Between Realms and Heartbeats

Chapter 1

In the online game "Realm of Dreams," her friends affectionately called her "The Queen."
Every day, she lived a routine filled with work—designing by day and battling monsters by night.
Honestly, she found this way of life quite easy and felt no urge to look for a boyfriend.
But then there was that annoying guy who always complained about her appearance, calling her "uncle-like," and nagged her about her unhealthy lifestyle.
What she didn’t expect was for him to make her end up in a cast!
Damn it, with her fingers in a cast, how was she supposed to game?
Frustrated, she demanded he take responsibility for the mishap.
To her surprise, he readily agreed, promising he would make sure she was never bored…
Ugh, as much as she hated to admit it, the man did have a lot going for him.
Every time she interacted with him, her heart would do a little leap, like a schoolgirl with a crush.
Yet, no matter how obvious his feelings were, she refused to believe he genuinely wanted to pursue her.
After all, since their first meeting, he had tricked her so many times already.
If she fell for it this time, she'd definitely be laughed at as a fool…

Chapter 2

“Oh no, I'm late again. I'm going to catch a lecture for this.”
Eleanor Langston twisted her keys to open the front door, muttering to herself all the while.
Once inside the foyer, she quickly kicked off her small, frilly shoes, hung her keys on the wall rack, and hurried into the living room.
“Eleanor,” called Lady Constance Langston as she emerged from the kitchen. “Can you run to the store and grab me a bottle of soy sauce?”
“Oh, um, okay,” Eleanor replied, barely registering the request as she dashed into her room. She tossed her bag onto the far end of her L-shaped desk, swiftly powered up her computer and modem, then turned to her vanity. With a flick of her wrist, she untied the bow cinched at her waist, and her dress fluttered to the floor like a sugary ring. She used her foot to kick it aside, then pulled her chair up to the vanity, collapsing onto it.
With both hands, she lifted the hem of her oversized t-shirt along with the tank top beneath, throwing them onto the chair. Next, she snatched a loose, camel-colored tee from the hanger and slipped it on, pairing it with some comfy shorts. She gathered her long hair into a bun and secured it with a shark clip. Finally, she plopped down in her desk chair, ready as the computer powered up.
Her slender fingers danced over the mouse, clicking on a vibrant icon labeled “City in the Clouds.” The game logged in instantly and began loading.
Just then, her bag chimed—a Message from her LINE app.
Reaching for her white phone, Eleanor saw it was a message from her gaming “teammate.”
Mittens the Cat: Your Majesty, you’re five minutes late.
Below was an angry emoji.
Mittens the Cat was an online acquaintance she met through “City in the Clouds.” In the real world, he was a burly forty-something man sporting a thick beard, but online he wore a cute persona, often splurging on charming LINE stickers.
Eleanor never bothered to buy stickers herself, so she saw him as a man with a pink heart—truly a pseudosuch a man. He played as a female character, spending loads of cash on gorgeous outfits that made him resemble a character from a dress-up game.
Mittens the Cat was incredibly strict about time; being even a minute late prompted a tirade, while a five-minute delay felt like a personal betrayal to him. Eleanor imagined what he might say if she were to be an hour late; maybe he’d block her altogether.
Well, it wasn’t entirely her fault; the new design director had called a last-minute meeting before the end of the day. He mentioned that last season’s sales were poor, and this season was showing the same signs of fatigue. As a result, he ordered all designers to submit one hundred design drafts by the end of the month, expecting sales for the next season to double.
One hundred designs, really?
It seemed like every new director felt the need to make a name for themselves.
With a resentful sigh, Eleanor typed out her reply.
Victoria Lancaster: Just loading, hold on!
“Victoria” was her English name, and it was also her in-game ID. Naturally, because she went by “Victoria,” Mittens the Cat dubbed her “The Queen.”
Just as she hit send, the game screen appeared.
“City in the Clouds” was a 3D multiplayer online game with five initial character classes—Warrior, Mage, Priest, Rogue, and Archer. After reaching level ninety-nine, characters could specialize in advanced roles.
Eleanor had chosen to be a Priest, the designated healer. Since starting the game three months ago, she had already leveled up to seventy, becoming one of the top Priests on the server.
As soon as she logged in, Mittens the Cat dragged her into the dungeon lobby.
Every evening at six-thirty, they grouped up for multiplayer raids limited to five players that usually took about thirty minutes.
Once they finished the raid, Eleanor still had a mountain of quests to complete, which meant she’d probably be gaming until around one in the morning before finally hitting the pillow.

Chapter 3

Aside from that, the weekends brought other activities, especially a large-scale dungeon raid with teams of eight to twenty players. The rare loot and equipment dropped by the bosses could be sold for a high price, and Eleanor Langston had never missed one of these events. This was her main source of funding for her gaming adventures, as she didn’t want to spend too much of her own money on it.
In the kitchen, Lady Constance Langston was waiting for her daughter to go buy some seasonings, but Eleanor was taking her sweet time with the computer. Entering her daughter’s room, Lady Constance found Eleanor deftly controlling the keyboard and mouse, fully absorbed in her so-called “raid.”
She was familiar with the household finances, but the concept of a dungeon raid was still a mystery to her.
Eleanor had been obsessed with online gaming ever since she started playing over three years ago. The moment she got off work, she would plop down in front of her computer, only stepping away for the bathroom.
As Lady Constance stared at the flashing screen filled with dizzying effects, her brows knitted together in concern; it all seemed too bright and gaudy.
“Eleanor, can you help me buy some seasonings?” Lady Constance urged again.
“Sure, just a moment,” Eleanor said without turning her head, focused on the intense action on her screen.
“Hurry up!” Lady Constance replied, tapping the back of the chair. “I need to make a stew.”
“Okay—” Eleanor elongated her response, leaving it uncertain whether she had actually heard her mother at all.
After finishing multiple raids and completing a couple of quests, Eleanor finally remembered her mother had asked her to do something.
When she walked into the kitchen, she saw three dishes and a soup already prepared. Her younger brother, William Langston, who was still in college, and their father, Lord Henry Langston, were seated at the dining table and enjoying dinner.
“Mom, did you need something?” she asked, shoving a piece of cold octopus into her mouth.
Lady Constance shot her a glare. “I asked you to buy some seasonings.”
“Wait a second,” Eleanor replied nonchalantly. A long minute had passed—over thirty minutes, leaving everyone waiting painfully.
“Oh,” Eleanor said as she glanced at the clock in the living room. “There are still ten minutes left. I should be able to make it.”
“Ten minutes for what?”
“I have a PvP match coming up.”
Player versus Player battles were one of the tasks, which basically meant “killing” other players.
The PvP arena opened at 7:30 PM and closed at 8:30 PM. Winning against another player earned her some honor points, which could be accumulated to exchange for stronger weapons. So every day she needed to “kill,” and the more kills she had, the more honor points she earned. As the time approached, Eleanor Langston always scrambled to get ready.
As she dashed toward the hallway and slipped into her slippers, Lady Constance's voice called coldly from behind. “I already bought them. By the time you go to get them, everyone else will be starving.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Eleanor snapped, kicking off her shoes and returning to the dining room without a hint of guilt on her face.
“Gee, sis, you're next-level obsessed with gaming,” William remarked, unimpressed.
“You’ve played your PS3 for hours on end, haven’t you?” Eleanor retorted as she grabbed a small bowl from the cabinet.
“Please, I’m lucky if I can manage two or three hours. You’re the one playing until midnight.”
“You wouldn’t understand; I have so many quests to complete, plus I have work—there’s no way I can finish everything without staying up late.”
Eleanor filled her bowl halfway with rice and piled on some of the side dishes from the table.
“Can’t you ever just sit at the dining table to eat with us?” Lord Henry said with irritation.
Eleanor seemed glued to her computer the moment she got home from work, even eating her meals in front of the screen. The only time he saw her leave her chair was when she went to the bathroom.
He had always thought that gaming addiction was typically a problem for boys, so it surprised him that his beautiful daughter was just as immersed in it. She spent weekends not going out on dates but rather glued to her computer as well.
For years, he had worried about her beauty, thinking she might inherit the best traits from both parents and attract men, maybe even becoming a grandmother before her time. But now that his daughter was thirty and still hadn’t given him a grandson to call him “Grandpa,” he realized it was turning into a tragedy.
“Dad, I’m off to the PvP match; it’s almost 7:30,” Eleanor said, her fingertips grazing the hot bowl’s edge as she hurried back to her room.

Chapter 4

"It means someone is being killed," William Langston explained.
"Killed?" Lord Henry Langston blinked in disbelief. "What do you mean, killed?"
"Online players are killed, but it’s not real; they can respawn," William clarified.
"Oh." Lord Henry Langston's tension eased, but he couldn’t help grumbling, "Every day it’s just this shooting and fighting. She locks herself up at home after work, doesn’t go out or date on weekends, and at thirty, she hasn’t even had a boyfriend. Don’t even think about her getting married at this rate."
"She’s been single for quite a while," William teased.
"What's with this 'single' stuff?" Lord Henry Langston frowned, still confused.
"It’s what we call people who stay cooped up at home all day—not going out. We call them 'homebodies' or 'single ladies.'"
"She plays that game, I think she has other people with her, too," Lady Constance Langston said, serving dinner next to her husband. "What if she meets a bad online friend? Didn't someone get duped by an online acquaintance and ended up running away from home or worse?"
"That mostly happens to naive young people, I guess. She’s thirty and doesn’t even want to leave the house; it shouldn't be easy to trick her," William said, munching on his food.
"Getting duped at thirty would be quite a joke," Lord Henry Langston scoffed.
"But, there are plenty of stories about older women getting scammed," Lady Constance Langston worried. "They give men a lot of money—some even millions."
"Don't worry, Mom," William laughed. "She’s super stingy; scamming her is harder than dragging her out of that game."
"What if she encounters a twist of fate one day?" Lady Constance still didn’t feel reassured.
"Then we should call a priest for an exorcism or something," William said casually.
"What's this twist of fate nonsense?" Lord Henry Langston looked at his wife sharply. "Stop bringing up your strange superstitions."
"Maybe she should just play less and go find a boyfriend to get married. Look at your brother, he’s four years younger and already has kids. Your sister hasn’t had a boyfriend in years. Three or four years now."
"Just over three years," William noted quietly, "She’s going to start growing cobwebs if this keeps up."
"Cobwebs?" Their parents looked perplexed.
"Never mind," William chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Let’s eat. One day when she gets tired of the game, she’ll find someone to date and break the single lady streak."
But when would that be?
The two older adults simultaneously sighed at that disheartening thought.
Meanwhile, Eleanor Langston’s delicate hands danced over her drawing tablet, her pink lips moving as she muttered to herself.
"Wings... I fly, I fly high... Let’s add some leopard spots... one spot, two spots, three spots... let’s give a tiger head to the shoe tongue... fly, sky, dragon, tiger, leopard." Eleanor Langston admired her work, giving it a thumbs up. "Gaudy but powerful, I love it."
Just then, her phone buzzed with a notification.
"Who’s messaging me?" she wondered as she reached for her phone.
Isabella Sinclair: Your boss is right behind you, and he’s furious.
Isabella Sinclair was sitting across from her, meaning—
Eleanor leaned back and, indeed, saw her boss, Sir Edmund Maverick, returning. He had his arms crossed and a furrowed brow, glaring at her "masterpiece."
"Alistair, what do you think? Cool, right?"
Sir Edmund Maverick’s sharp, dark eyes fixed on Eleanor, landing at an unfortunate angle.
He nudged the back of her chair with his knee.
Eleanor was jolted, nearly tumbling from her seat.
"Office violence! I’m calling the cops."
"Calling the cops for domestic abuse? I’m not that unlucky to have a clueless woman as a wife," Sir Edmund Maverick remarked, the disdain clear in his voice.
Seven years ago, Sir Edmund had been a designer at the same firm. After taking time abroad for further studies, he was lured back to the company earlier this month. While reviewing personnel files, he discovered that this woman he had known since seven years ago was still a designer and hadn’t been promoted. Her modest salary had barely increased over those years, and out of curiosity, he asked the HR manager about her.
The manager revealed that four years ago, she was actually offered a promotion, which she accepted, but the actual reasons for her reluctance to advance remained unclear. Though the company wanted to elevate her again, she consistently declined to leave her position as a basic designer.

Chapter 5

Since the HR manager had only joined three years ago, he was unfamiliar with the actual situation.
Sir Edmund Maverick reviewed more files and discovered that Eleanor Langston's boyfriend, Alexander Worthington, had also left the company four years ago.
At that moment, he was certain that the two events were related, and subsequent investigations confirmed his suspicions.
“Pfft, it’s like just taking a little break and disappearing,” Eleanor Langston scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Why don’t you sponsor my trip to France for studies, and I’ll come back in three years to take you down?" She laughed at the thought.
Sir Edmund Maverick placed a heavy hand on her head, pushing her down in her chair.
“Even if you spent ten years abroad, you’d still just be sketching portraits along the Seine,” he pointed at the screen displaying a design draft. “Are you planning to moonlight as a fortune teller or something?”
He didn’t give Eleanor Langston a chance to retort before turning to stride towards the director’s office at the other end.
Eleanor Langston grabbed an eraser from her desk and tossed it at him.
Unfortunately, her throw lacked force and missed entirely, forcing her to begrudgingly retrieve it.
Barely sitting back down, she received another LINE message from Isabella Sinclair.
Isabella Sinclair: You can just call him Alistair directly. He won’t mind.
Victoria Lancaster: Are you kidding? I’m his senior! He should call me “Sister Eleanor.”
Seven years ago, Eleanor started working at the company the same year as Sir Edmund Maverick. Although he was three years older, her earlier start meant that she was indeed his senior.
Five years back, Sir Edmund Maverick resigned to study abroad in France. It was said he stayed on after graduation; his impressive performance led to him being brought back by the French headquarters to reclaim his position as the head of design at her workplace, “Rem Shoeworks of Avalon,” when sales were on the decline.
Isabella Sinclair: I’m enjoying a cheesy pizza right now.
Victoria Lancaster: You're weird. He’s sitting right across from me. Can’t you just talk to him? Why use LINE?
Even if LINE was free and whispering across a desk might be awkward, there’s still such a thing as the office phone!
Isabella Sinclair: You know, the walls have ears!
Victoria Lancaster: Please, there were no ears in the walls when Sir Edmund Maverick hadn’t parachuted in last month.
Isabella Sinclair: He’s the golden bachelor with the brightest future here. I’m just gathering intel for the other departments!
Victoria Lancaster: Never heard of keeping the good stuff for yourself.
Isabella Sinclair: Our department has eight designers, and you’re the only dried-up well. It's clear you want to keep him all to yourself.
Victoria Lancaster: zzz (speechless).
Isabella Sinclair: The other departments are willing to pay top dollar for his gossip. You know him best, and true friendship shows in tough times! You have to help me out to prove our friendship is solid.
True friendship in tough times, huh?
As if!
Eleanor thought Isabella Sinclair was a real chatterbox for saying such shameless things.
Victoria Lancaster: Split it 60-40. I get 60, you get 40.
Isabella Sinclair: That’s outrageous!
Victoria Lancaster: No negotiations here.
Isabella Sinclair: Managing the business side is hard work!
Victoria Lancaster: 60-40. Take it or leave it.
A stream of crying emoji flooded her LINE.
Eleanor Langston turned her phone to sleep mode, then went to work fixing her “Jet-Fueled Panther” design until it looked like an actual shoe.
Not long after, Isabella Sinclair sent another LINE message.
Isabella Sinclair: Alright, you win. I’ll go with whatever you choose.
She even intentionally spelled "good" as "good."
“Ha!” Eleanor Langston felt triumphant and responded with an “OK” emoji.
Her reputation as a penny-pincher was well-known, and if she didn’t take this chance to squeeze a little extra cash, she just wouldn’t be Eleanor Langston. Hehe.

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