Hanbyeol in Front, Laila Behind
All the guilds' ultimate goal was supposedly returning home. But Daesik didn't buy it wholesale. He'd originally planned to weed out the worst offenders in the prison, use their executions as a pretext to stir up politics about innocent people dying unjustly, and all that jazz—but my capture forced him to scrap it and rush things along.
I thought it was a bit ruthless, but with reality staring us in the face, there was no choice but to trust he wouldn't go around causing trouble now. After all, we had no charges here in this world. We just had to watch ourselves. Warn guild members to steer clear of persons of interest, that sort of thing.
Listening to Hanbyeol recount all this made me feel deeply sorry inside. These were things adults should have handled, yet here I was dragging her into it. I'd figured sharing a bed meant she'd chatter about this world's curiosities or brag and vent about the day's events—but out came these heavy talks instead.
"And the guilds Daesik oppa told us to avoid are mostly recruiting parties to tackle dungeons. Even the temple priests are signing up."
"Hm... What about paladins? They can self-heal and tank."
"Paladins got mysteriously excluded for some reason. Maybe because their damage output suffers for all that tanking and healing. Anyway, most players are max level. Newbies who aren't get carried and leveled by their guilds in dungeons. So at points where they need firepower, they bring synergy healers or pure healers and fill out the rest of the party with DPS."
It made sense. Just like how I'd hesitated to party with Iris, others probably thought the same. Bards or dancers who amplify party damage at the cost of lower heals, or support healers, would work fine—but apparently, those players weren't visible in the prison or temple yet. They'd probably scattered on their own. Fantasy novels paint bards and dancers as wandering performers, so dancers might have troupes, at least.
I got it, but tying it to what Hanbyeol said earlier made me worry.
"Hanbyeol, this might be overthinking... but if they drag along a basically defenseless priest and do something bad..."
Even if pairing paladins and priests diluted DPS, this wasn't a game—it was reality. More healing buffer never hurt. Insurance was better in abundance, so cherry-picking priests over paladins felt off. Especially after what happened to me; I couldn't ignore it.
Those two inquisitors with food names snatching me—if I'd had even a shred of power, I could've resisted and escaped. Instead, I'd been hauled off powerless. And it wasn't someone else's problem. There were a few of our guild priests besides me—I hadn't met them at the guild house yet, but they could be targets too.
"Hm..."
The sharp Hanbyeol caught on quick and let out a groan.
"Never thought of it that way... They're not idiots; why risk harming the one holding their lifeline? If the healer gets pissed and cuts heals, they're screwed."
"Plenty of people like that out there. If they'd troll in a game, no reason they wouldn't in reality."
Gaming exposed you to all sorts. Normals dominated, sure, but one troll could shatter a party in seconds, leaving bitter memories like a mosquito bloodstain on the wall.
People picked fights no matter what—not just bad plays, but nitpicking IDs, customizations, looks, or even moods. They'd sabotage raids mid-run. Pull mob aggro, become AoE bait to assassinate the tank. Reality stress relief, maybe. But Daesik and I agreed: conscious trolling revealed true nature. That's why he aimed to eliminate them at the source. Ruthless, but understandable.
"...Unnie. Your kidnapping this time—was it because of people like that?"
Hanbyeol slipped her hand around my back, pressing close. Despite our similar heights, she dipped lower, resting her chin in my cleavage—well, more like wedging it there as we lay facing each other on our sides. Her bright eyes gazing up at me even in bed were adorable.
"Pretty much. Selfish types who don't care what happens to others..."
Did the Pope, oppressing possessors, crave power? Or just his ideal solo fantasy world? Unjustifiable either way, but I wondered. Why torture and hang me like that?
Lost in those thoughts, my throat tightened, breath unsteady. I'd thought Laila had fucked the trauma out of me over two exhausting days, but invoking the Pope triggered it—gasping for air out of nowhere. Fine during the day, but...
"Unnie...? You okay?"
Hanbyeol eased out of the hug, wriggling up to peer worriedly into my face. But her pulling away made the strangling worse. Maybe recalling him as sleep crept in? I didn't want weakness before her, but stonewalling risked uglier scenes, so I rasped,
"Hic... Hanbyeol, sorry, can you just... hold me a bit...?"
The lonely noose tightened in my mind. Air cut off, vision blackening. Nothing touched my neck, yet the phantom choke suffocated me.
"Guhk, kkh, Hanbyeol, my neck, something's on my..."
"Huh? Unnie, nothing's there. Calm down. Unnie? Snap out of it."
"Khk, kkhuh..."
I knew. She'd stripped my priestess robes before bed for comfort under the covers—no collar, no earrings, necklaces, rings, nothing like Laila's choker. But reason failed this hypersensitive body that buckled under endless stims. My throat screamed of constriction. Breathless, I curled fetal; bound arms twitched uselessly, unable to claw my neck.
"Unnie, see? Nothing. That Pope bastard..."
Hanbyeol rubbed my throat, grinding her teeth. Then Laila slipped in from behind.
"Little mage, mind if I help...? Same bed and I'll assist. Carpet or not, the floor's cold."
"Do whatever!"
Something yanked me back. I gasped, tumbling off the bed. Braced for impact, but no pain. Peeking, Laila lay beneath me on the floor, catching me.
"How's that, Eve? Calmer?"
The fall's shock? Or Laila's save overlaying the vertigo? The throat vise vanished.
"Haa, haa... Thanks. Hanbyeol, sorry. Woke you up."
"...Sorry, if I'd known it'd hit you this hard, I wouldn't have asked."
"No, it's fine. Didn't expect a name to do this..."
Embarrassed at my age to crumble over a name. Self-loathing had me squirming on the floor when Laila scooped me up to bed.
"Here, no premature Pope, just beauties on both sides. Sleep easy, Eve. Wake me if you get horny."
She laid me before seated Hanbyeol, then claimed the spot behind me.
"Hey. Back down."
"Eek."
"Thanks, both... I'm good now. Hanbyeol, bed order's not here yet—share tonight?"
"...Fine. She helped, so just this once."
I mustered a smile for Hanbyeol and settled back. She eyed me warily, lay down, and pulled me close.
"Unnie, I swear off booze forever."
Sudden vow puzzled me.
"Why? Out of nowhere?"
"If I hadn't gotten drunk, they couldn't have taken you..."
"No, I'd have been nabbed anyway. That was the goal—they'd have split us. Or you'd be at risk too."
"Better me with you than you hurt."
"That's... you suffering for me."
"You suffering for me? No way."
She snapped stubbornly, burying her face in my chest—no more lectures. Spoiled or just willful? Giving in might spoil her... Exhaustion from the panic won; I let it slide.
"Yeah, whatever... Booze ain't good for you anyway."
Best to smooth it over. Eyes shut, lemon-rose scents mingled like aromatherapy.
In the dream, I was bound too. Unlike reality, leg irons chained me in a soft-padded room alone. Like an insane asylum cell. Worried I'd cracked mentally, I tried rising—failed. Chains allowed barely a foot; bound arms couldn't help. Soft floor spared pain as I rolled, groaning, scanning like an escape room. Bondage edition.
Intuition screamed free restraints first. Furniture too high for bound hands—no keys. Flailing clueless, Hanbyeol hugged me from behind. No face, no voice, but I knew.
"Unnie, you're safe only here. Never go out—got it?"
Her usual cheer chilled me; I didn't turn or reply. She groped me.
"Hauk!"
Tummy tickle jolted me awake. Hanbyeol's serene sleeping face, brows furrowed sweetly. Behind, Laila murmured sleepily, hands roaming my belly. Beauties fore and aft—torture. Alone, I'd shift or sip water for new dreams. But wedged with them hugging tight, I feared waking them. Laila leg-locked mine like a body pillow—impossible to budge without super strength.
No wonder the damn dream. Couldn't even sigh lest Hanbyeol stir; swallowed breath, shut eyes. Laila's lips smacked my back. Wake her? She'd shamelessly demand a round. I'd endure—nothing else for it.