The toilet echoed with the sound of water rushing down.
In the end, he released all the built-up stress the way every man in the universe knew worked—by handling it himself.
After that quiet, shamefully honest moment, a strange state of focus and clarity settled in.
Thoughts turned reflective. He started questioning the meaning of life.
Perhaps the path to enlightenment really does begin in the most undignified places.
"Ahem," he cleared his throat, realizing he somehow turned the act of jerking off into some kind of sacred ritual.
There were still bigger problems—like fixing things between them. It's not like he could just rub her the way he did himself and expect it to work... or could he?
'Shit.. sidetracked again. Guess that's the curse of having a brain that never shuts up—always tossing out witty ideas.' he muttered, shaking his head—this time, the one on his shoulders.
Sitting at the front desk, he waited and tried to act like nothing happened, even as he caught her walking from the corner of his eye.
She was dressed, but skipped the bulky princess outfit this time.
Just basic white under garments—enough to cover her torso and down to her knees.
Neve still looked awkward and embarrassed, rubbing her arm with one hand.
"Here's your breakfast," he said, setting the cup noodles on the counter. "Better to wait a few minutes before eating. It tastes better when it's not soggy."
She nodded, grabbed the cup noodles, and ran back to her room.
Her cheeks flushed—probably replaying the awkward rom-com scene from earlier.
'Damn, she's too adorable,' he thought, unable to hide a small smile.
Forget about her falling for him—he was already falling for her. And honestly, who could blame him?
Guys were wired to chase what looked good or cute. No point denying it.
It made them want to protect someone or, sometimes, just pin them down.
Being alone with a hot girl in a place was a dream come true for some. If this were a hentai, she would have been done for from hour one.
At least he had the decency to take things slow—acting normal and treating her with care.
Just as he was busy patting himself on the back, a noise outside caught his attention.
He stepped outside and spotted three dwarves.
But these weren't like the ones from the fantasy stories he remembered. They stood about three feet tall, built like tanks, and carried massive axes like they weighed nothing.
"Hey, you!" one of them barked, sounding like a street thug. "Who gave you permission to build this place on our turf without telling us? "
For now, Luck called this one Red. He wore crimson mining clothes with straps over his shoulders—kind of like that famous game character who's always jumping around.
"Oh, so you own this forest?" he inquired.
"Yeah, fool. This is our place. You'd better show some respect," the green one said, raising his pickaxe threateningly.
Luck raised an eyebrow. Their tone sounded more like thugs than miners.
And why did they look like the type that would gang up on even an invulnerable woman?
No doubt—they fit the part. Maybe this was some twisted, adult version of that familiar story.
Funny how these shady productions cast hotter leads than billion-dollar studios. How that works? No clue.
"Know your place. Bow your head, idiot!" the red one spat.
Luck stepped forward and jumped off the short stairs.
"This forest isn't yours, and I'll do whatever I want. Get lost before I shove that pickaxe up your asses!"
The green one snarled, tightening his grip on the pickaxe. "You've got a big mouth for a trespasser."
The other dwarves moved, their axes gleaming in the sun light.
"We don't take kindly to threats," the one in red growled, cracking his knuckles.
Luck didn't budge. He cracked his neck and gave a cold smile. "That so? Go ahead and try me. I'm not here to make friends."
But they didn't move.
Instead, the blue one stepped up. "Hey, I saw a hot girl running toward our home yesterday. She wasn't here last night. Did you take her?"
Luck's eyes narrowed. That changed things. This wasn't just about territory anymore.
"And what if I did?" His grip on the bat tightened.
"Hand her over. She was meant to come to our place. We've got plans for her—fun plans. Give her up, and maybe we won't tear you apart."
Luck shook his head, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his face.
[Bonus Mission: Take them down—show anyone who messes with the owner's target they're messing with the wrong guy.]
[Reward: Depends on how hard you hit.]
[Killing them boosts your score. No mercy, no regrets.]
"You hear that bell?" he asked.
The dwarves exchanged confused looks, clearly not getting it.
He raised his bat and dragged a finger across his throat. "That's the sound of your death knocking at the door."