MMORPG: GODS GARDEN

Rex's spectral return to the past wasn't just about mending his friendship with Jin; it was about confronting the architects of his downfall, Cathy and Max. He knew they were manipulative, ambitious, and utterly ruthless. He had experienced their treachery firsthand, both in GODS GARDEN and in the real world. But even knowing what he knew, seeing them now, younger, still in their college personas, it was difficult to reconcile these seemingly innocent versions with the vipers they would become.

Then, a message popped up on his phone – a college email. It was an invitation for an interview, a seemingly innocuous opportunity that, in his previous life, had been the first step on a path to servitude. The interview had been arranged by Max and Cathy, a "favor" to help Rex find a part-time job. They had presented it as a legitimate opportunity, a chance to gain valuable experience and earn some extra cash. Rex, trusting his friends, had gone along with it, eager to prove himself and contribute financially.

The reality, however, had been far different. The interview was a sham, a carefully orchestrated setup. The company, "Rising Solutions," was a front, a gold-farming operation run by a Tier 3 guild in GODS GARDEN. The "job" was essentially virtual slavery. Rex, unknowingly, had signed a contract – cleverly worded and deceptively presented by Cathy and Max – that bound him to work as a gold farmer for the guild. He spent countless hours performing repetitive tasks in GODS GARDEN, gathering resources and accumulating in-game currency, all of which went directly to the guild's coffers. He was exploited, his time and energy drained for the benefit of others.

The realization of the deception had been a slow, agonizing process. He had initially dismissed his discomfort, telling himself it was just a job, a means to an end. But as the hours piled up, as he saw his friends progressing in the game, enjoying the fruits of his labor, the truth began to dawn. He was being used, manipulated, a pawn in their game. When he finally confronted Cathy and Max, they feigned ignorance, playing the victim, claiming they had no idea about the true nature of the company. They twisted the narrative, making him feel guilty for questioning their "generosity." Rex, trusting them despite his growing suspicions, had given them the benefit of the doubt, a decision he would come to regret.

Seeing the interview invitation now, knowing what he knew, filled Rex with a cold fury. He recognized the pattern, the subtle manipulation, the carefully crafted facade. He saw the trap being laid out before him, and this time, he wouldn't fall for it. He wouldn't repeat the same mistake. He wouldn't allow Cathy and Max to exploit him again. He deleted the email, a small act of defiance, a symbolic rejection of their control. He knew he had to be careful. He couldn't expose his knowledge of the future too soon. He needed to play his cards close to his chest, to gather information, to understand the full extent of their plans. But one thing was certain: he would not be their pawn. He would not be their slave. He would expose their treachery, not just in the game, but in the real world as well. He would make them pay for what they had done, for the trust they had betrayed, for the time they had stolen. This time, he would be ready.

The college email arrived like a phantom limb twitching, a reminder of the past manipulation that had nearly cost Rex everything. It was an invitation to an interview, a seemingly innocuous opportunity that, in his previous life, had been the first step on a path to virtual slavery. He recognized the pattern instantly: the friendly tone, the seemingly generous offer, the subtle pressure to accept. It was a trap, meticulously crafted by Cathy and Max, designed to exploit his trust and ensnare him in their web of deceit. He deleted the email with a surge of cold anger. They thought they were so clever, so cunning, pulling the same trick again. They didn't know he was onto them, that he had escaped their grasp, that he was now a ghost from their past, returning to settle the score.

The decision to drop out of college was a difficult one, but necessary. He knew they would see it as foolish, as a waste of potential, but he didn't care about their opinions. He had bigger things to worry about, a past to rewrite, a future to reclaim. He walked into the administration building, the familiar scent of stale paper and bureaucratic indifference filling his nostrils. He approached the counter, the clerk, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes and a world-weary expression, barely glancing up.

"I'd like to withdraw from college," Rex stated, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

The clerk, without making eye contact, asked for his student ID. As she processed the paperwork, Rex could feel her judgment, the unspoken disapproval radiating from her. She probably saw him as another statistic, another young person making a mistake, throwing away their future. He could almost hear her internal monologue: Another one bites the dust. Such a waste.

The clerk asked the standard questions – reason for withdrawal, future plans – questions that felt absurdly comical given his situation. He gave vague, noncommittal answers, deflecting her curiosity. He wasn't about to explain to her that he was a time-traveling ghost trying to prevent his own virtual enslavement.

As he signed the withdrawal forms, Rex noticed the clerk's smirk, the subtle hint of condescension in her eyes. She thought she had him pegged, another naive student making a rash decision. He could practically hear her whispering to her colleagues during their break later, shaking their heads at "the youth of today". Kids these days, no sense of commitment.

He felt a flicker of amusement, a cold, detached amusement. Let them think what they wanted. Let them judge him. They didn't know the truth. They didn't know the game he was playing, the forces he was up against. They saw a student dropping out; they didn't see the ghost returning to rewrite his destiny.

He handed back the signed forms, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. It wasn't a smile of happiness or relief. It was a smile of cold, quiet satisfaction. He knew he was being judged, that he was seen as a fool, but he didn't care. He had outsmarted Cathy and Max. He had escaped their trap. He had taken the first step towards reclaiming his life. And that, he knew, was worth any amount of judgment or condescension.

As he turned to leave the building, he paused and looked back at the clerk, her eyes still fixed on her computer screen. He gave her one last smile, a slow, deliberate smile that held a hint of knowing amusement, a touch of cold defiance. It was a smile that said, You think you know me. You think I'm making a mistake. But you have no idea what's coming. Then, he turned and walked out, leaving the clerk to her assumptions and her quiet disapproval. He had a past to confront, a future to reclaim, and he wouldn't let anyone, not even the collective judgment of the college administration, stand in his way. They saw a fool; he knew he was a ghost with a mission.

As Rex left the college administration building, a sense of liberation washing over him, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. He knew Cathy and Max were manipulative, but their reach extended beyond just him. He had been their target, their easy mark, but he suspected they were playing the same game with others, exploiting their trust and naivete for their own gain. A nagging feeling, a spectral echo of his past vulnerability, pushed him to investigate.

He walked towards the student union, a hub of activity, a place where students gathered between classes, sharing gossip and dreams. He kept to the shadows, his spectral form allowing him to observe without being seen, a ghost among the living. He scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces, for anyone who looked lost, confused, or perhaps a little too eager.

Then he saw them. Cathy and Max, surrounded by a small group of students, their faces beaming with practiced charm. They were handing out flyers, glossy brochures with the "Rising Solutions" logo prominently displayed. Rex recognized the language, the carefully crafted promises of flexible hours, good pay, and valuable experience. It was the same pitch they had used on him, the same carefully woven web of deceit.

He moved closer, his spectral presence unnoticed, allowing him to eavesdrop on their conversation. He heard Cathy's smooth voice, her words dripping with sincerity, as she painted a picture of opportunity and success. She spoke of career advancement, of networking, of gaining skills that would be invaluable in the future. She was a master of manipulation, able to weave a spell of hope and ambition that masked the underlying exploitation.

Max, ever the supportive partner, chimed in with his own brand of enthusiasm, reinforcing Cathy's claims, adding his own personal anecdotes about the "amazing opportunities" that Rising Solutions offered. He spoke of the company's "commitment to its employees," of their "supportive work environment," of their "generous compensation package." It was all lies, carefully constructed to lure in unsuspecting victims.

Rex's spectral form lingered near Cathy and Max, his presence unseen, his emotions a turbulent mix of anger, resentment, and a chilling sense of anticipation. He watched them ensnare other unsuspecting students with their lies, their carefully crafted promises of opportunity and success. He saw the hope in the students' eyes, their eagerness to believe, and a dark satisfaction began to bloom within him. He wouldn't intervene. Not yet.

He remembered the sting of their betrayal, the way they had manipulated him, exploited his trust, and turned him into a virtual slave. He remembered the countless hours he had spent toiling in GODS GARDEN, gathering resources for their benefit, while they reaped the rewards. He remembered the humiliation, the feeling of being used, of being nothing more than a pawn in their game.

These students, these naive, trusting souls, they didn't know what awaited them. They didn't know the truth about Rising Solutions, about the exploitative contracts, about the endless hours of virtual drudgery. They didn't know Cathy and Max's true nature, the cold, calculating ambition that lurked beneath their charming facade.

And Rex wouldn't tell them. He wouldn't warn them. He would let them fall into the same trap he had fallen into. He would let them experience the same betrayal, the same humiliation, the same sense of helplessness. He would let them learn the hard way, just as he had.

It wasn't about revenge, not exactly. It was more about justice, a twisted, spectral form of justice. He had suffered, he had been betrayed, and now, others would share his fate. It was a dark, vindictive part of him, a part he hadn't known existed before his death, that reveled in the prospect of their suffering.

He watched Cathy and Max, their smiles so genuine, their words so convincing, and a cold smile spread across his spectral face. They were so confident, so sure of themselves, so convinced that they were getting away with it. They didn't know he was watching, that he knew their secrets, that he was waiting for the perfect moment to expose them.

He would wait. He would bide his time. He would let them build their little empire of lies, let them amass their ill-gotten gains. He would let them believe they had won, that they had outsmarted everyone. And then, when they least expected it, when they were at the peak of their success, he would strike. He would reveal their treachery, expose their lies, and bring their carefully constructed world crashing down around them. He would be their downfall, their reckoning, their ghost from the past returning to claim his due. He would let them taste the same bitter medicine they had forced upon him. It wouldn't be pretty, but it would be justice, of a sort. And in his spectral heart, Rex knew it would be satisfying.

As Rex watched Cathy and Max weave their web of deceit, a familiar figure caught his spectral eye. Standing at a distance, observing the scene with a quiet intensity, was a girl he recognized. Tara. He remembered her. She had been in some of his classes, always quiet, always observant. He remembered catching her gaze a few times, a flicker of something he had mistaken for shyness. He had been so caught up in Cathy's orbit, so blinded by his infatuation, that he had never given Tara a second thought. Now, seeing her there, watching Cathy and Max with a look of unease on her face, a pang of regret resonated through his spectral form.

He remembered the subtle hints, the unspoken admiration that he had failed to acknowledge. He remembered the times she had lingered after class, as if wanting to talk, but he had always been preoccupied with Cathy, rushing off to meet her or Max, dismissing Tara's presence as mere coincidence. He had been so absorbed in his own world, so blinded by his own desires, that he had failed to see the genuine connection that had been offered to him.

Now, as a ghost, he saw things differently. He saw the sincerity in Tara's eyes, the quiet intelligence that shone through her reserved demeanor. He saw the way she watched Cathy and Max, her expression a mixture of suspicion and concern. He realized that she saw through their charade, that she recognized their manipulation for what it was. And he realized, with a jolt of shame, that he had ignored someone who genuinely cared for him, while he had been blinded by the allure of someone who would ultimately betray him.

He felt a pang of guilt, a spectral ache in his chest. He had been so foolish, so blind. He had allowed his infatuation with Cathy to cloud his judgment, to blind him to the genuine connections that were right in front of him. He had dismissed Tara's quiet admiration, never giving her a chance, never even considering the possibility of a different kind of relationship.

Now, it was too late. He was a ghost, a spectator in his own past, unable to interact with the world around him. He couldn't reach out to Tara, couldn't explain his regrets, couldn't apologize for his past indifference. He was trapped, a prisoner of time, forced to watch as she witnessed Cathy and Max's deception, knowing that he had the power to stop it, but unable to act.

He wondered if she had seen him with Cathy and Max, if she had witnessed their manipulations firsthand. He wondered if she had seen his complicity, his failure to recognize their true nature. He wondered if she had judged him, if she had seen him as just another fool, blinded by charm and ambition.

He wanted to reach out to her, to explain everything, to tell her the truth. But he couldn't. He was a ghost, a phantom, invisible and inaudible. He could only watch, a silent observer, filled with regret for the chances he had missed, for the connection he had ignored. He saw Tara, her eyes filled with concern as she watched Cathy and Max ensnare another unsuspecting student, and he knew he had to find a way to act. He couldn't let them continue their charade. He owed it to Tara, he owed it to himself, and he owed it to the memory of the genuine connection he had so carelessly dismissed.

Author note :hello guys i hope you like the story i am dark eye it is my pen name if you like this wanna by me a coffe can contact me through email [email protected] and my line id darkeye2326 you can get advance chapters if you contact me thank you.can accept any ideas from you guys

2697 words i hope I can keep up