◎Honey.◎
No one responded for a long while. In voice chat, Fade asked, “Are you mad?”
Chen Yi hurriedly shook her head. “Nope!”
Her face was still burning hot.
Fade chuckled but didn’t press the age question further. Instead, she just told Chen Yi to keep queuing for dungeons.
Chen Yi had wanted to come clean about her real situation, but Fade changed the subject too quickly. She felt too awkward to chase it down and explain further—it might come off as too forward.
Evening was peak time for players online, so dungeon queues moved faster than during the day.
Chen Yi teamed up with Fade to clear several dungeons, finishing off their daily quests.
Fade’s damage output looked great across all those runs.
“You’re so smart, Fade,” Chen Yi said, not holding back on the praise. “Your progress is insane.”
Fade’s voice always carried a smile—it was comfortable, relaxing.
“Maybe you’re right. I’ve got a natural talent for this,” she replied, echoing what Chen Yi had told her earlier. Fade wasn’t the type to squirm under compliments.
Chen Yi just tsked.
“Wanna try PVP?” Chen Yi asked.
They’d knocked out all the PVE dailies—the dungeon-related ones—but the PVP tasks were still grayed out, the reward chests locked tight.
“PVP?” Fade sounded blank for a second.
Chen Yi patiently explained. Fade finally got it—PVP meant player-versus-player combat.
“Sure,” she agreed readily. “How do we do it?”
Chen Yi said, “First, check if Battlefield Mode is on for you. Down in the bottom left, by the teleport—see a Battlefield option?”
Fade: “Yeah, I do.”
Chen Yi: “Cool, then I’ll just queue us up as a team.”
Fade was eyeing her Battlefield interface too. She sighed. “So many modes.”
“Why are Warband and Faction modes grayed out for me?”
Chen Yi: “You haven’t joined any warband or faction yet, right? No worries—we can still hit Mini Arena or Survival Battlefield. Which one?”
Fade: “Both.”
Chen Yi joked, “You’re like a spy scoping out the game—curious about everything, wanna try it all.”
Fade: “Not allowed?”
Chen Yi laughed. “Allowed? Pfft, play whatever. I’ll duo with you.”
She fired up applications for both Survival and Mini, but Survival Battlefield loaded first.
The mode played like battle royale—eat chicken or bust. For fairness, every player kept only their gear’s looks, no stats. Levels and skills reset to zero.
It tested pure skill: familiarity with weapons and gear, plus tactics.
Solo, Chen Yi could chicken dinner without breaking a sweat. Dragging Fade along? Not so easy. Especially since she’d played up her own newbie act.
Under ten minutes in, Fade got headshot. Chen Yi sniped back for revenge, then “accidentally” peeked half her body and got pushed back.
In voice chat, Fade went dead silent for a good while.
Just as Chen Yi thought she’d disconnected, Fade spoke up firmly: “Again.”
Chen Yi: “Salty?”
Fade: “Yeah.”
Straight-up, she added, “I want first place.”
This big sis has some serious competitive fire, Chen Yi thought. And somehow… she kinda liked it?
She queued another Survival round, debating whether to just stomp some noobs and carry Fade. But right at drop, they ran into last game’s winner.
Chen Yi played support, calling out positions. Fade dropped him in seconds.
Fade, puzzled: “Why’d his skills tank so hard?”
Chen Yi burst out laughing. “Sis, that’s called turning into a potato.”
“Last game, he wasn’t the carry—his teammate was the real pro. No pro this time, so yeah.” Chen Yi had it all figured.
Fade: “Is there even a point in him playing like that?”
Her tone was utterly sincere, but it landed with a hint of mockery.
Chen Yi instantly shelved the carry plan. She stuck by Fade’s side, acting the noob, helping subtly within her “limits.” Still, Fade didn’t snag that first.
“Another?” Chen Yi asked.
Fade: “Nah.”
Calm as ever, she said, “I’d just keep coming up short. Can’t make up for game sense and knowledge overnight. We’ll take it slow.”
Chen Yi’s fingertip rested on her mouse, index finger tapping idly. It clicked crisply against the custom shell. On the screen’s jump menu glow, her stubborn smile reflected back—unwilling to fade.
Tonight’s grin was harder to suppress than an AK recoil.
Fade was fascinating.
She didn’t game like most people.
Games hooked you with thrills—the itch for victory was the cruelest. Some got blinded by spite, kept smashing their head against the wall even when outmatched.
Not Fade.
She gamed with cold reason. Like she wasn’t here to play, wasn’t chasing fun in this wild world. More like she was running some bizarre investigation.
“Sounds good,” Chen Yi said, not hiding her delight. “Next time then.”
Fade, baffled: “What’re you so happy about?”
Chen Yi: “Happy I met you.”
No lie there.
Fade went quiet.
The silence threw Chen Yi off. Was that too much? But she’d only spoken from the heart.
As she stewed internally, Fade said, “Wanna do Mini Arena? I wanna try it.”
Chen Yi answered with action.
She submitted the team queue right away.
By sheer coincidence—or curse—the 2v2 lobby loaded against familiar IDs.
【Scar Mo Li】
【Scar Mo Qi】
These two lovebirds again!
Fade, confused: “Is no one else playing this?”
Chen Yi cracked up yet again.
Since meeting Fade, her laugh threshold felt lower than the Mariana Trench. Fade was dead serious, but Chen Yi always heard innocent sass in it.
Chen Yi played dumb: “Maybe.”
Countdown hit zero. The male character named Mo Qi opened fire on them. Chen Yi slapped shields on her and Fade. Intentionally schooling Fade, she called dodges while coaching skills.
The enemy duo had decent mechanics, but zero brains—no tactics. Chen Yi toyed with them easily.
With defeat locked in, the guy started trash-talking.
Scar Mo Qi: “Improved that fast? Fade, you’re cheating! Hacker bitch!”
Scar Mo Qi: “And that one—the one—”
Chen Yi typed lazily while healing Fade and typing with spare fingers: My ID’s so simple you can’t read it?
Scar Mo Qi raged: “Sister Don’t Hit Me!”
Chen Yi: What “sister”? Who the hell are you to me?
She usually stayed silent in public lobbies to avoid blowing cover. Typing alone was enough to tilt him.
Scar Mo Qi furiously hammered the keys. His partner Scar Mo Li snapped: “Why’re you cursing my husband!”
Scar Mo Qi, touched: “Honey~~”
Click—
On screen, the battle-worn red-clad bombshell stood tall, rifle smoking faintly from the fresh casing.
“Noisy,” Fade said in voice chat.
Chen Yi’s retort wasn’t finished when Fade added: “Your username’s got some charm. So, what should I call you?”
Chen Yi had planned to type: 【Honey, even pancakes don’t call “honey” like you do.】. But her hand slipped—she missed the punctuation and only managed the first two words: Honey.
Fade left the team.
