Chapter 137: You won’t get it easy
A peaceful morning greeted Blake when he finally woke up.
For a few moments, he simply lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. A yawn escaped him as he stretched one arm over his head.
There was a light headache lingering behind his eyes, a dull pressure that reminded him of exactly how much alcohol he’d consumed the night before.
Still, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.
Compared to some of the hangovers he’d experienced in his previous life, this barely qualified as an inconvenience.
With a sigh, Blake pushed himself upright and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
’Woah, I’m feeling so... decent?’
His body wasn’t the lightest, but he was feeling far better than he should have.
That alone was suspicious.
In his past life, after drinking enough to black out, he would’ve felt like a truck had run him over repeatedly before deciding to reverse and do it again for good measure.
Blake frowned.
The feeling followed him all the way to the kitchen.
The apartment was silent. Early morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting soft golden beams across the floor and countertops.
After grabbing a glass, he filled it with water and drank the entire thing without stopping.
The cool liquid eased the dryness in his throat.
’Much better.’
Setting the glass down, he sat in one of the kitchen chairs and stretched his back.
Then he looked down, and immediately froze.
"...What?"
His eyes narrowed.
These weren’t the clothes he’d worn yesterday.
The sleepiness vanished instantly.
Blake looked down again, that was definitely not his outfit from yesterday.
A strange feeling settled in his stomach.
Slowly, he started retracing the previous evening.
’Yesterday, I obviously got drunk, that much I remember, but then, um...’
Hangovers were annoying enough, but memory loss was where the real problems started.
Blake leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples.
"Come on..."
He forced himself to think and remember.
The memory was blurry and scattered, like pieces of a puzzle dumped onto the floor.
The last clear thing he remembered was seeing Myles approach him on the street.
After that, nothing.
Blake groaned.
"Seriously?"
He concentrated harder.
Several seconds passed.
Then a fragment surfaced.
Myles.
Standing close.
The front door of Blake’s apartment.
Their bodies nearly touching.
Blake immediately stiffened.
"..."
That was all, the memory ended there with no context or continuation.
Blake scratched the back of his head.
’This is bad.’
Actually, this was really bad.
Because one thing was obvious, he definitely hadn’t changed clothes by himself.
He stared at his shirt.
Then his pants.
Then his shirt again.
"...Well."
Swallowing slowly, Blake ran his tongue across his teeth.
Then he paused, his expression tightening.
His teeth felt clean.
His mouth felt cleaner than it usually did in the mornings after getting wasted.
"...Nah."
Another pause.
"No way."
His face slowly twisted, how far exactly had this gone?
He sat there silently for several moments, then scoffed.
"Ludicrous!"
Honestly, it didn’t mean anything.
And considering the disaster that existed between him and Myles now, basic care after drunkenness wasn’t nearly enough to fix the situation.
Not even close!
Blake crossed his arms.
Actually, considering all the trouble Myles had caused, this wasn’t even worth thanking him for.
The man practically owed him at this point.
Blake grabbed his phone from the table.
The screen lit up.
6:00 AM.
His eyebrows rose.
"Huh, look at that. It is surprisingly early."
Especially considering he hadn’t set an alarm.
Normally, after drinking, he’d sleep through half the day. Instead, he’d woken up naturally before sunrise.
"Weird."
Blake stared at the time for another second before shaking his head.
There were more important matters.
"Spoon."
[ Good morning, Dear Host. ]
"You’re cheerful, you little shit."
[ Statistical analysis indicates that cheerful greetings improve user satisfaction by 3.4%. ]
"Shut the hell up."
[ Yes, Dear Host. ]
"I need details."
[ Regarding? ]
"The penalty."
[ Ah, the consequences of your poor choices. ]
Blake frowned.
"I wasn’t asking for commentary. You really do have split personalities."
[ Commentary is free. Unlike your system privileges. ]
"..."
[ However, I shall graciously explain. ]
Blake rested his chin on one hand.
"Go ahead."
[ All buffs acquired through the system prior to the penalty may be activated five times each. ]
"Five times, ugh."
[ Correct. Once those uses are exhausted, they become unavailable until the penalty period concludes. ]
Blake clicked his tongue.
’How annoying!’
[ Additionally, all skills obtained through spinning-wheel rewards are restricted to thirty minutes of active usage. ]
Blake immediately frowned.
"The spinning-wheel skills are the real problem."
[ Indeed, Dear Host. Most of them compensate for your questionable survival instincts. ]
"I survive fine."
[ Historical evidence disagrees. ]
Blake ignored that.
Among his spinning-wheel abilities, fear resistance was useful.
But honestly, it wasn’t irreplaceable.
The more dangerous situations he experienced, the less afraid he became naturally.
Fear resistance was nice but not essential.
The sneaky skill, however, mattered a lot.
"I’ll Sneak For My Lover" had become one of his most practical abilities.
Whether it was avoiding attention, fooling opponents, slipping past security, or basically staying off camera footage, it was absurdly valuable.
Losing unrestricted access to it was a headache.
Blake tapped the table.
"Wait."
[ Yes? ]
"The thirty-minute restriction, is that thirty minutes total?"
[ Clarify. ]
"Do all three spinning-wheel skills share one thirty-minute timer?"
Blake leaned forward.
"Or does each skill get thirty minutes separately?"
[ Each skill possesses an independent thirty-minute duration. ]
Blake visibly relaxed.
"Oh."
[ Were you concerned? ]
"Obviously, but still, I am screwed regardless. While we’re at it, I’ve got another question."
[ Proceed. ]
"The buffs..."
[ Five activations each. ]
Blake rubbed his eyes, sighing heavily.
"I didn’t even ask yet, c’mon, at least warn be before info dumping..."
[ Every buff possesses five independent uses. They do not share a collective pool. ]
Blake nodded. Again, that was significantly better than he’d feared.
Honestly, the penalty was bad, but it could’ve been so much worse.
’My expectations are truly pathetic.’
The system seemed to enjoy suffering almost as much as it enjoyed sarcasm.
Blake leaned back, then another thought occurred to him.
"What about future purchases?"
[ Future purchases? ]
"The skills and buffs I buy from now on."
Blake crossed his arms.
"Are those affected too?"
[ No, Dear Host. The restrictions apply exclusively to abilities acquired before the penalty was imposed. ]
[ Any new privileges obtained through the system will function normally. ]
[ Congratulations. Your future poor decisions remain fully supported. ]
Blake sighed.
"That’s good enough."
Actually, it was excellent news.
If future purchases remained unrestricted, then he still had room to recover.
The situation wasn’t hopeless, just incredibly inconvenient.
Blake stood from the chair, his joints cracking softly.
The apartment remained quiet.
For a moment, he simply stared out the window.
Then he smiled.
Because despite everything: the missing memories, the awkward situation, the suspiciously clean body, the changed clothes...
He wasn’t planning to avoid Myles forever, not at all.
Actually, he knew exactly what he was going to do.
***
Some time later, Blake left the apartment.
The city was only beginning to wake. The streets were calmer than usual, a cool breeze drifting through the air.
Blake shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked toward the bus stop.
Then he spotted him.
Myles, standing nearby, waiting.
The moment Blake saw him, he noticed the usual calmness in the other man’s posture.
’I see, so you haven’t been preparing for this exact encounter... you’ll regret that!’
Blake didn’t react on the outside.
Didn’t wave, didn’t acknowledge him, he simply walked right past him.
Completely ignoring him.
Myles turned, then, he quietly followed, still silent.
Blake resisted the urge to smirk.
’Good, follow me!’
The bus arrived shortly afterward.
Passengers began boarding.
Blake stepped inside.
His eyes swept across the seats.
Eventually, he found exactly what he wanted.
A seat with no free space beside it.
’Perfect.’
Blake sat down comfortably.
Calmly.
Then he pulled out his phone.
Several seconds later, Myles boarded.
Blake could practically feel the man’s gaze.
Without saying a word, Myles walked down the aisle and sat directly behind him.
Still following.
Still silent.
Blake looked at his screen.
[ Dear Host. ]
’What now?’
[ Your heart rate has increased by six percent. ]
Blake rolled his eyes.
’I’m planning."
The system looked deeply unconvinced.
Blake ignored it, because he genuinely was planning.
The restrictions had changed things.
A lot.
For the first time in a while, he was closer to being an ordinary person again.
Actually, weaker than ordinary in some situations.
That meant he needed alternatives.
Resources.
Support.
Backup plans.
And if a certain person happened to owe him several favors, well.
Blake wasn’t the type to waste opportunities.
[ Dear Host, are you working against the individual seated directly behind you? ]
He smiled, looking directly at the screen.
[ Ah. Confirmed. ]
His smile widened.
Myles had caused enough trouble.
Enough confusion.
Enough headaches.
Including whatever had happened last night.
If Blake was going to deal with system penalties, weakened abilities, and an increasingly complicated life, then someone was going to help.
Preferably the source of half those complications.
He stared at his phone while a plan slowly formed in his mind.
One that would ensure Myles paid him back properly!
And judging by the way Spoon had already started expressing concern for humanity, it was probably a very good plan.
