1% Lifesteal

Should he just leave the apartment? He was completely naked, and his clothes were in the room, in the closet, conveniently right next to the naked woman sleeping in his bed.

Lovely.

Since leaving was impossible, that begged the question—what the heck should he do? Should he wake her up? But if he did so while being completely naked, that probably wouldn't go so well. So should he put his clothes on? He would probably wake her up by doing that.

That only left him with a single possibility—silently crawl back into bed and pretend that he was asleep. Every single muscle in his body protested the action as he opened the door and carefully snuck his way toward the bed, doing his best to hide his private bits as he hunched over in a highly awkward position.

Then he carefully reached out and grabbed the corner of the sheet as he prepared to lay down.

Then he heard a woman's voice. "What the fuck!?" she screamed as she got up, clearly panicked, and conjured a fireball, preparing to throw it at him.

"Jesus Christ!" he yelled. "Don't throw that thing at me!"

"Oh my god," she said as she extinguished the ball of flame. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, this can't be happening." An expression of abject agony flashed through her face as she turned around, concealing her body. "Please leave the room."

He obliged, as he had no desire to be burned alive. As he left the room and closed the door, he heard the woman audibly cursing as she hurriedly put her clothes on. Eventually, the noises quieted, and he found himself standing in awkward silence. Still butt naked.

He briefly peeked into the bathroom and took out a towel to cover himself. The seconds of waiting soon turned into minutes, and just as he was starting to get tired of standing there and wondering whether she was even planning to leave the room, the door suddenly burst open.

"I'm so sorry," she said, pushing past him with a strained smile. "Please put your clothes on."

As he got dressed and left his room, he was fully prepared to find that she had left the apartment.

Unfortunately, he wasn't that lucky.

The woman was sitting at the small table in the living room, on one of the two chairs. Her face was firmly buried in her hands, and she did not even as much as peek at him as he walked into the room.

So he waited, unsure what to do, as the awkward silence between them continued.

"Hey," she finally called. "You're… Liam, right?" she asked hesitantly, clearly afraid of the answer.

"Yep, that's me," he responded awkwardly.

"Oh god." She released a pained groan of agony as she started crying. "You're just a kid, and I—oh god, what did I do?"

Okay, he thought to himself. That doesn't bode well for my ego.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he interrupted. "I think there's some sort of misunderstanding here because I'm not underage!"

That didn't seem to comfort the woman at all. She continued sobbing, muttering sorrys and apologies for what she had done. Freddy would give literally everything he had to not be in that situation.

Time passed, mostly in silence, occasionally interrupted by the woman sobbing. From what he could barely decipher, the woman seemed to feel incredibly guilty about "using him." Although he was young and relatively inexperienced with interpersonal relationships, he didn't feel terrible about what had happened.

Did he feel ashamed? Everyone probably would in those particular circumstances, but did he feel used? Hell no. In fact, he didn't even feel particularly guilty about what happened. While, emotionally speaking, it wasn't that straightforward, it was true that the woman was technically divorced. It wasn't like he bagged some guy's wife or anything. Technically.

As he awkwardly stood to the side, the last night's events slowly returned to him, one cringy piece at a time. It all started when he, Lance, and Robert started drinking. Those two old bastards quickly plummeted from semi-respectable individuals to two horny old men in his eyes. They wantonly called everyone around them, inviting young girls with some of the cheesiest, grossest one-liners he had ever heard in his life.

He started the night rather heavy on the booze to drown the shame he felt and mute the cringe he was experiencing. The worst, most embarrassing part of the whole situation was that some girls actually came over. And he thought he lacked self-respect.

At some point, right about the time his memory started becoming patchy, Beatrice and Petra materialized out of nowhere. Apparently, they had stumbled upon the three men by accident. Petra had taken the initiative to take Beatrice out to help her forget about the day's events. Honestly, a surprisingly irresponsible move from a woman who put such emphasis on caution.

Apparently, the divorce was a hundred percent Theodore's fault. The others had no clue what had happened, but apparently, he had made a rather big decision without Beatrice's input. When she confronted him about it, he got super defensive, telling her to fuck off. The whole situation spiraled out of control, and Theodore eventually said that they clearly weren't made for one another and cut things off.

The first half of the night was spent with them comforting her while she cried her eyes out, while the second half of the night was utterly dark in his memory.

As the awkward silence continued, he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall; it was already past 2:00 p.m. Frankly, he had no plans for that day other than just resting or doing something for himself, as he had been working pretty damn hard for a while already. Now, it was only a question of what exactly he would do with this whole situation.

"Hey," he called awkwardly, trying to think of what to say. "Don't take this the wrong way; it's not like I'm chasing you out or anything. It's just, you know, do you really want to be here, and—"

"I'm sorry, but, uh," she interrupted him, "can I please stay here for just a bit?"

At that moment, he really wanted to say "hell no" and chase her out, but he decided to at least ask, "Uhm… can you tell me why… exactly?"

"Well," she said, taking a moment to sigh, "I was supposed to be staying at Petra's place because, you know, Theodore kind of kicked me out, and I… I don't know, I just… I'm afraid that he will come over looking for me. I don't wanna see him."

He had to hold himself back from asking why that was his problem, but he shut his mouth. He was no sociopath, and he wouldn't kick the girl out if she wanted to hide there for the day. Besides, this whole situation was partially his fault.

There was just one tiny problem, however. "Wouldn't you… uh… Wouldn't you prefer to stay at a hotel instead?"

"I lost my wallet," she said.

He winced. "If you want, I can, uh… I can lend you some money?"

She briefly glanced at him with red eyes and then looked away again, guilt and shame playing on her face.

"I, uh… Look—we can both agree that this is pretty damn awkward. Like I'll just… I'll give you the money; you don't even have to pay me back."

She chuckled at that a bit. "So you want me out?"

He cringed at that. "No, it's not… Come on, don't do that to me. We both know that this is not going to turn into anything, and, uh…" He aggressively scratched the back of his head as he searched for words.

"I get it. Thanks," she eked out. "Just give me a bit and I'll go."

"Yeah… I uh… Sorry. Again, please don't take this the wrong way."

"It's fine."

It felt like every single word that left his mouth made the situation worse, so instead of continuing to ramble, he sat on the small couch on the other side of the room and remained quiet.

He tapped his fingers as he desperately tried pretending like he was thinking about something important. He'd kill for a newspaper to at least pretend like he was reading something. Or a book.

Frankly, it almost seemed like the woman wanted to stay there. Or was she just afraid of leaving? Freddy did live pretty close to the hub, and there was a good chance that she would stumble upon Theodore somewhere outside.

A few times, he inadvertently glanced at the woman. Her profile was turned to him, and she was staring at the wall with her head slightly turned away from him.

Fuck, she is so damn hot. His mind betrayed him as the thought came uninvited.

If he was being entirely honest, he had… noticed the woman throughout his time working with their party. Well, he had also noticed Petra, but… well… taken women and all that. He wasn't a degenerate, nor did he fancy adultery. Hell, until yesterday, he had been a virgin.

A very shameful thought crossed his mind. There was the whole thing that… well… a lot had happened, and he had no memory of it

It was a stupid thought.

This is absolutely not the time to make a move, Fred. Calm the fuck down, he chastised himself.

That begged yet another in a series of complicated questions—what should he do now? She said she'd leave in a bit, but the situation was becoming more awkward by the second. While he could just sit and wait, he wanted to… help… maybe?

Although he seemed to be good enough for the other thing, he definitely wasn't a decent shoulder to cry on. What was he supposed to do—advise her? He didn't even know how to talk to a waiter properly, let alone what to say in a situation like this.

Suddenly, he heard a knocking coming from the door. Both he and the disheveled woman glanced at the small hallway leading to the entrance, then at each other. It was at this moment that he remembered—or rather, didn't remember—how exactly he and the woman made their way back to the apartment.

Did the others know where they went? Did somebody see them coming there?

He glanced at her, and all she did was shrug anxiously, as she seemed to have no idea either.

Suddenly, he remembered that it was most likely the landlord. They had set up automatic rent payments through the bank, but there might have been a problem, and he might have come here to check things out to ensure everything was okay.

He walked out of the small living room into the even tinier hallway, closing the door behind him to give the woman some privacy and to give himself some, too, just in case whatever happened was in any way embarrassing. When he semi-confidently walked over to the door, he peeked through the peephole and took a look.

"Oh, fuck my life." He exhaled. There was a brunet, sharp man with several scars along his face standing right outside the door.

It was Theodore.

How the hell did the man even know where he lived?

Did he come here to kill me?

There was no way Freddy would open that door—was what he thought, but then Theodore started knocking louder and was about to yell. Just as the man opened his mouth, he quickly opened the door, walked outside, and closed it behind them. Frankly, he was geared for a fight; it seemed like this would probably turn into something nasty—or so he had presumed.

But the man didn't seem angry; if anything, he only seemed vaguely surprised at the somewhat aggressive exit from the apartment.

"Hey there," the man cautiously greeted him. "You're, uh… Liam, right?"

"Yeah… That's uh… That's me. I'm the… Yeah. Mhm." He nodded as casually as he could manage.

"Oh, well, phew," the man said as he wiped his forehead in a mock gesture, imitating wiping sweat off. "For a second, I thought I got the wrong guy."

"How did you know where I live?" he asked hesitantly, fully expecting the man to say something like "Robert told me" or "Lance told me" or "Petra told me."

But no.

"To be honest," the man started his explanation, "I already knew who you were for a while. You know, my whole job is to be observant, and I walk around a lot. I saw you a few times in the neighborhood, and, you know, tall guy, similar build, no visible aura coming from my talent. It was pretty obvious, actually. I just had to put two and two together.

"I saw you walking into this building once, and I asked the landlord, 'Is there a Liam living here?' and yeah, ever since, I've known where you live. I'm sorry; that is, you know, pretty intrusive, but it was, well, yeah."

"Uh huh… okay," he said slowly, beginning to suspect that the man had no clue that Beatrice was in his apartment. Another thing he noticed was that, when he first met him, the man had been at the peak of the first star.

Freddy could tell this because it was challenging for someone from a lower rank to hide their progress from someone of a higher rank. Back then, he could tell how powerful he was. But now he couldn't. This could only mean two things: either the man had acquired some sort of treasure to help hide his power, or he had ascended a star.

Which begged yet another in an excruciatingly long series of increasingly complex questions—if he wasn't here to get his ex-wife, what the hell was he doing here!?

So he asked, "Can you tell me what this is about?" He tried being polite, but he was clearly on edge.

Although this situation was quite a bit better than the man walking in here with a knife, prepared to stab him to death, it was still really freaking weird why he had tracked him like that.

"I'm here to give you another offer," the man said.

Freddy was about to reject it, expecting another shady deal about a party or something.

But the man raised his hand and interrupted him before he could. "This time," Theodore said, "I'm not the one making the offer." Then he handed him a letter of invitation.

Freddy cracked it open, checking its contents. It was yet another offer to join a party, but this was different.

The man hadn't been lying; this offer wasn't from him. It wasn't even an offer to join a party outright; it was an offer to participate in an interview-slash-evaluation.

Even then, he wasn't particularly willing to accept the offer.

Not only was he not interested in working with others, but he was also particularly reluctant to work with this man who had been shady from the start.

Since Theodore had told the others that he would be going on a prolonged indefinite break, he was looking a lot more suspicious suddenly showing up at his door holding something like this.

But the man could sense his intent to refuse, already getting quite a bit of practice receiving refusals, and yet again interrupted him. "You won't be able to continue delving like this."

"What?" Freddy exclaimed. "Why?"

"You're incredibly talented and extremely overqualified for this realm," the man clarified. "Do you think that the owner is going to allow you to exterminate the entire population of gorels?"

Now that made him seriously angry.

Yet again, Theodore spotted this and cut in. "If you're worried about a cut in income, don't be. If you can pass this interview, anything you could earn delving like this will pale in comparison. You don't have to give me an answer immediately, but do know that if you continue hunting like this, the owner will intervene, and you will either have to limit your hunting or move to a more difficult realm in the hub. The interview is in a week, so you still have some time. Take a while to think about it." And with those parting words, the man turned around and left.

He closed the door, turned around, and whispered under his breath, "Yeah, screw that."

The reason why he didn't want to work with others wasn't entirely arbitrary. He had secrets to hide, and shady situations like these were ones he wanted to avoid at all costs. The only thing he would think about in the next week was how to prevent the owner from limiting his income.

He walked back inside, went to his room, and hid the invitation letter. The woman didn't ask him about who it was, and she clearly hadn't figured out that it was her ex-husband.

Although the distraction made him forget for a moment, he was still stuck in an incredibly awkward situation.

Sighing and taking a moment to calm himself, he sat back down on the couch.

Minutes passed.

After a while, he started getting frustrated.

What was she waiting for? Divine intervention?

Now that he thought about it, there was no way in hell that her fear of running into Theodore could possibly outweigh the unbelievably awkward atmosphere.

Could she just be paralyzed due to all that happened?

While he hesitated to say anything, the clock was ticking. If he wanted to make anything of his day off, he had to chase her out. But how the hell was he supposed to do that?

As the silence finally stretched for a bit too long, he decided to just be upfront. "Hey uh… Beatrice?"

"Hmmm?" she hummed as she turned to face him.

"Look, uhm… I'll be honest with you; I would like you to leave."

She looked surprised for a moment, but he didn't give her the time to react. "I don't know what's keeping you here, but this is getting more than a little awkward." He got up, pulled out a couple hundred dollars from his wallet, and put the money on the table before her. "Take that and pay for a hotel room."

The woman scowled at the money, then glanced up at him. She turned her face away in disgust and got up. "Sorry for bothering you," she said, leaving the cash on the table and rushing toward the exit.

Freddy's mouth opened, but he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

He simply watched in a stunned silence as the woman marched out of the apartment, leaving him in a deathly silence.

Absolutely bewildered, he scowled at the door for a long minute. "What?" he spat.

"What the hell did I do wrong?"

***

Theodore made his way home, still feeling somewhat distressed. Liam was a monster. Once he had gone up to the second star, he had been confident that his talent's evolution would finally let him peer through Liam's aura. But it didn't.

However, his talent had changed in more ways than just becoming more powerful and capable of detecting presences. Now, whenever he stared at the surface of a creature's body, even if he couldn't see their aura, he could sense weak points, seeing them as glowing spots on the body. The brighter those spots were, the greater the weak point was.

This time, it wasn't the case of talent negation; his talent still clearly worked on the man, but the man looked dim. Barring the obvious, such as significant arteries and eyes, the man seemingly had no weak points on his entire body.

"So he wasn't lying about the Hundred Wet Hells, either, huh?" he mused.

Judging by the man's behavior, Theodore presumed that Liam would likely refuse to show up.

"Oh well…" he said, sighing. "I'll have to ask Jacob to send someone else."