“No. I am not dancing. Especially not to Blackpink.” Jess snapped as she climbed into the passenger seat of the Grave Digger and slammed the door. Then she looked at me through the window like I had personally offended her. “How do you even know so much about Blackpink anyway?”

  I had spent the entire walk back to the parking garage explaining the notification I got when I used [Deadeye Scope] on the object. Over and over again.

  At least the Bard Guild part was done.

  Farisyah’s test had not turned out to be anything sinister. Armand had removed her mouthguard and ran her through a series of speaking and singing exercises. He was careful about it too. He always positioned her so she was facing him, not us. Like he already knew what she could do and did not want any accidents.

  Either he had some kind of immunity to whatever Farisyah’s voice could do, or he had a shield up that we could not see. Maybe both. The point was, he was fine.

  More than fine. He was excited.

  Excited enough that he wanted Farisyah to join immediately. Excited enough that he offered to train her personally, and even provide lodgings for both Farisyah and Farah. They hesitated only slightly before agreeing.

  And just like that, our unofficial escort quest was done.

  Then we were unceremoniously ushered out of the guild and back onto the street.

  Which was how I ended up repeating, again, that we could not get the lightstick. Item eighteen. Not unless we did a dance recital.

  A dance recital worthy of Blackpink.

  How the hell that was even going to be judged, I had no idea.

  Shawn was silently sniggering in the driver’s seat until Jess smacked him in the arm. That did it. He finally broke and started laughing properly.

  Siva just scowled at me from the back seat while I swung a leg over the Phantom.

  “Look, we’ll figure it out, alright. We’ll… I don’t know. Think of some small dance we can do.” I raised my voice over Shawn’s laughter, mostly aimed at Jess.

  “Chris. Serious question.” Shawn managed to stop laughing long enough to look me in the eye. His face went completely straight.

  “Yeah?” I said, and felt worry start crawling up the back of my neck.

  “Are you secretly a Blackpink superfan?”

  Then he burst out laughing again.

  I groaned, shook my head, and gunned the throttle, riding toward the exit. I could still hear them laughing behind me, muffled by the engines. And yeah, I saw the funny side too.

  Me. In my Mr. Big tee shirt. Chain-smoking, forty-five-year-old dadbod. Secretly a Blink.

  But hey. They really were that good.

  I activated [Pathfinder] and keyed in Monica’s address. At the toll booth, the gremlin took my parking ticket like it was a normal Tuesday, then raised the barrier without even looking up.

  The Grave Digger rolled right behind me as we drove out onto the main street. We took a nearly hidden exit that spat us back onto the highway we had used to enter the South in the first place.

  And the deeper we rode, the more The Bay peeled away behind us. The bright lights. The neon signs. The noise.

  Gone.

  In their place were housing estates and long, quiet stretches of road, with the occasional industrial building squatting in the distance. It felt almost… familiar.

  I had not really travelled to the south of Singapore much. There usually was not much reason to, unless you were visiting family or friends.

  Other than… Sentosa.

  That thought landed and would not let go.

  Sentosa was an island off Singapore’s main island. It had old World War II bunkers, sure, but to most people it was the resort island. Sentosa was the tourist brochure version of Singapore, the kind of place families and tourists flocked to for Universal Studios, the world-class aquarium, the wax museum, and beaches that were somehow always crowded, with overpriced food and beach parties that lasted until the last train.

  I pinged the team in chat.

  Chris: We’re taking a detour. We’ve got time.

  Siva: Where are we going?

  Chris: Sentosa.

  Shawn: Don’t think Blackpink’s performing there, Chris.

  Jess: Shut up, Shawn. Why?

  Chris: I want to check something out.

  We rode past the massive VivoCity shopping center and onto the on-ramp, one of the two ways you could normally get to the island.

  And we stopped.

  A translucent barrier sat across the road like a wall of glass.

  I eased the Phantom to a halt and got off. For a moment, I just stared at it, waiting for the usual System prompt, or a notification, or anything that explained why a major road was suddenly a dead end.

  Nothing happened.

  So I walked instead, heading along the pedestrian path that ran beside VivoCity, following the rail until it opened up to the sea.

  I looked out across the water.

  The others caught up behind me one by one and fell quiet as they saw it.

  I kept staring.

  “This looks familiar, guys?” I asked.

  Siva exhaled through his nose. “Yup. Same like when we were back at Woodlands Waterfront.”

  All the earlier jokes got wiped clean away as we stood at the water’s edge, peering across at what should have been there.

  We should have been able to see the roller coasters from Universal Studios. The outline of hotels. The cable car line cutting across the sky.

  All we saw now was fog.

  Not mist. Not morning haze. A thick, blank layer sitting over the surface like someone had poured milk into the air. It swallowed the horizon and erased the island completely.

  “That… doesn’t make sense.” Jess murmured, still staring out at the blank sheet of fog. “That island holds the southernmost point of continental Southeast Asia.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “And we’re in the South,” Shawn added quietly.

  Something was off. We were being blocked from heading to the island, and the System was not even bothering to explain why.

  In the back of my mind, a familiar voice surfaced, the kind that always came with a smirk.

  You’ll have to find me first…

  The GM’s voice.

  A cold little prickle ran up my arms. I suddenly did not feel like lingering by the water anymore.

  I turned back toward the bike.

  The team followed, slower than me. I could tell Jess wanted to talk it through, to pick at the logic until it made sense. I raised a hand, palm out, and she stopped.

  I did not feel safe talking about it. Not now. Not here.

  We rode the rest of the way to Monica’s place in silence.

  The questions kept sprinting around my head anyway.

  Could it be? Could the System be based on Sentosa?

  It did not make sense. Sentosa was supposed to be fun and games. Tourists. Attractions. Resorts. Some high-end homes that only the super rich could afford.

  But then again… why not?

  Why not hide the heart of the whole thing in the one place nobody would suspect?

  I was still stuck on that thought when we finally rolled into Pasir Panjang and turned into a quiet residential stretch tucked away from the main road.

  Monica’s house was a duplex, neat and well-kept, flanked by other duplex houses that looked similar enough to pass for a normal estate at a glance.

  If you ignored the neighbors.

  As we rode up, we saw creatures doing painfully mundane things.

  An elf was tending to his garden with a small pair of shears, humming to himself like he had been doing it every weekend for years. Down the row, a dwarf who looked barely old enough to be out of school was in his front yard, taking shots at a basketball hoop that had been bolted to the awning.

  The cheap kind you bought from Toys ‘R’ Us.

  He missed again, muttered something under his breath, and jogged after the ball.

  Yeah. Not exactly the sport built for you, kid.

  The thought came automatically, and a second later I felt that familiar little shiver. My brain really had started filing “dwarves playing basketball in Pasir Panjang” under normal.

  The front gate slid open as we approached. Monica stepped out just as it did, like she had been watching from the window.

  She waved, cheerful as ever.

  In the small courtyard, a compact Volkswagen Beetle was parked neatly near the front door. Somehow there was still enough space for the Grave Digger and my bike, which felt like a miracle considering most landed houses in Singapore were not designed for multiple vehicles. Unless you were very rich.

  Shawn rolled in first, careful and slow, like he was afraid the neighbors would complain.

  Monica walked down the path to meet us, wearing a simple dress and a light cardigan. She looked more “girl-next-door” than “elf waitress,” except she was still an elf and the hem of her dress sat just a little higher than it needed to. Not scandalous. Just distracting in a way that made the guys suddenly very interested in the sky.

  “Welcome,” she said warmly. “You made it.”

  Jess got out of the truck and immediately took point, most likely remembering the guys turned to butter in Monica’s presence.

  “Thanks for offering,” she said. “We just want to see the place first.”

  “Of course,” Monica replied cheerfully “Come. Let me show you.”

  She led us inside.

  The ground floor was modest by landed-house standards. A small living room, a dining area, and a kitchen that looked functional and lived-in. The house smelled clean, faintly floral, and vaguely like something was already simmering somewhere in the back.

  A short corridor led to a compact bedroom downstairs. The bed was neatly made, and there were small personal touches that made it obvious someone actually slept there.

  Monica caught my glance and smiled. “That is my room,” she said lightly. “I prefer to stay downstairs.”

  I nodded and filed it away.

  There were framed photos on one wall too, but when I tried to focus on the faces my eyes slid off the details in a way that made me suspect they were more decoration than memory.

  Then she took us upstairs.

  The second floor opened into a small living area, like a family lounge. A couch. A low table. A bookshelf that looked suspiciously curated. Off that space were three bedrooms, all decent sized, all furnished, and all far cleaner than any place had a right to be.

  Monica turned back to us, hands clasped lightly. “So. What do you think?”

  “It’s good,” I said honestly, because it was. It was quiet. It had doors. It had walls. It was not trying to kill us.

  Jess took a slow look around, checking corners and sightlines the way she always did, but her voice stayed polite when she asked, “Okay. How much are you thinking?”

  Monica said it like she had rehearsed it. “One thousand gold a week.”

  Siva made a sound like he had swallowed his tongue. Shawn actually laughed once, a short burst, then caught himself when Monica looked at him.

  Jess did not snap. She just smiled slightly, like she was letting Monica save face before she countered.

  “That’s a little steep,” Jess said. “We’re not looking for hotel pricing. We’re also not here to take advantage of you. We just need something stable.”

  Monica blinked, then laughed softly. “You are all very direct.”

  Jess nodded. “It is a survival habit.”

  Monica tried to hold the line. Jess stayed friendly and kept pushing anyway, calm and steady. I could tell Monica was used to people folding the moment she looked at them.

  Jess did not fold. She just kept the conversation warm while tightening the terms.

  Eventually, Monica exhaled in a dramatic little sigh and shook her head like we were all making her life very difficult.

  “Fine,” she said. “Six hundred. Per week.”

  Jess’s smile widened a fraction. “That’s fair.”

  “And deposit?” Monica asked.

  “One week,” Jess replied. “Six hundred.”

  Monica paused, then nodded. “Deal.”

  She looked genuinely pleased after that, and maybe a little surprised too. Like she had expected us to either be pushovers or monsters, and we had landed somewhere conveniently in the middle.

  Then her gaze flicked behind us, toward the staircase.

  “And your luggage?” she asked, looking around like the bags were about to materialize.

  Shawn brightened immediately, like he had been waiting for this moment. “Oh, we have inventory.”

  Monica blinked. “Inventory.”

  I could almost see her trying to place it. “Like… a bag?”

  “Like a pocket dimension,” Shawn said, far too happily.

  Monica stared at him for a second. Then she looked at Jess. Then at me. Then back at Shawn.

  “That is…” she started, stopped, and smiled again. “Convenient.”

  “That’s one word for it,” Jess said.

  Monica showed us the rooms and left us to settle in.

  It happened fast, almost automatically. Jess took one bedroom without discussion. Shawn and Siva ended up bunking together in another room, mostly because they were both too lazy to fight for the last one and because Shawn insisted it would be “like the old days,” whatever that meant.

  That left me with the third room.

  I shut the door behind me and stood still for a moment, just listening. No vendors shouting. No neon jingle drilling into my skull. No strangers pressed too close.

  Just quiet.

  I unpacked nothing because there was nothing to unpack. I dumped my invisibility trenchcoat on the bed anyway, because it felt correct, then went back out.

  A few minutes later, we reconvened in the upstairs living area. Shawn had already claimed the couch like he owned it. Siva was poking at a decorative plant like he expected it to bite him. Jess stood by the window, arms folded, watching the street below with the same expression she wore when she was trying not to look relieved.

  I pulled up the scavenger hunt folder in my HUD.

  “Alright,” I said. “We should go through the list. All twenty. We need to—”

  “Dinner will be ready soon,” Monica called from downstairs, bright and casual, like she was announcing a normal household routine. “You can talk after you eat. You all look like you need food.”

  We all paused.

  Because the word dinner hit different when you had spent weeks eating whatever you could loot, ration, or buy off an interface.

  Shawn sat up and spoke aloud. “Dinner?”

  “Yes,” Monica replied from downstairs. “I cook. It is nothing fancy. But it is warm.”

  Jess glanced at the rest of us, then gave a small nod. “Alright. Dinner first.”

  Siva leaned forward like he could smell it already. “Whatever it is, it smells… really good.”

  Monica’s voice came up the stairs, pleased. “Good. Then you’ll survive my cooking.”

  I minimised the scavenger hunt folder again. It kept pulsing softly in the corner of my vision, but for once, I let it wait.

  Then we followed the smell downstairs.

  Shawn was first, obviously. Siva was right behind him.

  Jess let us go ahead, then fell in behind me and murmured, just loud enough for me to hear, “If dinner is good, we will call this a win.”

  I could not help it. I smiled.

  For once, we were walking toward something warm.