A safety clipper clicked, and my capsule swung open as I blinked my eyes awake. My head throbbed with phantom pain, and my shallow breaths were the only sign of life. What the hell? I y there for a few minutes, fog on eahale, trying to steady my rag thoughts. Damon. That stupid, damnable Damon.

  g my fists, I rose unsteadily and climbed out, my eyes darting to the arm clock: 12 o’clooon. Great.

  “Tin-! I log ba?” I asked, my voice trembling. My fists were still ched, shaking untrolbly, and when I tried to take a step, my legs buckled. “What?!” A surge of anger boiled in my chest, but my body refused to cooperate. Overe with nerves, I colpsed onto the floor, lying there as I struggled to calm my senses.

  “ive, Miss Charlie. The game indicates you must wait the full twenty-four hours.”

  Damon. My former friend attacked me, and I owerless to stop it. That reality hit me like another punch. The physical pain was bad enough, but the shock? It gutted me on a level I couldn’t process.

  He probably didn’t know who I was under all this—these boobs—but even then, who just punches someo of nowhere? human being does that. “Call their support line.”

  “Success. You are the ohousand, three hundred seventy-first er in liimated wait time: six hours.”

  “cel that. Keep me posted if the login time ges.” I dragged myself toward the sofa, where I could finally colpse. Reag behind it, I fumbled for a beer and—of course—it was not there. I haven’t replenished my reserves. “Great. This is just great,” I muttered. “I ’t ighese problems anymore, I, Tin-?”

  “Acc to the Ameri Health Association, sulting ynifit other is the first step in addressiional distress.”

  Signifit other, huh? Minor problem: I didn’t have one. Not even beer or whiskey!

  “If I may add,” Tin- tinued, “your emotions may be unstable due to your transformation and the influence of new hormones.”

  That… might expin it. But still—“Stupid Damon!” I screamed, my voice crag as I hurled the empty bottle at the capsule. It hit with a loud bang, shards scattering across the floor. “Call Lucas.”

  “eg… Lucas’ home system indicates he is unavaible.”

  “Call…” My voice trailed off. Why did I even want to talk to someone? Why the sudden urge to rant about Damon’s unfairness, to scream about wanting to slice his head off?

  There was no one else to call. With a resigned sigh, I turned on Katherine’s stream.

  The feed showed a beautiful Elven girl in revealing armhting a swarm of ies in a flower-filled meadow. She danced around them with the crude—meaning ent—precision of Imperial fighting style, jabbing at their stingers with her longsword while shielding herself like a newbie, who she was.

  Sadly, no chatting today, I realized. The stream was an hour behind the live game, as per instrus.

  As I watched Katherine carve her way through the buzzing field, aruck me. There’s a VIP line for the game. It wasn’t on the tact page—hidden somewhere on the 72nd page of their terms and ditions, worded so poorly that even AI struggled to parse it.

  Maybe they could help. Maybe they’d know how to stop my hands from shaking—or at least how to fast-track my login.

  With renewed determination, I grabbed my phone and dialed the number.

  VIP? More like WTF. I’d been on hold for over half an hour before a girl’s voice finally greeted me.

  “Hello, my name is Cire. How may I help you?”

  “Hello. My name is Charlie, and during my game, I got glitched because my name was the same as my titur title, Princess. A debug session was initiated to clear the problem, and I provided aification code for your employee, Damon. He… killed me after a brief versation. I just want to finish my debug session,” I said, my tone almost robotic.

  It wasn’t like I could just say, Hey, me ded, help. I o sound professional—something like when I reported exploits.

  There was silence for a moment, just the sound of keys clig oher end. Then, Cire replied, “I’ve logged your request, Charlie. Rimelion thanks you for using our distress line. Have a nice day.”

  “What?” I bli my phounned. “That’s it?”

  My barely simmering anger fred again, hot and ing. Why did I try that stupid title? Now I couldn’t help Lisa, couldn’t chat with Katherine, couldn’t progress in the main story. I was stuck at home, watg a pretty girl kill s.

  As I gred at the s, Katherine finished off the st ie with a flourish. Tin-’s sudden voice shattered my focus. “Miss Charlie, thank you for trustih access.”

  “You’re wele,” I replied automatically, my mind still lingering on the s. Then it hit me. “Wait—why are you saying that now?”

  “My calcutions indicate you are not engaged in an activity requiring your full attention.”

  A nervous ugh escaped me as I ran my hands through my hair, the absurdity of my situation finally catg up. “Yeah, well… I guess you’re right. You could probably get my body back faster than Damon.”

  “You don’t need me,” Tin- replied, its voice steady and almost soothing. “But I appreciate your reasoning, Miss Charlie. I am not human anymore, but I want to offer you a partnership. Together, we are stronger.”

  Who to trust? Damon? Ha! If nothing else, Tin- was brutally ho—and way more helpful.

  “We are, aren’t we?” I said, leaning bato the couch. “To fight robots, you need a robot.”

  Rimelion finally respoo my pint after an hour. Cire, sounding even more lifeless than my capsule, suggested I return to the game.

  When I logged ba, the first thing I noticed was the same oppressive nothingness. A painful memory of Damon’s attack cwed at my mind, and I flinched violently, squeezing my eyes shut to banish it.

  “Princess, since your first report, I’ve always wao meet the woman behind the avatar,” a voice said. It wasn’t Damon. “We call you The Exploiter, y’know.”

  I opened my eyes to see the owner of the voice—a tall man in a white jacket, casually perched on a sleek motorcycle. Blinking a few times, I stared at him, my mouth ajar. “What?”

  “Rex,” he said with a disarming grin, jumping off the bike with effortless grace. “I’m here to fix Damon’s mess, not scare you.” He extended a hand toward me.

  Despite fag tless attacks in the game, my body betrayed me again. I instinctively backpedaled, recoiling from his outstretched palm like it was a on. The man chuckled nervously, running his hand through his hair. “Hey, o panic. I don’t know what Damon did, but he’s not evil. My ravis. What’s yours?”

  John! You’re a warrior. You’re strong. What would Dhan, the northern queror, say if he saw you c like this? Pathetic. You ’t talk, and Damon’s attack left a scar? Wake up!

  Lost in my internal monologue, I barely registered Travis still standing there. With a sigh, I said, “I’m sorry. It dazed me. I didn’t expect Damon to just… kill me.”

  “About that…” Travis waved his hand, making the motorcycle vanish into thin air. “Damon’s my colleague, and something about your story doesn’t add up. He says you did it to yourself. Apparently, whehreateo delete your at for exploiting, you… ended yourself.”

  I stared at him, my arms crossing defensively. “I did what?”

  “Framing him aing away? That sounds oddly familiar,” he said, his tone casual but with an edge. “So—”

  “Shut up, you stupid moron!” I snapped, my voice rising as I shook off the shock. “Damon was my friend! I was so shaken when he—”

  “Hah! Caught you lying!” Travis interrupted with a triumphant grin, winking at me. “You met him for the first time just a few days ago. In a pub. Fishing for targets, were you?”

  He was there? Another bnk stare. Gettier at this.

  “Sorry, bitch, but I won’t let you take Damon down.” His smile was venomous as he pressed something on a virtual keyboard.

  [Attention! Initiating ban…]“You won’t?” I fshed him a deep grin. “Okay, then I’ll do it myself.”

  Requesting firmation. Ban sequen progress… 24%Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I tapped into the game’s weakhis version was full of bugs, ripe for exploitation. “You’re an amateur,” I said with a smirk. “I exploit even the rules. System, trace previous debug ID and show current debug ID.”

  [Debug session #7032#][Debug session #7176#]firmation received. Requesting resources. Ban sequen progress… 36%“Se seventy-nine, requesting emergency assistance of global backup six-one-seven. Admi, requesting review by the localized pahiittee immediately at session seven-one-seven-six.” o call the big guns. Just their boss. o crash the entire game—yet.

  [Resources received. Requesting rollback. Ban sequen progress… 79%][Ethiittee session #1 starting…][Banning sequeopped… 91%]A yellow light fshed, and a red-haired woman materialized, her captivating green eyes dartiween me and Travis. She radiated authority. Before I could greet her, Damon appeared too, his gre sharp with hostility. I ched my fists, willing myself to hold it together.

  “Damon? Travis? What’s going on?” she barked, her voice cutting through the silence. Her threatening gaze made me gulp. “Travis, don’t tell me you tried that.”

  Travis instinctively shielded his crotch, gulping, while Damon just kept gring at me.

  “If I may,” I said, stepping forward despite my poundi. “There was a glitch. Damon killed me during a debug session, and Travis threatened me. System, py the st minute of session sevehree-two for the ittee, just before er Princess died.”

  The woman’s eyes focused on an invisible s. We all watched her as she reviewed the footage, holding our breath.

  When she finally looked up, her gaze pierced through me like a dagger. “Bitch, what do you want?”

  “I did nothing wrong!” Damon shouted, stepping in front of her. “Yes, she has a reality limit of a hundred pert, but she agreed to the ditions!”

  Before she could silence him, I mumbled, “My former friend Damon, acc to your terms and ditions, the agreement only applies to simuted worlds and personal spaces. Debugging sessions legally occur on pany servers using a different engine.”

  “Precisely.” She gestured for him to leave, and he logged out, his face flushed with aravis followed without protest.

  “So?” she said, her tone softer but no less sharp.

  “What do I want?” My voice faltered, the ahat had fueled me moments ago now dissipating. My fingers fidgeted as I whispered, “Nothing. All I want is to py. If you check my logs, you’ll see I wasn’t cheating.”

  She summoned a chair out of thin air and sat gracefully, crossing her legs in the way I’d tried so hard to master. Pulling up an invisible menu, she sed the logs.

  “I see. Except for ohing.” Her expressihtened as she tinued reading. “How did you know the name Duwin Ianlee?”

  Lag the ability to summon a chair myself, I sank to the ground. You could at least offer me one. Or your name…

  “I expin,” I said, f fideo my voice. “In a Elven, ‘Duwin’ trao ‘darkness,’ and ‘Ianlee’ means ‘the death that es to earth and cims lives.’” Not to mention there’s an exploit involving him in God’s domain for unlimited money.

  “Excellent research,” she said, her grin deepening as she fluttered her shes at me. “But that’s not enough to summon him.”

  Damn. She was right. “The God’s Book mentioned you o focus oh and despair.”

  “Yeah, twat, you stop feedihis rubbish.” Her tone was sharp, but she kept typing, occasionally pausing to sigh. “The higher-ups love bullshit like yours, so I ’t ban you. Are you seriously telling me you’ve read all one hundred books and the entire game manual, including every dition?”

  The word yes itched at my tongue, but I held it back. When you exploit, you read everything. You know the system better than anyone.

  Well, almost everything. I’d skipped mious texts—except for those on angels, managers, and magic. They were just walls of nonsense, and as a warrior, I didn’t hem.

  But if the pany only had trol over the e to Rimelion and not the AI itself… Could I bypass that?

  The miicked by as I sat on the ground, waiting for her to speak. She seemed to enjoy the silence, occasionally scratg herself or adjusting her hair, pletely ign me.

  “You’re lucky,” she said at st, dismissing her chair with a wave and strolling toward me, her rosy high heels g against the floor. “They’ve ordered me to ge your o Charlie. You’re a hero and all that bullshit… Tsk-tsk.” She clicked her tongue and pulled up her interface, typing something.

  “Sadly for you,” she added, her grin widening, “they didn’t specify how I should do it.” A chill ran down my spi her tone.

  With a thunderous boom, a human materialized in front of us. He wore pin hunter’s clothes, a bow slung over his back, and his stark white hair made him stand out.

  “Wele, Charlie,” the redhead greeted him, handing him a long dot. “As I told you, you ’t dee.”

  “You serious? Ohousand gold to give up my name? Just like that?” His excitement bubbled over, aually jumped for joy. This guy wouldn’t win any haggling tests.

  Redhead nodded with a satisfied smirk. “I’ve sent a copy to your capsule. In one week’s time, use the scroll, and Princess Charlie will send you the thousand gold.”

  “What?!” I shot to my feet and bolted toward them, desperately trying to stop the transay hand reached for the man’s shoulder, but it passed right through him like he wasn’t even there.

  [Attention! You have a new name: Princess Charlie, baroess (empire)][Attention! A new tract - ohousand gold to pyer Ch4rli33. Time remaining: 6 days 23 hours 59 minutes]Great. A new debt.