Chapter 11: The Nobel Hunter’s Journey
David’s mind spiraled fast, screaming internally with the specific horror of a man being asked to do something deeply, deeply inappropriate by a voice he couldn’t even punch.
’This is insane. This is actually insane. I met this woman four minutes ago. How is this a real quest objective. How is this system allowed to just — say this to me.’
[The purpose remains unchanged: to refine the player and improve his odds as he progresses toward his better future.]
’Shut up.’ he thought back, viciously.
[Noted. However, should player decline, the Quest will be automatically registered as a forfeit, triggering immediate execution of the stated penalty.]
’No — no, no, no.’ David’s internal panic ratcheted up another notch. ’Fine. Fine! I’ll do it. Seven days. I have seven whole days, I don’t have to think about this right now—’
"David?"
He blinked back into the room to find Mrs. Walbury peering at him, head tilted, clearly not asking for the first time.
"Are you sure you’re okay? You kind of went somewhere for a second there."
"I’m — yeah, I’m fine," he said quickly, waving a hand between them like he could physically bat the awkwardness out of the air.
"Totally here. What was the question?"
She gave him a look that suggested this was, in fact, the third time she’d asked.
"I said we’ll need your phone number, your address, and which plan you’d like to start on. Since you’re new, we’ve got a first-timer discount — full thirty days for only one-fifty dollars-"
David nearly choked on air. He caught himself just in time, turning the noise into a rough cough against the back of his hand, buying himself a solid three seconds of composure while internally screaming about the fact that he had, as of last night, exactly enough money in his account to buy either this membership or food, and not both.
"Sorry — sore throat," he said, clearing it dramatically for effect.
"One-fifty, you said?"
"One-fifty," she confirmed, entirely unaware she’d just made a man question every life decision that had led him to this exact moment.
’Right,’ he thought, doing rapid, increasingly desperate math in his head.
’I skipped dinner. I skipped breakfast. There’s a reason for that, and the reason is that I am extremely, extremely broke.’
Still, weighed against the alternative — losing his ability to feel 60% pleasure permanently to some sick system quest — one-fifty suddenly didn’t sound so unreasonable.
"Yeah, no, that’s , uhh... that’s actually a great deal," he said, nodding with far more enthusiasm than the situation called for.
"I’ll take it. Phone number’s—" He rattled it off, along with his address, feeling strangely proud of himself for managing two consecutive sentences without further embarrassment.
Mrs. Walbury jotted it all down, then glanced back up. "Great — and that’s basically everything, except for one last thing."
"What’s that?"
"You’ll need to select a trainer."
David didn’t love surprises, and apparently his face didn’t either, because whatever expression crossed it made Mrs. Walbury pause mid-sentence.
"We’ve got a small roster of trainers you can pick from," she said, sliding a hand across the desk to grab something. "Though a couple haven’t clocked in yet today, so options might be a little—" She stopped herself abruptly, glancing sideways at Holly like she’d just remembered something obvious. "Oh, wait — duh. Holly’s literally the one who referred you, isn’t she?"
Holly gave a small, easy shrug, smiling. "I mean, I’m right here."
’That could actually work,’ David thought, already half-turning toward her, some quiet relief settling in at the idea of not having to pick a total stranger.
"Feel free to pick literally anyone here, though," Mrs. Walbury added, tapping a worn pamphlet against the desk before sliding it toward him. "Everyone on staff’s eligible. You’ve got options, don’t feel boxed in."
"No, that’s not gonna be an issue," David said automatically — and then stopped himself, one particular word snagging in his brain and refusing to let go. "Wait. Hang on. When you say *anyone*—"
"Anyone," Mrs. Walbury confirmed. "As in, anybody listed in there." She gestured at the pamphlet again.
David picked it up, running his thumb along the edge — *Build Your Future Gym* printed in the same slightly-too-earnest font from the sign outside — and flipped it open, scanning down the short list of names and headshots.
And there, second from the bottom, practically glowing with narrative significance—
Mrs. Clara Walbury. Senior Trainer.
David’s brain short-circuited for exactly one glorious second. ’Wait.’ He read it again, just to make sure the universe wasn’t messing with him.
’Wait—’ The thought sharpened as it landed. ’She’s on the list. She’s an actual eligible trainer. That solves a real problem for me.’
He glanced between them, something dry and a little exhausted settling into the back of his mind.
’So that’s two targets on the board now. Holly — the one I actually want, the whole point of this operation in the first place. And Mrs. Walbury — the one I’m apparently on a clock for, courtesy of a system that clearly doesn’t believe in subtlety.’
He almost laughed at himself. ’Great. Love this. Truly the noble hunter’s journey I always pictured.’
A slow, entirely inappropriate smile started creeping across his face before he could stop it.
’Okay. Okay, this is good. But the most obvious choice would be someone who’s success determines the sanctity of my dick.’
He closed the pamphlet, straightened his shoulders, and looked up.
"Alright," he said, voice steadier than he felt.
"I think I’m ready to pick my trainer."
"Great! Who’d you land on?"
David turned his gaze, deliberately, fully, toward Mrs. Walbury.
"If I really get to pick anyone," he said.
"then I think I’d like it to be you, Mrs. Walbury."
***
Hey guys, I want to thank you for your support and due to that, I thought of a friendly challenge for both of us.
For every 200 powerstones I’ll release 10+ bonus Chapters...so, if you find it worth while, you can make your decision. Thank you.🫠
