How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game

The moonlight cast a silver glow over the city as night settled in.

The once-bustling streets of the commercial district still hummed with activity, though compared to the daytime, the energy had slightly dimmed.

Lanterns flickered along the roads, casting warm golden hues over the cobblestone pathways, and the distant chatter of merchants and customers created a lively yet subdued ambiance.

Beneath the public section of East Blue Café, within the concealed underground chamber that only a select few had access to, the atmosphere was vastly different.

"Haaah!! Fuck this!"

A loud, irritated voice shattered the relative silence of the dimly lit room.

A burly, middle-aged man groaned as he slammed himself down onto a chair, his frustration evident in the way he carelessly tossed his chef's hat onto the corner of the table.

The day had finally ended, but the stress clinging to his body refused to dissipate.

He reached into his jacket, pulling out a pack of cigars with rough, calloused fingers.

With a flick of his middle finger, a small flame ignited at the tip, and he lit the cigar with practiced ease.

Puffing out a thick cloud of smoke, he exhaled sharply, his frustration seeping into the air.

As he leaned back into his seat, he carelessly propped his boots onto the large circular table in the center of the room.

The four other individuals already seated there barely reacted to his outburst.

They had long since grown accustomed to his antics.

However, their indifference was soon interrupted by the sharp voice of a young woman who had just entered the private chamber.

"Bulko! How many times have I told you not to throw your chef hat around like that?!" she snapped, her tone laced with annoyance as she shot a glare in his direction.

The burly man—Bulko—grunted in response, not bothering to remove his feet from the table.

The woman crossed her arms, clicking her tongue in disapproval before continuing, "Do you even know how hard it is to clean that? This isn't just some ordinary chef's hat! It's a premium hat, one I obtained from that top-tier chef we… offered to the Great Being. You should treasure it—it's been blessed by his divine influence, after all."

Her words carried an almost reverent undertone, but Bulko merely rolled his eyes, taking another slow drag from his cigar.

"Tch. Like I give a damn about some 'blessing.' That old bastard cooked one good meal, and that was the end of it. Ain't like his hat's gonna make me a better chef," he muttered, exhaling another thick cloud of smoke.

The woman's expression twitched with irritation, but instead of arguing further, she simply sighed, rubbing her temples.

The night had barely begun, yet already, the tension in the room was rising.

"Hey, don't say that! The Great Being personally blessed his soul, you know? That blessing should naturally extend to his belongings as well!" Martha argued, crossing her arms as she shot Bulko a disapproving glare.

Bulko scoffed, dragging a hand down his face in frustration. "Great Being, my ass. We haven't even made a proper offering since we got here! Didn't you just kidnap some random chef off the streets?"

He exhaled sharply, slamming his cigar onto the ashtray.

"And Martha, do you even know how damn hard it is to work in the kitchen with that ridiculous, oversized white hat? It's practically begging to get dirty every five fucking seconds!"

"I told you to pick the smaller one, didn't I?"

Martha countered with a huff, rolling her eyes as she leaned against the table.

"Oh, come on now! We need to maintain a dignified disguise, you know? The height of a chef's hat signifies one's value and skill! It's only natural for a top-tier restaurant like ours to uphold such appearances~" she added in a singsong tone, as if she had rehearsed the line a hundred times before.

Bulko clicked his tongue in annoyance, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed.

"Tsk! This fucking rush hour is already killing me, man. And seriously, when the hell are we allowed to act? We've been holed up in this damn place for almost a month now, and nothing's changed except for more waiting and waiting. I swear, I'm gonna lose my damn mind if I have to cook another overpriced steak for some snot-nosed noble brat!"

Martha let out a light chuckle, as if amused by his frustration.

"Hm~ I understand your complaints, I really do," she mused, tapping a manicured finger against her chin. "But our head's movements are still… tied down for now. The paladins from the Holy Kingdom have been getting restless lately. Even if it hasn't been publicly announced, their movements are growing suspiciously frequent, and that means we're forced to lay low for the time being~"

As she spoke, she gracefully settled herself into a chair, sighing in relief as she finally took a moment to relax.

With a casual motion, she peeled off her outer uniform, revealing a thin sweater underneath.

The fabric was worn, with a few small holes along the sides, and as she leaned back, the neckline dipped just enough to expose a teasing glimpse of her cleavage.

Bulko rolled his eyes at her theatrics, but he didn't comment. Instead, he ran a hand through his messy hair, letting out a groan.

"Tch… just how much longer do we have to settle down like this?"

"Bulko, you say all that, but aren't you just getting impatient because you can't have your way with that girl?"

The voice came from across the table—a thin, sickly-looking man adjusting his glasses with a lazy smirk.

Unlike the brawny and brutish Bulko, Roma was all wiry limbs and sunken cheeks, the telltale signs of long-term substance abuse clear in his gaunt face.

His yellowed fingers drummed idly on the table as he grinned, clearly enjoying poking at Bulko's frustrations.

"Hoho~ And which girl are we talking about?" Martha chimed in, her smirk widening as she leaned forward with interest. She rested her chin on the back of her hand, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

Bulko's face darkened instantly. "Shut the fuck up, Roma! I'm not that down bad!" he snapped, veins bulging at his temple. Then, his glare shifted to Martha. "And you, you sly bitch—stop getting so damn curious!"

"Aww, come on~ Just tell me already," Martha teased, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. "I'll even help you out~"

Bulko clicked his tongue in annoyance, but Martha wasn't done pressing.

"Hmm, let me guess…" She tapped her cheek, pretending to think. "Is it that brown-haired brunette? I know she's got some nice curves on her, but didn't she already pop out three kids? Not to mention, her husband's a pretty well-known silk merchant. If we mess with her, we'd have the whole merchant association breathing down our necks~"

Bulko tensed but said nothing, his silence only fueling Martha's amusement.

"Orrr~ maybe it's that red-haired chick you kept eyeing a while back?" Her smirk deepened as she caught the subtle twitch in Bulko's jaw. "But aren't we supposed to not touch the students yet? I mean, sure, it's a bummer, but orders are orders~ If you do decide to make a move, just know—you're on your own for this one, Bulko."

Bulko clenched his fists. His patience was already thin from weeks of waiting, and having these two poke fun at him only made things worse.

"Tch," he spat, kicking back in his chair. "Like I need your help, anyway."

"Hoh~ but you did need our help after all," Martha cooed, her tone playful yet laced with knowing amusement. "You're the most emotional one out of all of us, after all."

Bulko rolled his eyes, choosing to stay silent.

He wanted to retort—that the only reason he seemed emotional was because he wasn't as insane as the rest of them. Read latest chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

The others at the table had long since abandoned any semblance of restraint, their minds twisted by zealotry, pleasure, or sheer bloodlust.

Compared to them, his urges were tame—just simple, human desires.

But arguing was pointless.

He knew better than to provoke Martha and the others.

They were the kind of lunatics who might just cause unnecessary trouble for fun if it amused them enough.

If he so much as hinted at frustration, Martha might stir things up just to entertain herself.

Still, he wasn't stupid.

Even if he did want to take the red-haired student by force, it wasn't something he could do on a whim—even with Martha's help.

That girl was no ordinary student.

Taking on a young woman of her caliber would be nothing short of suicidal, especially with that golden-eyed boy always near her.

Bulko's lips curled in annoyance.

It was a shame, really.

But soon enough, none of that would matter.

Once the great being was summoned, there would be no need for caution.

Roma, who had been watching him with his ever-present smirk, let out a chuckle. "Yes, Martha~ it was that red-haired chick." His voice was practically dripping with mockery. "I always knew Bulko liked them young, but to think this old man would fall for a student—a bit disgusting, no?"

Bulko immediately scowled. "The only disgusting thing here is your face, you fucking twig."

"Haah!? How about I wring those overgrown muscles of yours dry?!" Roma shot back, his glasses flashing as he leaned forward aggressively.

"Try me, you fucking scarecrow!" Bulko growled, already rising from his seat.

"AHAHAHAHA!" Martha burst into laughter, clapping her hands in delight. "Fight~ fight~ kill each other~!" she sang, leaning back in her chair. "Don't worry, I'll revive both of you after~"

Her grin widened as she watched them, her eyes gleaming with an almost childlike glee.

Bulko knew that if they actually started fighting, she'd let it happen—just to see how far they'd go before one of them snapped.

'Fucking Bitch! maybe I should let her get a taste of her own medicine… no knowing her she'd probably enjoy it.'

-CLAP!

A single, sharp clap echoed through the room.

The rising tension immediately dissipated as all eyes turned toward the man sitting at the forefront of the table.

His ebony-black hair was neatly combed back, and his slightly slanted eyes carried a quiet authority that demanded attention.

Though he had yet to utter a single harsh word, his mere presence was enough to rein in the unruly group.

"Everyone, calm down." His voice was even, yet firm, carrying an underlying weight that left no room for argument. "You all know we have limited time for our meetings. Roma, stop with the obvious provocations. Bulko, control your temper. And Martha..."

He turned his gaze toward the woman, who was grinning mischievously, practically vibrating in her chair with anticipation.

"If you don't mind, you can leave early, dear."

Martha blinked in surprise before her face lit up with excitement. "Really~? Really~? I can?"

"Yes."

"Great~!!!"

Without a second of hesitation, Martha leapt from her chair, practically skipping toward the door.

The moment it shut behind her with a click, the tension in the room lightened considerably.

A woman seated across the table let out a long yawn, lazily stretching her arms above her head.

She had clearly just woken from a short nap, her eyes still half-lidded as she spoke. "Are you sure you're just going to let her go like that, Alex?"

Alex remained composed, interlocking his fingers as he leaned forward. "Yes. I don't think anyone here disagrees with that decision, do they?"

A brief silence followed.

"No, not really..." the woman admitted, rubbing her eyes. "But you do know she's like a loose bomb, right?"

"It's fine. She may act unpredictably, but she knows her limits."

His confidence didn't seem to fully convince the others, but no one openly objected either. Even if they had their doubts, none of them wanted to challenge Alex directly.

Seeing the lingering unease gradually fade from the room, Alex allowed himself a small smile.

"Now then..." He straightened his posture, glancing around at the gathered members.

"Let's begin the meeting, shall we?"

....

"Hm~ Hm~ what to do~ what to do~? If I use them all up, my toys will die~ But if I don't, I'll get so very hungry...~"

Martha twirled a strand of her dark hair between her fingers, her lips curling into a playful pout as she strolled through the dimly lit alleyway behind the restaurant.

The cool night air kissed her exposed skin, but the thrill buzzing in her veins made her feel warm.

"Maybe I should hunt for some more~?" she mused aloud, tapping a finger against her chin. "But then Alex will get all grumpy again... He says I've been adding too many lately~"

She let out an exaggerated sigh before giggling to herself, her voice lilting with childish glee. "But I'm so hungry for beautiful men~! Maybe... just maybe... I should kill a few of them first? That way, I'll have room to find some more~!"

Martha clapped her hands together, beaming at her own brilliant idea. "Oh, Martha, you genius! You truly are the greatest, ahahaha~!"

Chuckling to herself, she turned a corner and arrived at her favorite little playground—the storage unit tucked away behind the restaurant.

It was a rather unassuming place, but the treasures it held inside was something she was greatly proud of.

With a dramatic flourish, she slammed her palm against the cold metallic doors, sending a deep thud echoing through the alley.

Then, with a grand push, she swung them open and stepped inside, her slow, deliberate footsteps filling the silence.

The dim overhead lights flickered weakly, casting eerie shadows along the concrete walls. The scent of sweat, fear, and dried blood clung to the stale air.

"Hello, everyone~!" she cooed, her voice echoing against the stone walls. "Have you been waiting patiently for your beloved master~?"

A chorus of weak, muffled sobs and restrained whimpers answered her.

Martha inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating mixture of fear and despair.

Her dark eyes gleamed with pleasure as she gazed upon her precious collection—men and women of remarkable beauty, bound and gagged, their bodies trembling as they cowered beneath her gaze.

"Ahh~ How adorable you all are~*" she whispered, licking her lips.

Her fingers twitched with excitement, her body thrumming with pleasure as she drank in their helpless expressions.

The tight leather pants she wore grew damp, the heat pooling between her legs as her anticipation reached a fever pitch.

"Now then~" she purred, stepping forward. "Which one of you shall I devour today~?"

"Hm~ I should leave the beautiful ones for last~ So, get ready, big boys~"

Martha's singsong voice echoed through the dimly lit storage unit, her dark eyes gleaming with twisted delight.

At her words, the tall men—who had been trembling just moments ago—suddenly stilled.

Their shaking ceased, their expressions going slack as if their very emotions had been wiped away.

A dark shadow loomed over their bodies, sinking into their skin, hollowing them out.

Their eyes, once filled with fear, glazed over—empty, lifeless. Something deep within them had been stripped away, leaving only a husk behind.

Then, without hesitation, they began to move.

Slow, methodical, as if their limbs no longer belonged to them.

Their hands reached for the buttons of their café uniforms, undoing them one by one in eerie synchronization.

Martha licked her lips.

Such good dolls~!

But just as she was about to step forward and revel in her twisted indulgence—

"So, this is where they all were."

A voice.

Calm, casual, yet laced with an undeniable sharpness.

Martha froze, her grin vanishing in an instant.

Her spine tingled as goosebumps spread across her arms.

A chill unlike any she had ever felt before slithered down her back, setting every nerve in her body on edge.

She spun around in a heartbeat, instinct driving her as she leapt backward into the storage unit, creating distance between herself and the unknown presence.

Her eyes burned red as a mixture of oozing darkness and crimson light flared to life, a deadly aura rippling off her body like a living entity.

But then—

She saw him.

A young man stood before her, his golden-blonde hair swaying ever so slightly from the force of her sudden retreat.

His blue eyes—piercing, frigid, and utterly unyielding—locked onto her with a stare that sent ice-cold dread flooding through her veins.

It wasn't just disdain she saw in those eyes.

It was something far worse.

An emotionless decree.

A silent statement that her very existence was meaningless.

A predator looking down at prey.

"Who... are you?" Martha rasped, her voice lower now, the demonic energy inside her surging—doubling down in preparation for a fight.

But before she could so much as move—

It hit her.

-FOOOSHHHH!!!

A pressure unlike anything she had ever felt before.

It slammed into her with the force of a collapsing mountain, washing over her in an instant.

Her knees buckled.

Her lungs constricted.

Her heartbeat staggered.

Her entire body collapsed to the ground.

A deep, suffocating heaviness crushed her, pinning her in place.

Her breath came in harsh, shallow gasps as the overwhelming force stripped her of all strength.

It was as if her very existence was being suppressed.

Like staring at a being she wasn't supposed to stare at.

Her trembling gaze flickered upward, struggling to meet his once more.

And in that moment, for the first time in her life—

Martha felt true, unshakable fear.

....

[Note: An Evil Entity has been identified within the user's current area.]

[Scanning surroundings…]

[Number of Evil Entities detected within a 200-meter radius: Confirmed - 6 Targets.]

[Extra Effect of [Ultimate Skill: Divine Will] will now take effect.]

— [Commanding Presence: Activated!]

[All within the area of effect are compelled to obey the user's commands, regardless of their own will. Resistance is futile.]

— [Evil Entity Enhancement: Activated!]

[When engaging an Evil Entity, the user's stats are increased by 500%. All abilities scale accordingly.]

— [Divine Ascension: Activated!]

[User's Divinity reaches its absolute limit, skyrocketing to 100%. All attacks infused with divinity are magnified beyond natural limits.]

[All sources of energy within the affected radius are forcibly converted into Divine Energy, cutting off external power sources from all entities within range.]

[Warning: User's current stats will now be upgraded beyond mortal limitations!]

[Initiating Temporary Divine Mortification…]

— [User's body will temporarily transcend human limits to sustain the rapid power increase.]

— [Potential risk detected: Soul Damage - 2% Chance.]

— [Do you wish to proceed?]

[Yes / No]

— [User has selected: YES.]

[Recalculating level…]

[Base Level: 141] → [+705]

[Temporary Level: 846]

[Boundary Between Mortal and Divine Has Been Breached!]

[Warning: The user has stepped beyond the mortal threshold.]

— [Your Divinity resonates with your newfound strength!]

— [Your Blessing stirs within you, awakening for the first time in its full glory!]

— [The shackles of mortality are cracking—your existence is starting to shift.]

[User's Level Cap Has Increased!]

[Previous Cap: 150] → [New Cap: 200]

[Congratulations! You have unlocked a hidden secret of the world.]

[Bonus Points shall be awarded!]

[The heavens tremble at your ascent.]

[The underworld tremble at your ascent.]

[The void tremble at your ascent.]

[Your presence alone distorts the balance of the battlefield.]

[Your presence is now visible to the great beings of the world!]

[Proceed with caution—your next actions may irreversibly alter fate.]