MMORPG: Birth of the World's Luckiest Player

Chapter 493: The Call He Couldn’t Ignore

Marcus answered Emily’s call almost immediately. Her image filled the screen, and for a moment he forgot to breathe. She was slender, her figure graceful without seeming studied, and her presence carried a quiet, almost ethereal beauty.

Her face was delicate, skin smooth and clear like polished porcelain, features so balanced they felt less like makeup or effort and more like something shaped naturally over time. Right now, her eyes were fixed on him, soft and longing, with a distant, fairy-tale clarity that made the space around her feel calmer just by association.

What always struck him most, though, was the aura she carried without trying. There was a freshness about her, something untouched and clean, like air drawn straight from the mountains. Even in a fitted blue business suit, she looked simple and unadorned, elegant in a way that had nothing to do with fashion. Her long dark hair, clear eyes, and gentle expression gave her the impression of someone who belonged among trees and streams rather than glass buildings and traffic. One glance was enough to tell she was not a child of the city.

Emily came from a Native American tribe deep in the highlands, far from urban life. She had grown up surrounded by mountains, and some part of that place still clung to her, no matter where she went.

"Marcus..."

Her voice wavered. Before she could say anything else, her eyes filled, and tears slid down her cheeks, unrestrained and quiet.

"You’re crying again," Marcus said gently. "I told you before, you need to be a little stronger."

The words sounded stiff even to his own ears, and he immediately knew they would not help. Sure enough, her tears only came faster. She looked at him through the screen with that same fragile, helpless expression, as if she were afraid that even speaking too much might make everything fall apart.

Marcus sighed inwardly, not in irritation but resignation. She really was delicate, like a flower that could not stand harsh wind. Still, he softened his tone. He had learned, at least, not to sound impatient with her.

Emily had joined Mellory shortly after Marcus, Ray, and Tyler. She was a graduate from one of the top art schools in the country, a true prodigy by any standard. Her sense of proportion, her control of line and color, her ability to translate emotion into visual form were all exceptional. Even Marcus, confident in his own skills, had to admit that when it came to pure artistic talent, she surpassed him.

The four of them quickly became the backbone of the department. Under Mark’s guidance, they had already delivered two standout campaigns within their first month, with several more concepts waiting in the wings. Their competence was obvious to anyone with eyes, which was why, even after Ray and Tyler had nearly blown up the office arguing over Marcus’s dismissal, the department head had not dared fire them. In this business, talent bought a lot of tolerance.

Marcus watched Emily quietly as she dabbed at her eyes. The cut of her suit outlined her figure neatly, the gentle curve of her waist and the fullness of her chest impossible to ignore even through a screen. As she sniffed, her breathing hitched slightly, and the movement was disarming in a way that had nothing to do with seduction and everything to do with vulnerability. He looked away after a second, more out of self-control than disinterest.

Emily embodied many of the best traits of her heritage: simplicity, diligence, and an unassuming grace. Beyond that, she was skilled in traditional dance and song, and her artistic instincts were close to genius. Taken together, it was hard not to think she was too good for a place like Mellory. More than once, they had joked about what kind of miraculous mountain could raise someone like her, so gentle and so gifted, as if she had drifted down from the clouds and never quite landed.

Yet she was nothing like the confident, outgoing girls people expected from her background. Emily was shy to the point of fragility, easily flustered, tears always close to the surface. She rarely spoke unless spoken to and avoided attention whenever she could. On the surface, she seemed weak.

Marcus knew better. Beneath that timidity was a quiet strength, but her fearfulness and constant anxiety made it hard for her to show it. The city overwhelmed her, and sometimes he wondered why she had ever left her mountain home. She belonged among clean air and open land, not concrete and crowds.

That same delicacy drew attention she did not want. In college, her fellow tribesmen had looked out for her, shielding her from trouble. After graduation, everyone went their separate ways, and she lost that protection.

At Mellory, it did not take long for problems to appear. The department head’s nephew began pursuing her openly, pestering her after work, pushing for dinners she clearly did not want. One evening, when he cornered her in the office lobby, panic overtook her. She scanned the room for help and spotted Marcus, Mark, Ray, and Tyler walking ahead of her.

Marcus noticed the look in her eyes and instinctively slowed his steps, letting the others move on. At the time, he had just broken up with Snow and felt drained by anything resembling emotional responsibility. Mark had authority, Ray had interest, and Tyler was practically itching for a chance to play hero. Any of them made more sense than him.

But Emily did not hesitate. She ran past all of them, straight to Marcus, clutching his arm like a lifeline as tears spilled freely.

"Marcus, I want to stay with you," she pleaded softly. "Please don’t let him take me."

She looked up at him, eyes red and shining, and in that moment, every excuse he had prepared dissolved. He did not feel triumphant or flattered, only a quiet resolve settle in his chest. He could not leave her like that.

From that day on, Emily stayed close to him. At work, during lunch, at company gatherings, she hovered near his side unless she was heading home. It was not possessive or calculated, just instinctive, like a frightened animal seeking safety.

Marcus found himself watching out for her without thinking, adjusting his pace, his schedule, even his tone of voice around her. Somehow, without either of them saying it outright, she had chosen him as her anchor, and he had accepted the role.