a wealthy family—her father a prominent lawyer, and Lea herself a financial advisor at a prestigious private company.
Love might bring people together, but it couldn't pay the bills.
"I'll marry you, Lea. That's a promise," Rylan said.
"I know that. But my parents need proof. They don't want to see me wasting time on someone with no direction. I'm not saying this to belittle you, but… prove it to them."
"I'll help you with my savings, Rylan, but at least show me your seriousness. Save up $100,000 in three months, okay?"
Rylan couldn't refuse the request, no matter how daunting it was.
From the three platforms where he reviewed games, Rylan earned only $10,000 a month.
If Lea had made this request a year ago—before his mother had run off with his savings—it might have been possible.
The meeting left Rylan torn, and even the food he ordered tasted bland.
Rylan's steps felt heavy, and it took him half an hour to return to his apartment.
With a heavy sigh, Rylan opened the door, plopping himself in front of the TV.
He resumed playing Realm of the Cursed Prophecy.
The profile of Zhoroth, the final boss, appeared on the screen. Squinting, Rylan muttered, "I'll beat you, bastard!"
Fueled by ambition, Rylan focused all his energy on defeating the overwhelmingly powerful final boss.
But within five minutes, his character lost its last life, forcing Rylan to restart from level one.
Rage silenced him. He clenched his fists and stormed toward the TV.
He yanked the game disc out and hurled it at the wall.
Rylan turned off the apartment lights and flung himself onto the bed.
Sleep became his escape from the chaos of the day.
Perhaps out of sheer frustration, Rylan quickly fell into a deep sleep.
At least for an hour.
A strange noise from the TV woke him.
"What the fuck!" Rylan muttered.
Squinting at the screen, he saw the words: "ARE YOU READY TO SACRIFICE EVERYTHING?"
Panic surged through Rylan. He pressed the TV's power button and the game console repeatedly, but nothing worked.
A rumbling sound grew louder, intensifying his fear.
He tried to run out of the apartment, but the door wouldn't budge.
The rumbling grew deafening, and the lights went out, accompanied by Rylan's terrified scream echoing through the room.
The scream grew fainter and fainter until it disappeared altogether.
When the noise ceased, the lights flickered back on.
The once-messy apartment was now spotless, the TV switched off—but something was missing.
Rylan.
He was gone.