1,000 Days of Prayer
Desolate Plains. A land littered with countless skeletons. In the center lay a dragon the size of a hill, still steaming with fresh blood, collapsed. Sitting atop its sleek scales were two people.
"Hey."
"What."
A pair of man and woman. The kind of secluded, awkwardly intimate spot that could easily be mistaken for a couple's hideaway.
"Why do you hang around with me?"
"...What the fuck? On your period or something?"
Their back-and-forth was anything but. The crazy bitch asking the guy if he was on his period was Seora. No telling how much cash she'd dumped into the game, but every piece of gear she wore was top-server tier. Selling just one would net over a hundred million won, and who knew how much more she'd sunk into customizations—her slender waist and massive tits were impossible to look away from. Her face? Even as a game character, she had enough fans for a fan club. Sure, it was all bought and paid for, but guys slurped it up like vtuber simps anyway, and their numbers only grew by the day.
Me? I got the golden opportunity to stick by her side from the moment she logged in until she logged out. Wasn't I the lucky bastard? And it wasn't even me begging to duo. She approached me. Pleading to team up. To stay glued to me 24/7.
"'Cause there's no noob as dedicated as you."
"..."
Of course, that was the context. The way she treated me shattered any romantic illusions like a red pill to the face. At first, even I got butterflies around her. So when she "proposed" (not that kind), I clutched my exploding heart, pretended to mull it over seriously, and accepted. I'm a guy too. A 30-year-old virgin NEET gamer with zero dating experience—hell, I was more vulnerable to a beauty's advances than most dudes. Sure, I trash the guys drooling over this vtuber knockoff now, but even in moments like this, my heart skips when I glimpse her cleavage or waist. Just a dumb animal.
"No one's dumped their life into Real World like you, scrounging hidden quests and raising a healer. Gotta hold on tight. Without a healer, this game's for total morons who can't do shit."
"..."
But her psycho personality killed any fluttering feelings dead. The real kicker? I was the only one who knew she was a psycho bitch. To everyone else, she played the innocent, pure image with a sweet smile. She only unleashed this side on me. Had she sniffed out what a gullible loser I was?
"What? Have I been too nice lately?"
Seora furrowed her brow, turning to me. Her occasional bitch-fits were just to keep me from getting ideas, apparently. Hearing her pure, practical reason for needing me cleared my head right up.
"Kinda disappointing. If you were really this good a healer IRL, I'd propose on the spot."
"Crazy bitch."
And yet she flashed a seductive smile, pressing her ass against me. She lifted my chin with her finger, locking eyes and feigning regret like a tease. I knew it was fake. Or... maybe not.
"Game or real life, healers are way too scarce. And one who fits me? Forget about it. Sigh, every rift run makes me wanna quit and stick to gaming."
Healer. Beings who mended wounds and restored HP with supernatural power. In games or hunter novels, they balanced things out. Reality? Not even close. Healers were rarer than rifts. In a world popping out fire-spewing, sky-flying hunters left and right, healers were an ultra-rare awakening—only a tiny fraction got it.
Nobility. People called awakened hunters the new nobility, but they were wrong. Among hunters, the 0.001% chosen as healers? They were the true elite.
That's partly why I picked healer in Real World. A 30-year loser like me awakening as a hunter—let alone healer—was a pipe dream. So I chose it in a game where effort could make it happen.
Even in Real World, healers weren't easy. They were precious here too. Especially a 5-star healer? That was just me in the whole server. So this haughty, rich, gorgeous psycho dragged me around. Her bitching to keep my feelings in check, teasing my heart like crowd control? All business. Nothing more.
"OP heals. OP shields. OP revives. Why else would I duo with you? So if you wanna keep glomping these tits, quit daydreaming and grind my alt when I'm offline."
"Fucking bitch."
"Be grateful you're the only one who gets to curse me out like that."
What a bitch. But I couldn't leave. That pissed me off even more.
"Here."
The reason I stuck by this bitch taking insults? Not just her killer body under the avatar or the masochistic thrill. It was the money pouch she tossed.
50 gold coins inside. Game money. But also real cash.
"Sis, this much?"
"Your shields have been dropping lately."
"Mana recovery's short."
"Exactly. Swap for regen gear. One shield break tanks the raid? I'll kill you."
"Got it."
This bitch was definitely a hunter IRL. Her slips gave it away, but the cash slathered on her gear sealed it. She didn't skimp on herself, rich or not. But splashing it on others? Only if you were swimming in it. Even hunters—the money-printing nobles of today—didn't drop this much unless they were elite.
"One more dragon, then log."
A year duoing with Seora. I'd been dying to ask once or twice but held back. Today, I cracked the door open carefully.
"Hey. You're a hunter, right?"
"..."
Seora froze mid-stand, turning awkwardly. Her pose showed off those long legs and thighs perfectly. But her hardened expression hit first.
"What the fuck now? Tired of me?"
Pandora's box. We both knew not to open it. She wasn't hiding it, I knew, but popping the lid ended us. That's why she'd kept it up. Real personality under anonymity. She wouldn't pull this shit outside. Was that why she got serious? Thought I was threatening her?
I waved it off quick. I'd pocketed the 50 gold, but I wasn't dumb enough to gut the golden goose.
"Going to a rift tomorrow. Any tips?"
"...A rift? Suddenly? You awaken or what?"
"Nah, just porter."
"Why?"
"Huh?"
"Broke?"
The only hunter I knew. Maybe some helpful advice. I knew basic tips were a Google away. But to ease the anxiety, I wanted reassurance from someone who looked strong. Dumb of me to ask this bitch, though.
"Can't live like this forever..."
Money was tight too. Selling Seora's gold would cover a noob's gear or rent. But to keep duoing, I couldn't sell it. Top gear to support her left scraps for living expenses.
"Hah."
She sighed, eyeing me pitifully.
"Not here when I log in? I'll find another healer."
"...Won't happen."
Bad call. Just more bitching now, and if I slipped later, she'd grab it like ammo. Fucking bitch.
Still, after a year together, it stung. Worry mixed in—what if I couldn't duo anymore? I was tamed. Laughable, but watching her ride off on the dragon, I couldn't help it. I packed up and followed.
"Gotta go pray first. Then we hunt."
"Still doing that?"
"Yeah."
"Skip today."
"Can't. Today's the last one anyway."
"Sigh. Moron. Even if it worked, healers are already oversaturated."
Double burn. Signs of a meltdown, but she just sighed and waved.
"Back in three days."
"Cool, safe travels."
She almost bitched but swallowed it. Proof we'd spent a year together. At first, I wondered how far her crazy went. We'd gotten close, in a way.
"Bitch. Awaken and you're soup."
Close enough I could curse back. I watched her vanish, then logged out. Time for dawn prayer.
Fallen Purification Site. An A-rank rift on Namsan. Five years cleared, but with thousands dead, a memorial stood before the empty rift for the victims.
Every morning at 6 AM, I prayed there.
"May you find a better place."
Thousands lost to the rift. Not my parents or family, just prayer. Mourning the dead. Desperate wish for awakening.
"And grant me the power to vanquish evil. I'll do my best."
Ten minutes of earnest prayer.
"..."
Sighing at the rising sun.
"Figures. Fucking hell."
As Seora said, if it worked, the world would be full of healers. Or everyone doing hunter superstitions would be hunters.
I turned with heavy steps. Last prayer today.
"Haa."
Directionless life. Descending the stairs, a flash erupted behind me.