An unbearable tension blanketed Velvet; her expression froze in confusion as the question struck her. It was almost as if she hadn't expected me to ask it—like she was caught off guard, and that was… unusual. Velvet wasn't the type to be easily thrown off. She was calculating, always on top of things.
So the slight flicker of hesitation on her face was… odd.
"None of your business," she replied flatly—a response that only stirred more questions, and maybe even more than I was willing to ask.
Was that a dismissive rejection, or was it just a deflection? A hollow shield against something she didn't want to face? Whatever it was, it wasn't clear, and the lack of finality in her voice was more unsettling than I cared to admit.
Whether it was a veiled rejection or just an attempt to obscure the truth, her voice carried no true finality.
No strength.
No certainty.
Just words meant to fill the space and stop the probing.
Yet, that alone felt wrong. Velvet didn't flounder for words.
In the silence between us, thick with uncertainty, a sudden notification shattered the stillness.
PIP PIP!
[THE LIBIDO EXPERIMENT EVENT HAS BEEN CONCLUDED. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PARTICIPATION. – just now]
Damn… "participation," huh? I almost lost it completely.
I couldn't believe how the word felt so detached, so clinical, as if the whole thing was nothing more than a scientific trial, and we were nothing more than lab rats. A chill ran down my spine at the thought. I had almost lost control, almost let myself become part of the experiment they wanted me to be—part of their game.
Not this time, though. I was still standing.
There was anger simmering under my skin, sharp and almost unbearable, but it was overshadowed by a strange, faint sense of relief.
I'd held myself back. This time. But just barely.
I noticed Velvet had also frozen, her eyes locked on the screen, her body still. Then, with a long exhale, she let out a breath, almost as if a heavy burden had just lifted from her shoulders.
Or… was it merely the illusion of calm before the real storm?
I couldn't help but wonder. However, I didn't trust her enough to think it was genuine.
"So, what's the next move?" she asked, trying to break the end of deadlock.
It wasn't an innocent question. It wasn't out of curiosity either. She was testing me. Probing my willingness to move forward, to give her the upper hand. Her tone held that same subtle challenge I had come to expect from her.
"The way you're asking makes it sound like you have the right to negotiate with me," I shot back, my tone edged with steel, not letting her have the power she seemed to want.
"Oh? So you refuse to negotiate?" she challenged, lips curling into a thin, thorned smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. It was like watching a snake prepare to strike.
Calculated, but… familiar.
"Who said I refuse? I never agreed—but I never said no either."
The words felt sharp on my tongue, a slight lilt of satisfaction running through me at the small victory. But she hadn't caught the nuance, had she? No, she never did. She was too wrapped up in her own game to care about the finer details of mine.
She clearly misunderstood me. It wasn't about the content of the negotiation—it was about the way she tried to control it. That alone was the issue. It was a power struggle. One she didn't even realize she was losing.
My attention shifted to the blinking alarm icon—a new notification.
[D-DRIVE GAME TRIAL – ROUND 1 WILL BEGIN IN 6 HOURS. PLEASE CONSERVE YOUR ENERGY AND TAKE A REST. – just now]
The text didn't help clear anything up. In fact, it only added to the tension hanging in the air. I glanced at VelvetVice, who appeared to have received the same message, her fingers frozen over her own device as she read the text.
A conclusion began to form. I'd been in this VR world for approximately three to five hours. The digital clock in the room now read 23:59.
It was based on a glimpse of 20:00 I'd caught when I first entered the room.
Meaning that, if I were to be rather precise, it's been four hours since. But if I calculated that in real-world time… could it have been only thirty minutes?
No way. How could time have been this distorted?
I couldn't make sense of it, and that unsettled me more than I cared to admit. If time was so messed up here, what else was?
"All right, enough small talk. Let's discuss our next move together," said Velvet, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts.
Her voice felt like a blade cutting through the fog of my mind. I stared at her for a moment, not sure if I even wanted to entertain her idea.
"No. I'm not interested," I replied sharply, my words falling like stones into the already tense atmosphere.
Work with her? I'd rather get raped than willingly give her control over me. Even if the alternative meant losing myself completely in front of the enemy—that, at least, would be on my terms. At least that would be a situation I could understand.
What I hate most is people who try to control others. There's a line, and Velvet had crossed it before, trying to take charge of things that weren't hers to manage. I'd tolerate it from someone else, but not her. Not anymore. Unless it's my lover… but that's a different story—and a much messier problem.
"In that case, how about a prediction match?" she offered, her eyes glinting with something that might have been amusement. "
A little wager on what'll happen before Round 1 starts."
Heh. This femboy knows how to make a deal sound tempting…
Before I knew it, I'd nodded. It wasn't out of agreement—it was out of the challenge.
One brow arched in skepticism, but the flicker of interest was unmistakable in my eyes. That offer—clearly—was another test of control.
But if she thought I'd roll over that easily… what a pity.
"Fine. If I win, you follow my instructions. And vice versa."
Sorry, but victory isn't something I trade on the cheap.
Not so too easy. Especially when it's tied to something as fragile as this.
"I don't agree. If I win, you stay away from me. If I lose, same result."
I really wanted to see her frustration at my refusal, but all I got was a faint smile that hinted… interest?
We were both stubborn. But maybe… I was the most stubborn of all.
"All right. One last offer," she said. Her tone shifted—like a predator sensing weakness, or maybe just some sorts of confident, thinking she had me cornered.
"Win or lose, we keep moving together. If I win, you act my way—but still use your own expertise. Same if you win. That way, you're not disrupted, and I can still work with you. Deal?"
Intriguing… this femboy's got unexpected charm at negotiations.
The offer was tempting. If I won, I could keep my distance and still claim, "This is just how I operate." No loss of face, no compromise to my pride.
But if I thought more deeply, maybe this wasn't just a teamwork strategy. Maybe it was a quiet admission—that we needed each other, even if pride still built the walls. She wasn't dumb; she knew how to pull the strings.
I gave a slow nod. "Fine. I accept. On one condition."
She went quiet, resting her chin on her hand. Her gaze held a curiosity she couldn't quite hide, though it was masked with professional detachment.
"What's the condition?" she asked at last, her voice no longer sharp—just… interested.
"Until the result comes out, you have to keep your distance. Communication's fine—but no getting physically close."
I figured that was fair. She'd already thrown more than enough surprises my way. I'd had enough of being caught off guard. My dignity as a hacker had nearly crumbled—twice. Especially when my true face was exposed by the player who invited me into this game.
"Okay. Deal," she answered firmly.
Maybe this was the only way we could technically work together. Though in practice… we'd still be walking separate paths, neither of us truly trusting the other.
"All right then. No point dragging this out," I said, my voice steady. "Let's bet."
"So, in your own prediction…"
"What's going to happen next?"