Karma of Obsession (3)
Ian let Yuria settle into his embrace for a while before starting to ask about the important details one by one. The most crucial question was about the whereabouts of the other heroes—and she answered it bluntly.
"...The other stupid bitches all doubted Master and left."
He'd half-expected it, but hearing it confirmed still left a bitter taste. These were the kids I raised, after all. No, actually, Yuria was the impressive one for staying behind, guarding this place alone at the cost of her own body when anyone else would've bailed. That was the normal response.
But... something feels off.
As he listened more, not just the in-game map but the entire surrounding geography had changed after a quick look outside. There was no way Yuria alone could've held off a full-on raid from hardcore pay-to-win players right from the start. Squad balance was key in this game. That's why he'd gritted his teeth and poured cash into maintaining a five-man squad. Without a tank up front or a supporter to back up a raw glass-cannon 6-star like Yuria, even a well-geared single unit would get overwhelmed by two or three optimized 4-star squads ganging up.
The hopeful take was that the invading free-to-play scrubs couldn't catch her and got wiped out instead. But the Dark Sanctuary was surrounded by whales—no F2P scrubs in sight. If a rival guild player had brought even a decently balanced squad, not even Yuria could've stopped them cold.
The guild castle and mythic gear are definitely still here, but... It was hard to buy that she'd defended this place solo. No sign of any other guild members' characters—not even one. Everything aboveground except the main mansion had battle scars from the war, heavily damaged in places. The castle wasn't pristine either; fierce combat scars lingered on the walls. So it had seen fighting, just not untouched.
The obvious question arose naturally.
"What about the other guild members?"
"...They all suddenly left after Master departed."
She'd been completely alone. Wait—what?
"Huh?"
Ian reflexively blurted it out, doubting his own ears. Any player who'd seriously touched this game would question it. Hell, even in real life, it made zero sense.
"For 15 years... alone... Is there a problem...?"
"...So you're saying you took them all down?"
Ian's shock had solid reasons. An auto-piloted character with no player control—holding a ridiculous siege where the odds were stacked against the defenders, wiping out hordes single-handedly? Who'd buy that? It flew in the face of assuming other guildmates had been around. And telling someone who'd quit the game for years that she'd pulled it off ten times in a row without him? No wonder he couldn't believe it.
The maid before him was spouting nonsense that defied all common sense.
"Instead, my Karma hit over -999..."
Yeah, figures. He'd half-guessed it the moment he realized the guild was empty. The trashed training grounds, crumbled walls—clear signs of fighting without basic repairs or defenses. The NPCs were all on standby under Yuria's absolute command, guarding the warehouse, meaning no one to manage her directly. A hero neglected for decades, without even basic upkeep. Add excessive killing in endless wars, reaping countless lives and souls, and boom—Karma skyrockets negative.
-999 was a jaw-dropping number even Ian had never seen. Killing 500 characters barely dinged you -100. Why was that bad? Extreme negative Karma stacked manias and debuffs relentlessly. Without holy water or fixes pronto, you could straight-up die in severe cases. He'd seen a gallery post where some idiot blew a 7-star to Karma madness and rage-cried. Hero Karma management was critical.
But his experience topped out at -70. -999? No clue what debuffs that unleashed.
Worry spilled from Ian's mouth first.
"You okay? Let me check."
"!!"
Soft underarm, sideboob jiggling like water balloons straining a crisp white shirt with every brush of his fingers, slim waist, seductive hips—invaded for the first time by a man's touch. She couldn't know what it meant, but Ian was sweating bullets as he lifted her arm, scanning her body. Realizing he'd nearly groped her, he pulled back—
But Yuria, with a resolved expression, said,
"If Master stays by my side... I think it'd get better."
She smiled sweetly, nestling deeper into his arms like it was nothing.
"..."
Despair clouded Ian's face. This is bad. Really bad.
She was hurting—had to be. Pushing through, faking smiles just to keep him caring, even if her life was on a timer. Like he'd said, Karma was basic hero maintenance. Overwork them, and even non-fatal wounds kill via debuff, or diseases hit hard. Now imagine that number off the charts.
He wanted to reset her Karma now, but it was hopeless. Her condition screamed terminal.
"Yuria, why the hell..."
His scolding words died unspoken. He couldn't snap at the girl who'd trusted only him, taken every hit for his sake. Put it in real terms: A pretty, sweet girl waits faithfully for her husband who ghosts her abroad, handles the house, his leftover cash, everything—then gets cancer? Nah, worse: beaten by thugs over his debts, now terminal. You'd call her insane, scream Are you brain-dead? A sane woman curses the deadbeat hubby who wrecked her bright future.
Yuria could've snagged any noble and thrived. Instead, branded witch, murderer, she tossed a guaranteed win to wait for one man.
But if he was that husband? Even a trash human couldn't speak. She'd be chained to him forever, used up, then die. Guilt crashed in.
Sure, debuffs or not, she'd still be strong—his last hero deserved top treatment, kept close. Use old guild gear, leftovers, whatever. Better than starting from zero with at least an endgame DPS.
But that thought? Scrapped.
"...Sorry, Yuria."
To her, he was the guy who'd ditched without a word. Fled overseas, burned out. Total scumbag puke-worthy.
He'd turned the crybaby who hated killing most into... this. All his fault.
"N-no... It's all, all my fault. I was... immature, so Master was disappointed... Sob, I... I failed..."
Yet Yuria clasped her hands, begging him to lift her head. Tears streaming down her pretty crying face, weakening his resolve... Focus. Hadn't he exploited this pure, tender-hearted woman's devotion? Pure trash.
Still, she beamed through tears at his return—like her flower path lay ahead.
"Then... thank you, Yuria."
"Yes, Master."
Ian didn't refuse her hug, squeezing tight. Yeah, she must be exhausted.
"I wanted... to stay like this... forever."
So many wounds. Time to let go?
Ian gripped her shoulders, meeting her eyes.
"Yuria, you can release the bond now."
"...Pardon?"
Her happy smile froze. Blinking, uncomprehending.
"You can rest now."
A sound like her mind sinking into deep darkness echoed.
"...What does that mean?"
"You've worked hard enough. This is your reward—you don't have to follow me anymore. No need to force those smiles."
Her tiny world crumbled.
"Ah, ah..."
Clink. The dagger she'd never dropped carelessly hit the floor. She backed away, shaking her head side to side.
No. That's not—
"No, Master. That's not—"
[??? Intruders have invaded your territory. Scale: 500 (Elite) | Danger Level: A]