Three million as an "Outstanding Employee Award"?
If this had happened just yesterday, Orson wouldn't have cared if it was a joke or not; he would've snatched that card without a second thought and shoved it in his pocket. But now? A measly three million was nothing more than a joke.
"Oh, Lauren, you're just too much."
Orson chuckled, watching Lauren's stiff, uncomfortable smile. He'd practically read her intentions at a glance. This supposed "bonus" wasn't a reward; it was an investment—a down payment for Orson's continued allegiance.
She thought her sly moves and pretty little waist could keep him tied down? Please.
Lauren obviously had kept an eye on Orson's dominant showing in *Infinite Dimensions*, and it was clear she wanted to keep him in Rank Studios, under her thumb.
"Business not looking so good for the other games these days, huh, Lauren?" Orson asked with a half-smile.
Lauren's smile faltered, but she forced herself to keep calm. "It's alright, I guess."
Lauren had been doing well as an heiress, building competitive teams and making decent money from pay-to-play studios in games like *Sword and Conquest*. But ever since *Infinite Dimensions* had launched, other games had been losing players fast. The investments she'd poured into *Sword and Conquest* were tanking daily. She had no choice but to throw all her resources into *Infinite Dimensions*, expanding her studio into a larger guild in the hopes that the game's massive player base would finally pay off.
Orson, with his undefeated "three-crown" reputation and current meteoric rise in the game, had clearly become Lauren's prime target.
Orson looked her over, unable to hide a smirk. "Gotta hand it to you, Lauren—you're pretty sharp."
"You flatter me, Orson." She forced a smile, though his piercing stare made her uneasy.
In just the first 30 hours since launch, the name Orgod had dominated the leaderboards, even surpassing *Dragon's Kiss Guild* and its leader Usher. If Orson agreed to rejoin Rank Studios and helped launch their guild, the buzz alone would skyrocket *Bright Galaxy* into the spotlight.
It was the perfect business play—textbook Lauren.
In the previous timeline, *Bright Galaxy* had indeed been a top-tier guild in the early days, and Orson himself had even led one of its 100-man farming teams. Back then, there wasn't much difference between players' skill levels, and *Bright Galaxy* had risen fast, clearing tough instances with Orson and several retired pros. Things were looking good—until the first contested Guild Outpost event came around.
But Lauren, satisfied with her initial gains, made a massive miscalculation. She didn't think the guild had enough power to take an outpost and refused to pay the 5 million for a spot in the guild wars. *Bright Galaxy*'s top players got poached, and in just a few short months, the guild was no longer in the running.
Lauren gritted her teeth, then softened her voice. "Think about it. I could even give you full control of the guild."
Orson couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, Lauren, stop joking around. There's no way I could handle that responsibility."
She might've played it cool, but if he was still slaving away as her "guild manager," would Lauren be standing here, looking desperate and asking him to accept a bonus? This woman, with her come-hither looks and charming demeanor, was nothing more than a shark in business attire.
In his two years of grinding under Rank Studios, Orson had earned the city's minimum wage, slaving away twelve hours a day. But he knew Lauren was just as much to blame as Charles, the manager who did her dirty work with such glee.
"Orson, please think it over," Charles started pleading, flashing a fawning smile. "I've got a big mouth; I shouldn't have snapped at you—here, you can smack me if it'll make you feel better." He even raised his hand, as if ready to slap himself for good measure.
Orson cringed. "No need for that routine. Yesterday, you couldn't have been happier to see Bradley and me fired."
He shook his head as he turned away. "This isn't the place to discuss it. As for the surgery fees and this 'bonus,' I won't be accepting them." Lauren's heart dropped, but before she could protest, Orson added, "That said, I do owe you one for arranging for the chief surgeon."
Lauren's face brightened slightly, sensing an opening. But Orson shut it down immediately with a calm smile. "I won't be joining your guild. The only thing I might do is help you secure an outpost—but I have one condition."
"Lauren, don't listen to his nonsense. Taking an outpost is no joke!" Charles muttered, lowering his voice to address Lauren directly. "Even if he's good, he's just one guy. The sign-up sheet already has over fifty guilds, and it's expected to reach at least a hundred contenders. And there are only twelve available guild outposts!"
Lauren's face tensed, but she turned back to Orson, who was as calm as if they were discussing the weather. "Alright, what's your condition?" she asked, trying to hide the desperation in her voice.
For her, this was an all-or-nothing gamble. With *Infinite Dimensions* exploding in popularity, successfully claiming an outpost could be her ticket to serious profits.
Orson's own thoughts turned as he glanced at Charles. When he'd hit rock bottom after being fired from Celestial, Lauren had been the only one willing to take him in. She'd been stingy, yes, but she'd still taken him on. In a way, he did owe her for that.
Orson took out his phone and dialed Bradley.
"Yo, Orson! What's up? Just about to start a dungeon."
"Hold on. There's someone here who wants to say hi."
"Really?" Bradley perked up. "Is it a cute girl or something?"
A loud smack and a scolding from his girlfriend were heard on the other end: "Girl my ass—get lost, you pig!"
Orson chuckled. "Don't worry, my ears are 'closed.'" He turned on speaker and handed the phone to a visibly uneasy Charles.
Lauren shot him a death glare, but Charles stammered out a reluctant, "D-dad… I'm sorry."
Bradley's gleeful voice crackled through the phone. "What? Signal's spotty—I didn't quite catch that. Louder!"
Charles turned beet red and nearly shouted, "DAD! I messed up, okay?!"
Satisfied, Orson hung up, sending Bradley off in high spirits and leaving Lauren and Charles both speechless.
After brushing them off, he took the bouquet of flowers and went to the door of hospital room 414. Orson took a deep breath, standing just outside, his hand shaking slightly as he clutched the flowers.
"I don't care how many times I'd have to do this over again… I swear I'll make sure nothing goes wrong this time."
Orson braced himself, taking a few moments to gather his courage, telling himself it was just to be the brother she deserved. Finally, he peeked through the window.
There, under a beam of gentle sunlight, was a young girl with chestnut hair sitting on the hospital bed. She looked so delicate, her pale skin almost translucent. Her long hair lifted softly in the breeze as she swiped through a tablet, the faintest smile on her lips.
In that instant, Orson felt his heart shatter and mend all at once, his vision blurring as tears slipped down his cheeks.
It was real—his nightmares had been vanquished, his dream come true.
He opened the door and, ignoring the glances from the other patients, strode over to her and wrapped her tightly in his arms. He gently brushed a hand over her hair and murmured in her ear, "I'm back for real this time. I'm really back."
"…Brother, aren't you supposed to be at work?" The girl looked up at him in surprise, a soft blush coloring her cheeks, her innocent face beaming in the sunlight.