When the plot-skips players into the game world

Aiwass knocked at least five times, but no one ever came to open the door.

It was now half-past one in the afternoon, roughly the time when most people take their siesta.

But according to what the elf passersby said, Aiwass's sister Freya should be on an underworld schedule, waking up at noon.

...She wouldn't have gone right back to sleep for a nap after breakfast, would she?

For a moment, Aiwass felt a stir of concern—

Mainly because he immediately thought about his recent experience of opening his own wardrobe at home to find a fresh corpse inside.

Sherlock, being a renowned detective, didn't actually have some kind of event magnetism... Could he have remotely cursed my half-sister whom I've never met?

They waited at the door for a long time but still no one came to open it. Aiwass conveyed his worries to Sherlock.

Just as they were about to break in, they heard Master Yanis's voice coming from behind:

"Aiwass?"

Turning around, they saw Yanis approaching with a handbag in tow.

She reached out to touch the door, and a handle immediately appeared on it. She opened the door and went inside.

"Freya has not been answering the door..."

Aiwass immediately relayed what had just happened to Yanis and expressed his concern, "She hasn't run into trouble, has she?"

"Oh, no trouble."

Yanis replied, "She must be busy... Never mind that for now."

As they walked in, Yanis came up beside Aiwass.

She placed her hand on the back of Aiwass's head and said through clenched teeth, "You little brat, why didn't you speak up for me before?"

"To be perfectly honest, Master Yanis. I do think that disappearing for over two hundred years is a bit much," Aiwass said seriously. "If things aren't explained properly, a very good friendship might just end—which would be a real shame. It's because our relationship is good that I hope any misunderstandings can be completely cleared up.

"So, what really happened?"

"...Actually, it wasn't two hundred years at first."

Upon hearing this, Yanis's expression also became somewhat unnatural, "Initially, I had agreed to travel for twenty years and then return. It turns out the world was bigger than I thought. What was supposed to be a twenty-year journey around the world ended up taking over eighty years.

"I went back to the Holy Nation once to take some of my teacher's belongings. I thought she had long forgotten about me, considering eighty years is quite a substantial amount of time for an elf. But it turns out she really did wait for me for eighty years..."

At this point, Aiwass understood.

The situation was much simpler than Aiwass had thought.

Yanis must have initially realized that she was sixty years late, so she didn't dare to face her.

An elf's sense of time is roughly five to seven times that of a human.

Even at the highest estimate, this would be equivalent to at least a decade of no contact.

For humans, losing contact with a childhood friend for a decade could indeed result in forgetting about them, or at least in the feelings fading quite a bit. Naturally, any promises or oaths made back then wouldn't count for much.

But what Yanis hadn't anticipated was that after eighty years, Grey still waited for her—it was less like being separated from a friend for a decade and more like having run away from home for a decade, with your parents still looking for you.

This excessively heavy emotional weight scared Yanis away. What followed was a vicious cycle... The longer the delay, the less she dared to return.

"...What can I say."

Aiwass also sighed.

After some thought, he said, "I think you still need to formally apologize to Miss Grey."

"But I'm not really suitable for staying in the Holy Nation anymore."

Master Yanis gave a wry smile and said, "It's fine to come back occasionally, but if I stay too long, I'm afraid I'll Amberficate on the spot. Over these two hundred years, I've grown accustomed to living among the Short-Lived Species... Oh, I'm not cursing at you. I'm just describing those races whose lifespans are shorter than elves."

"Can you imagine, Aiwass? In the Holy Nation, it's normal for something to be delayed for three or four months. I know a writer, she doesn't have much work to do because of personal reasons. That is to say, she's essentially a full-time writer like on the human side."

"After she finished a book, she said she wanted to take a break before starting a new one... That break lasted eighteen years."

"I thought something had happened to her. I happened to be visiting the Holy Nation recently and stopped by to see her. In fact, many of her readers also thought she had quietly passed away or Amberficated... because her novels and poetry are filled with the aura of death."

At this point, Aiwass suddenly thought of Gloria Lantana.

Could the friend Yanis mentioned be her?

But then Yanis's next words dispelled the doubts in Aiwass's mind, "When I came back recently and checked on her, I found out she just lacked motivation. Her health is as bad as ever, but she has no intention of dying."

"Over the years, she wasn't completely idle either; she wrote a cabinet full of essays. But not a single one had an ending."

"She told me that although her health isn't good, she likely won't have any accidents in the short term... You should know about elven diseases, right?"

"Treeification and Amberfication... right?" Aiwass murmured softly.

"Exactly. She's an Amberficate patient, but she is proactive in seeking treatment and doesn't want to just die off. Every day she feels bored and wants to do something."

"So she took it upon herself to learn about gemology. She even joked with me that if one of her arms or legs fully Amberficated, she'd cut it off and make it into jewelry for us, entirely handmade. I told her that if that ever happened, I'd come and design it for her personally."

"She's been slightly more inclined to start a new book lately, and began reading newspapers from various countries for inspiration. She also heard about you, Aiwass, and mentioned that she finds you handsome. She might base the protagonist of her new book on you. She asked me a lot about your deeds."

As Yanis spoke, he smiled and patted Aiwass on the shoulder, "Though I still think you'd make a better villain. I suggested to her that you could be the villain and Sherlock could be the detective protagonist... I don't know if she accepted the idea."

"It doesn't matter to me whether I'm the villain or not."

Aiwass smiled, "Actually, I think the villain is a bit more handsome."

In his heart, the image of a smiling little girl began to take shape.

Suffering from a terminal illness yet positive and full of life. Just by listening to Yanis's words, Aiwass could almost see those shining eyes.

Although she too was a writer with Amberficate, she was clearly different from Gloria.

After all, in the Holy Nation, the prevalence of Amberficate was quite high. It's said that a thousand years ago, Treeification was more common, but over the years, as the elven bloodline became more diluted and degraded, the incidence of Treeification significantly decreased; however, the rate of Amberficate increased.

When everyone's life was slow-paced, there weren't so many cases of Amberfication. But as the rhythm of life among the Short-Lived Species sped up, and entertainment and production diversified, elves, who would otherwise be unaffected, also seemed to be infected with restlessness.

Therefore, among the elves, there were a few extremists who believed in complete isolation from the Short-Lived Species.

Aiwass turned around and smiled at Sherlock, "Hey, they're saying you should be the protagonist."

"—Whatever."

Walking at the rear, Sherlock let out a light scoff, "I just hope she doesn't sacrifice the rigorous nature of detective work for dramatic effect in her stories. It's hard to expect her to understand logic, and the news in the papers isn't always objective and fair. She's just imagining and writing based on newspapers; it's too easy to lack real-life experience."

"Don't underestimate her too much."

Yanis defended her friend, "Gloria is a writer of the highest caliber, a world-renowned literary giant. She won't make such simple mistakes. You're really going to be famous this time, Sherlock—if she accepts my suggestion."

"—Wait a minute."

Sherlock became serious, "What did you say her name was? Her full name?"

"Gloria. Gloria Lantana... Elves take their full names either from their parents or their teachers. She's from the latter group."

Yanis said nonchalantly.

She quickly realized something, "Is there something wrong with her?"

"She's dead."

Sherlock answered succinctly, "It was suicide."

Yanis's pupils suddenly contracted.