My Ex-Girlfriend is the Strongest Guild Master and I’m the Weakest!

Chapter 8: 8 – Finally, a place to call home? [REVISITED]


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It started as a group of shadows pursuing him, yelling unintelligible things at him. I can only hear grunts, but I know they hate me.

Alan saw himself running through brick corridors lit by torches. The place reeked of blood and oil. Its layout, strangely familiar to the Santa María’s engine area.

When he got into a dead end, he turned to face them, but no matter what he tried, the black silhouettes in front of him were intangible. Then, a giant hand rescued him from the hellish labyrinth and held him aloft.

Alan could only distinguish a pair of glacial blue eyes inspecting him as if he was an insect. “Don’t stare at me like that, you creep…”

He was put inside a glass bottle and got discarded, so that time itself would also forget all about him.

Sitting hopelessly, while hugging his own legs for eternity, strangely fitted him. A label on the bottle, written in cursive, said: 'Forgotten.’

“It should say ‘unloved’ instead, but that’s okay too,” he said to himself, and a giggle was heard as a response.

“Unloved, huh? I could fix that,” a woman said from inside the bottle, but Alan looked at his surroundings, finding nothing. “I’m here, silly, inside you.”

He stared at the reflection behind him, admiring his own eyes gradually turning golden, suddenly, a girl with red skin looked back at him. She giggled again and reached out a hand, seemingly escaping from whatever mirror dimension she had been sealed in.

“What the hell?!” he cried, falling on his back.

“Hell? That’s what I call home, handsome.” The girl grinned with black-painted lips that contrasted with her white, gleaming pointy teeth. 

Once she sat on his crotch, her long, red hair moved on its own like a group of silky snakes, and tied him up. Although captive, his fear quickly turned into arousal. She’s clearly evil, but I wouldn’t mind getting eaten by her. Even her demonic horns look pretty.

“That’s the spirit…” she said in a soft, enticing voice while grinding her hips against his. At her every movement, her stacked bosom, barely covered by a black leather bikini, wiggled as a way to mesmerize him, in the same way a cobra does with its prey. “Unlike HER, I’ll let you stare all you want. You’ll just have to pay the price…”

She leaned forward, seemingly looking for a kiss, but with a loud hiss, she bit his neck instead. Blood sprouted like a fountain, filling the bottle and blocking the view from any potential peeper.

The phrase, ‘this is not a bad way to die…’ echoed through his head until he opened his eyes.

Alan found himself soaked in sweat, lying on a bed that smelled of lavender, in a room he did not recognize.

“Dreaming inside a lucid dream… It’s so… freaking confusing… Does succubus exist in this digital world?”

The images from his dream were still clear in his mind, and the warm sensation of that devilish redhead biting his neck still haunted him. He touched the skin around that area, trying to hold that feeling as much as possible, until something between his legs got his attention.

The awakened little buddy beneath his underwear seemed to say: ‘Although scary, it ended up being a pretty neat dream, huh? Wanna play with me while it’s still fresh in our memory?’

He cringed, forming fists. “‘This is not a bad way to die’?! Are you kidding me?!” He tore from his hair, and started rolling on the bed, shouting: “Disgusting, disgusting! These kinds of fetishes are harmful for my pure, innocent mind. Did you hear me?! Forget all about it or I’ll never play with you again!”

Panting, he buried his flushed face against the pillow. 

This is what I get after months with no human contact… Especially female contact! Admiring Ashley’s cuteness was fine at the beginning, helping me regain my sanity, but these fully developed women's bodies are on a whole different level!

His mind flashed with the few glimpses he caught last night of The Redhead’s black tight dress, and Astrid's swimsuit armor.

Yes… After staring at rough, metallic surfaces, mechas, bolts and digital panels for 8 months straight, finally being able to watch healthy—and by healthy, I mean big—breasts, feels like arriving in paradise!

He sighed while looking at the ceiling. Max-level suits are the best… All worth it…

After finally venting that out, he inspected the room. Compared to the emptiness and lifelessness of the Santa María’s Room 13, this is actually cozy and relaxing.

The light of the Novus sun entered through the window and reflected on the wood-patterned tiled floor. In front of him, plenty of furniture at his disposal, and a large, oval mirror from which his reflection stared back. But this time, nothing will come out of it… Right?

He stood up and looked through the window, finding tall buildings and busy streets to explore. This is a real city… Unus Town could never compete with this.

Glancing at the furniture again, he noticed a yellow piece of paper stuck to a drawer. It read: ‘Open me.’ Inside, he found a pair of white sneakers, black baggy pants, a red sporty jacket, and another note: ‘I hope you like them.’ The signature, a star.

He remembered how to put them on with a push of a system button, and in a matter of seconds, he was fully dressed and ready to go. He checked his reflection, nodding approvingly.

“Thanks, Astrid. I know you got this for me...”

While forming a smile on his lips, the memory of the alluring demoness from his dream hijacked his mind. That face… I remember her now… Amelia Laflamme. The gal that killed me repeatedly last night.

Feeling angry and guilty with himself at the same time, he stared right into his own reflection’s eyes and punched himself in the cheek.

Outside his room, a girl was waiting for him in the corridor, wearing a purple mage robe. “Good morning, Alan Warden! The Guild Master has instructed me to…” She squinted. “What happened to your face?”

“Don’t mind it. Wait…” He blushed. “If you were here outside, you didn’t hear me yelling, did you?”

The girl looked at him, confused for a second, before shaking her head vigorously. “What? No! Of course not! These walls are thick, after all! I didn’t hear a thing!”

She heard it all…

“But that looks like a very nasty bruise,” she continued, staring at his cheek. “I can cast ‘Quick-Fix’ if--”

“No, thank you. That would defeat its purpose.” 

“Alright then,” the petite girl said with a warm smile. “My name is Tamara Morin. We met last night, in a hectic, brief way.”

“Oh, yeah! You’re the ‘Force Shield Girl’!”

“That’s me!” she said, puffing her chest out with pride, giving him a glimpse of her small, fragile figure.

It has almost the same frame as Isabella II… I mean, Ashley… Alan stared at Tamara’s young features, until making her frown. Would Ashley look as friendly as this girl if she acted like a regular human being?

“Is something on my face, too?” she asked.

“I was just thinking about how awesome your magic is! It even withstood Astrid’s power. Thanks for protecting me last night. So, you were saying?”

“Right! Astrid instructed me to give you this message.” Tamara opened her User Interface and made a video window appear in front of Alan. 

A recorded Astrid was walking nonstop in a corridor, giving her back to the camera: “Tammie, I have to go. Tell Alan I won’t be able to show him around, but that we can have dinner tonight. In the meantime, I’ll let you be in charge of his protection today. Understood? I don’t want a repeat of what happened last night again... And EVER.”

“Yes, Guild Master…”

“Great. Thanks Tammie. I owe you--” Before opening the door, Astrid glanced back, gasping. “TAM! Are you recording me again?! Do not show this to--!”

“I love it when she yells ‘Tam’ at me,” Tamara said, closing the video, a blushed, dreamy expression on her face.

“She looks quite busy…” Alan whispered, grabbing the cloth around his chest. It’s okay. I’m finally here. We’ll have plenty of time to hang around later on.

He then turned his gaze towards the smiling girl, who waiting for any additional comment from him.

And I also need to reunite with Ashley.

“Tamara, is it possible to send a message to someone I’ve been traveling along lately? Does my User Interface keep a record of everyone I meet?”

Tamara tilted her head slightly. “No, I don’t think so. That sounds more like what an Administrator would keep info of. You don’t know the name of this person?”

“I only know her first name, sadly. And with that alone, I can’t add her to my friend's list.”

“Bummer…” she said, pouting her lips.

Even if I could communicate with someone from Unus Town like Monique Ascencio to keep an eye on Ashley, I’m pretty sure that she would charge me and increase my debt. Besides, I told Ashley to wait for me at the Renoviato Caves. She doesn’t have a reason to leave without me. At least I hope so…

“Okay, another question. Is there a way to get in contact with an Administrator?”

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“Unfortunately, they only talk in person with their Moderators, and they’re a different can of worms, believe me. The only reason we know the Mods exist is because they occasionally make live announcements about some important update or big event. But, Alan, even if you get in contact with one, I doubt they’ll help you find your friend.”

Alan scrutinized her youthful face. She seemed like the very first honest person he had crossed paths since he logged back. Astrid trusts her. That’s all I need to know.

“Thanks for all this info, Tamara.”

“Was I really helpful? I just answered you with what I know.”

“No, really, you truly cleared my doubts.”

“Glad to help!”

“So, by Astrid’s orders, you’re stuck with me today.”

“That’s right! Do you like pancakes? Follow me!” Tamara beamed at him and led the way, leaving behind a trail of strawberry scent. “You can order breakfast from your room and an NPC will bring it to you, but it’s more fun to eat at the cafeteria.”

As they walked through a corridor long enough to house close to a hundred windows, Alan could see a pool outside, where some Guilders were having a private competition. Beyond it, a yard used to practice Summoning. One guilder magically brought a 32-feet tall bipedal dinosaur that bowed to him.

“As you can see, our home has all the facilities an adventurer could wish for. We have plenty of training areas for any field you’d wish to master, and… Look over there. That’s one of the Damage Calculator rooms. Good morning, Karen, Faiza!”

Alan looked in the pointed direction where two girls were about to enter. The tall, black-haired one noticed the two approaching and grimaced after crossing eyes with Alan. The short one with a drowsy expression on her face, as if she had just awakened, faintly waved back at Tamara before closing the door.

“Where was I?” Tamara continued. “Yes! Tell me, Alan, is it any class you’d wish to learn or perfect?”

“Um. I’m not familiar with all the Novus Classes, so… I’d have to have a look at them first.”

“Oh! Right.” She smiled brightly at him, but he knew she was doing it apologetically.

As if she had forgotten for a moment that I haven’t been around for the last… what, three years?

“Let’s have a brief detour to show you my favorite place in all the HQ,” Tamara said as they deviated towards a short corridor. “The Trophy Room! Where you can immortalize your best achievements by hanging a--”

She pursed her lips after recognizing who was there.

The large room was decorated with framed videos of every Shooting Star Guilder in their finest hour. Marco Souza, the man that had rallied a third of the guild against Alan, was standing in front of the monument of a winged lion, by his side, a muscular guy and a childish-looking teenager.

The big one is William, the first guy that killed me. And the young one is Matt, the one that broke my fingers while on our way to this city.

Alan noticed that Matt was manipulating a system menu coming from the monument. It seemed to be the room’s control panel, for a video disappeared out of the corner of his eye, and then another on the front wall. 

Are they rearranging them?

Alan crossed eyes with Marco, who smiled gently at him, contrasting William’s glare.

Why are you smiling at me, you--?

“A-anyway, the cafeteria is right this way, Alan,” Tamara said anxiously as she pulled him from the arm.

A couple of minutes later, Alan noticed how hungry he was after the smell of butter and coffee reached him. There, close to twenty people chatted while enjoying scrambled eggs, bacon, orange juice, and tea.

This reminds me of the Alvearium Enterprise HQ, where most of the selected passengers spent some time getting to know each other before leaving Earth. So nostalgic. I met Astrid there, and it was the best week I--

His smile slowly faded as half of the present stared at him. The rest also noticed him once Tamara grabbed his hand to lead him to the food bar. “Come, Alan,” she said, oblivious to the fact that the whole place had gone silent.

Before looking away, Alan did not recognize any of their faces from the previous night. Which means that word of my return has already spread to the rest of the guild. He looked down at Tamara’s small hand, grabbing him. And who knows if people here support that Marco guy too.

The smile Marco dedicated to him in the Trophy Room made him sick. How can you smile like that after what you did to me?

With the help of Tamara, Alan filled a tray with pancakes, coffee and eggs, and returned to the tables, where people were now whispering at each other, while sending him furtive looks.

“Hey, Level Five!” a girl waved her hand at him. “Come and sit with us!”

Alan recognized her right away. Ashley’s killer.

Besides her, a long-haired redhead hissed at her. “What the hell are you doing?”

It’s her… Amelia Laflamme.

Alan exhaled deeply and walked towards them, ignoring Tamara’s suggestion that they should sit somewhere else.

“Hi, ‘Kidnapper Girl’.”

“Don’t call me that! You wanted to come here voluntarily, remember? I just helped. And use my name, Five. I’ve already introduced myself yesterday.” She waited, but seeing Alan’s blank face made her groan. “I’m Marissa Laflamme! MA-RI-SSA!”

“Alright, Marissa. My name is not ‘Five’. I’m Alan,” he said as he took a seat, to the dismay of Tamara, who reluctantly joined them.

“Morning, Tammie.” Marissa smirked.

“Morning, Marissa… Amelia.”

Amelia did not answer, pretending to be busy on her User Interface.

“Wait, did you say ‘Laflamme’?” Alan squinted, looking in Amelia’s direction. “Are you guys sisters?”

“That’s right,” Marissa replied, while stuffing her mouth with food. “The Deadly Flowers of Carcella." 

Alan kept staring at Amelia, who was changing the color of her lipstick by tapping her User Interface. Her lips changed from pink to blue to black.

Marissa swallowed before giggling. "Do you like what you see?" 

Hearing that made Alan blink repeatedly and shake his head. "I-I wasn't--"

"Tam is showing you the facilities, isn't she? Do you like what you've seen so far?"

"R-right! Very impressive place! I can't imagine how much you've all inves--"

After deciding to wear a dark crimson shade of lipstick, Amelia snapped her fingers, making her breakfast catch fire and burn into a crisp. "I've lost my appetite." She stood up and passed by Alan without glancing at him.

For a moment, seeing that fruit salad combust, reminded him of how painful dying by her pyromancy was. What was I thinking? Just because I had a wet dream about her, doesn't change the fact that she opposes me being here… He closed his fist under the table. What am I even doing here?

"Tamara. Punch me."

"W-what?! Why—I mean, NO!"

"Can I do it?" Marissa asked.

"No, Marissa, you'll kill him!"

"It'll be a small hit using my index finger, I promise."

"Do it," Alan said. "Before I change my mind."

Both of them nodded at each other and leaned forward.

"You know…" Marissa whispered, while holding her finger aloft in front of his forehead. "I kind of get the idea why you're punishing yourself."

While he dedicated her a puzzled look, her finger glowed with a red aura.

Crap… I'm regretting alre--"OUCH! Holy shit!"

The hit took 20% of his health.

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