Chapter 3
1922words
I closed all chat applications and opened "Eternal Epoch."
When the login interface sound played, I felt the oppressive feeling in my chest ease slightly. This was the only world I could completely control—no complicated emotional entanglements, no image to maintain, just clear objectives and simple rules.
"Good evening, Your Majesty."
Felix's voice came through my headphones with his customary teasing tone. We'd been teaming up for three months, and he always called me that because I chose the mage class and never died.
"Stop joking around, what are we playing tonight?" I controlled my character to teleport to the meeting point, where Felix's warrior was already waiting.
"Shadow Fortress, heard there's double XP tonight," he said, already starting to form the team. "You sound tired."
"Work. Life. You know how it is," I replied casually, beginning to check my equipment and skill configuration.
"Ah, the standard adult answer," Felix laughed. "Let me guess—your boss gave you another impossible deadline? Or is it some guy giving you a headache again?"
I was stunned for a moment. Three months of teaming up had made Felix understand my life situation deeper than I'd imagined.
"Both," I confessed. "Sometimes I feel like my life is just a tangled mess."
"Then you've come to the right place. The monsters here are much more honest than people in reality—they want to kill you, but at least they say it directly."
Felix's words made me laugh out loud. We entered the dungeon and began our familiar coordination—I cast spells to control the battlefield, while he handled close combat. This tacit understanding was honed through countless collaborations, requiring no extra communication to execute tactics perfectly.
"So," Felix said while slashing monsters, "what kind of man is troubling our queen so much?"
"Not just one, but several," I said with a bitter smile as I cast an area-of-effect spell. "I have a... list. A rotation system. I thought this would prevent emotional attachment, but it turns out it's still complicated."
"A rotation system?" Felix's character paused. "Are you running some kind of dating empire?"
"More like managing chaos," I said. "I'm meeting one of them tonight. A finance tycoon with... special tastes."
"Special tastes. Sounds mysterious."
"He likes to be dominated. Humiliated. He wants me to play the role of a queen," I said directly; in this virtual world, I could be completely uninhibited. "The problem is, I don't enjoy that kind of power play at all. But he pays generously."
Silence for a few seconds.
"Chloe," Felix's voice turned serious, "it sounds like you're selling yourself as a commodity."
That comment struck a nerve. My character stood still, letting a small monster attack me as my health slowly decreased.
"Maybe," I said, "but at least I'm honest. No emotional manipulation, no false promises. Just a pure transaction."
"But shouldn't transactions make you feel fulfilled?" Felix saved my character and continued pushing. "I mean, if you're not getting any satisfaction from it..."
"Who said anything about satisfaction?" I argued. "Modern relationships are just about mutual needs. At least I'm clear about my boundaries."
"Clear about boundaries, but not clear about what you truly want."
I couldn't refute this statement. We continued silently fighting monsters, but the atmosphere had changed. Felix always did this, hitting right at the core with just a few words, forcing me to face the issues I'd been avoiding.
"What about you?" I changed the subject. "Mr. Felix, how's your love life?"
"Nonexistent," he laughed. "I prefer these virtual relationships. No drama, no expectations, just pure joy and good conversation."
"Then aren't you even more pathetic than me? At least I have real physical contact."
"Physical contact without emotional connection? I think my situation is more honest."
We cleared the final monster boss, and the experience points and equipment rewards leveled up my character again. But I felt a certain emptiness. Felix was right—I was pursuing physical connection rather than emotional, yet forgot to ask myself what I truly wanted.
"I need to log off," I said. "I have a date to get to."
"Go enjoy your finance tycoon, Your Majesty. Remember, you can say no anytime."
"I know."
"And Chloe?"
"What?"
"If those real-world men exhaust you too much, there's always a virtual friend waiting for you here."
I stared at the screen, something inside me gently stirred.
"Thank you, Felix."
"That's what friends are for."
---
I should have gone directly to Ben's hotel, but after logging out of the game, Alex's message suddenly popped up: "At Blonde Bar, come over for a drink?"
Blonde Bar was on my way to the hotel. It was on the way. I told myself it was just on the way.
There weren't many people in the bar. Under the dim light, I spotted Alex immediately. He was sitting at the counter, wearing that black leather jacket I loved.
But he wasn't alone.
A red-haired woman sat pressed against him, her hand on his thigh, laughing brazenly. Alex was ordering drinks for her, his movements natural and practiced, just like how he treated any woman he was interested in—including me.
I should have turned around and left. I should have pretended I didn't see. But my feet were nailed to the doorway.
The redhead leaned close to his ear and whispered something, and Alex smiled—that smile I thought was reserved only for me. Then his hand settled on her waist in a possessive way, just as he had done to me countless times.
My phone rang. It was a message from Alex: "Where are you?"
He didn't even know I was standing at the entrance, watching him flirt with another woman. Or perhaps he knew, but just didn't care.
I turned and walked out of the bar, my fingers trembling as I replied: "Traffic jam. Can't make it tonight."
Send.
Standing on the street, I remembered what Felix had just said: "Physical contact but no emotional connection?"
So I'm not the only one without an emotional connection. Alex doesn't have one either. He never did. Those late-night calls, those moments that made me feel special, were just his usual tactics, the same with every woman.
I wasn't the special one. I was just the convenient one.
---
Two hours later, I stood in the elevator of a five-star hotel in Manhattan, watching the numbers jump from 1 to 47. In the mirror, I was wearing a tight black leather skirt with high heels, playing the role Ben expected.
But my eyes were red.
Ben Whitmore, 42, founding partner of a Wall Street hedge fund, worth eight figures. To outsiders, he was a successful, domineering executive, but in this luxury suite, he knelt before me, waiting to be humiliated.
"You're late," I said in an icy tone, following the script he had written in his email.
"I'm sorry, Mistress," Ben bowed his head. "Please punish me."
I looked at this man who commanded such power in the business world, now craving punishment like a child. This scene should have made me feel powerful, but in reality I only felt tired and detached.
"Take off your clothes."
Ben obediently undressed, revealing a slightly bulky but still impressive body. He worked out regularly and took good care of himself, but standing there naked and vulnerable, he looked just... sad.
"Kneel down."
He knelt down.
"Tell me how pathetic you are."
"I'm pathetic, Mistress. I'm a failure."
I mechanically executed his fantasy, saying those insulting words, but my mind wasn't present at all. I thought about what Felix had just said, about that effortless connection in the game, about the moments when I truly felt alive while chatting with him.
"What are you thinking about?" Ben suddenly looked up at me, breaking character. "You seem distracted."
When he asked me this, I realized that I wasn't engaged at all.
"It's nothing, continue."
But the magic was already broken. Ben stood up and wrapped a towel around his waist.
"Chloe, I can feel that your heart isn't here."
I sighed and sat on the sofa. This kind of honesty was something I hadn't expected.
"Sorry. Tonight I'm... not in the right state."
Ben sat across from me, surprisingly understanding.
"You know what? Sometimes I also wonder why I need these things. At the office, I make millions of decisions a day, and everyone has to listen to me. But when I get home, I feel empty. Unless someone tells me I'm worthless, I can't feel anything."
I looked at him, and for the first time since we began this relationship, I saw a real person, not just a character.
"Maybe we're all looking for connection in the wrong way," I said.
"Maybe." Ben nodded. "But at least we're honest, right? Much more realistic than those who pretend that love actually exists."
But I thought of Felix, recalled our conversations in the virtual world, that sense of understanding and warmth. Was that love? Or was I just romanticizing a safe friendship without real consequences?
"I think neither of us is in the right state tonight," I stood up. "Maybe we should reschedule."
Ben didn't protest. He paid the usual fee, even leaving extra tip, "for wasting your time."
As I left the hotel, New York's night air felt especially cold. I hailed a cab back to Brooklyn, staring out the window the whole way, watching the city lights blur past.
---
Back at my apartment, I changed out of that roleplay outfit and put on comfortable pajamas. I opened my computer, the interface of "Eternal Epoch" was still open, but Felix's avatar was gray—offline status.
I stared at that gray avatar, feeling an unexpected sense of loss welling up inside me. This person I had never met in person, this friend who existed only in the virtual world, understood me better than any of my real-life lovers.
Several more messages came on my phone—Alex asking if I was free tomorrow, and the other two men on my list each sending invitations. But I had no desire to reply to any of them.
What I missed was Felix's voice, that comfort that required no performance, that simple understanding.
Perhaps Ben was right, we were all seeking connections in the wrong ways. But maybe Felix was also right—sometimes, the virtual can be more real than reality, because there, we don't have to pretend to be someone else.
I turned off the computer and lay in bed staring at the ceiling. How would I face my colleagues tomorrow? How would I face Mason's hurt gaze? How would I face those who knew my true self?
I recalled Ethan's words: "I sincerely hope you find what you want."
What I want. What do I really want?
My phone vibrated again. This time it was Ben: "Tonight at nine, the usual place?"
I stared at the message, remembering how he knelt before me, remembering that feeling of pretending to be strong while feeling empty inside.
And there was Alex's message flashing above: "Come over."
Two men, two needs, the same me.
My fingers hovered over the screen.
Go to Ben's place? Go to Alex's place? Or turn off the phone and pretend none of this exists?
Outside the window, Brooklyn's night was so dense it couldn't be dissolved. I had to make a choice.
