Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 53: Sleep before the Sail

As Ander finally pushed himself up from the chair, his wooden leg thumping against the floor with every step, a collective sigh passed through the group—subtle, but very real. He gave them one last glance, tipped his weather-worn sailor hat, and limped out of the inn with his two silent companions trailing behind him. The moment the door creaked shut behind him, Sophia visibly relaxed, her shoulders slumping.

"Gods," she whispered, pinching her nose. "I can finally breathe again."

Eleanor exhaled dramatically. "That stench was physically attacking me."

Jason chuckled. "Was it the rotting teeth or the years of rum oozing out of his pores that did it for you?"

"Both," Sophia said without hesitation. "I feel like I’m going to have nightmares about that smile."

Eleanor nodded. "He grinned at us like we were pieces of meat."

"I think he wanted to drink and eat us," Sophia added with a disgusted twist of her lips.

Meanwhile, Sera sat a few tables away, sipping something from a small cup. She hadn’t tried to rejoin the group and no one had invited her either. The air between her and the party was still tense—resentful, even. Her eyes flicked toward their table now and then, but she stayed where she was, resting one arm on the edge of the table, her fingers drawing slow patterns on the wood.

Marcus, on the other hand, was once again making his pilgrimage to the counter. He returned moments later with three more overflowing mugs of rum, his arms carefully cradling them like precious cargo. The foam was spilling slightly over the edges, but he looked like he’d be damned before letting a single drop fall to the ground. His eyes darted from left to right suspiciously as he sat down, shielding the mugs like a protective beast guarding his hoard.

Jason raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Whoa, Marcus... you planning to bathe in those or just marry them?"

"Try touching one," Marcus growled, his voice low and serious, "and I swear I’ll bite your hand off."

Jason laughed hard. "Damn, you’d think he was guarding royal jewels."

"You don’t understand," Marcus muttered. "I earned these."

Liam sat beside them, but his expression was distant. He hadn’t said much since Ander left. His fingers traced invisible patterns on the table, and his brows were furrowed in thought. He barely noticed the conversation or the rum mugs.

Jason nudged him. "Yo, Liam. Earth to Captain Death Stare. You good?"

Liam blinked slowly, then nodded. "Yeah... yeah, I’m fine."

But he wasn’t really. His mind was turning—about the mission, about the covenant, about Sera’s game, and now about Ander. There were too many layers to this so-called "quest." The system calling it a King Tier mission wasn’t just random. There was something deeper going on. Something big. Something dangerous.

And he had a feeling that by the end of this journey, none of them would come out the same.

"Just thinking," he finally said.

Jason raised his mug. "Well, don’t think too hard. Let the rum do the work."

Marcus glared. "Touch it, and you die."

Jason just grinned wider.

Sophia and Eleanor, despite their earlier disgust, had relaxed a little now. The worst of the evening was over—for now. But the weight of the coming days still loomed like storm clouds on the horizon.

And they hadn’t even boarded the ship yet.

After nearly two hours of eating, drinking, and throwing subtle jabs at each other across the table, the evening wore on and the energy in the inn began to settle into a more relaxed rhythm. The distant hum of conversations and the clatter of wooden mugs had become a low, comforting backdrop.

Sera eventually stood from her separate table and approached the group with a graceful, quiet stride. Her expression unreadable, she gestured for them to follow her without saying much. The group rose, gathering their things, their movements sluggish from the weight of the food and the looming exhaustion of travel.

"The rooms are ready," she said calmly, though no one thanked her.

The Dwarf was nowhere to be found, having already wandered off into whatever hole he slept in when he wasn’t busy scheming. The group followed Sera through a narrow corridor dimly lit by flickering lanterns hanging from iron hooks. The floor creaked under their steps and the air smelled faintly of salt and damp wood.

She led them to two small rooms at the far end of the hallway. "The boys in here," she pointed to the left door. "We girls will take the one across."

There was an awkward pause before anyone moved. Tension still clung to the air like a storm cloud. No one said anything until the girls turned to enter their room. Sera had just begun unlocking the door when Eleanor leaned in close to Sophia, speaking just loud enough for Sera to hear.

"Great, bunking with the seductress who practically blackmailed us with sex magic," she muttered.

Sophia huffed under her breath. "If Marcus had just kept it in his pants, we wouldn’t even be in this mess."

Sera paused briefly at the door. She didn’t turn to look at them, but her fingers tightened around the door handle before pushing it open and stepping inside.

Eleanor followed next, shaking her head. "Honestly, how dumb do you have to be to sleep with the first elf that bats her eyes at you?"

"Apparently," Sophia smirked, "about as dumb as Marcus."

Back in the other room, things were just as chaotic—but louder.

Marcus was a mess.

He was sprawled halfway across the bed, boots still on, one arm dangling off the side while the other clutched his final mug of rum like it was a newborn child. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, revealing his chest, and he kept mumbling incoherently about how unfair life was and how elves were the true villains of the world.

Jason stood beside the bed, arms crossed in frustration.

"I swear to the gods, Marcus, let go of the damn mug and lie down like a normal human being," Jason groaned.

"Can’t," Marcus slurred. "She—she tricked me, bro. You don’t understand. Her boobs were magical. I was enchanted..."

Liam leaned against the wall, watching the scene unfold with tired amusement. He didn’t speak, but there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Jason tried again. "Okay, wizard of poor choices, either you let go of the mug, or I pour it down your pants."

"Touch it and die," Marcus muttered, tightening his grip around the mug and rolling away from him.

"Gods above..." Jason muttered, rubbing his temples.

With one final effort, Jason grabbed Marcus by the shoulders and started shifting him properly into the bed, wrestling his boots off and trying not to gag at the strong scent of alcohol. Marcus gave one last groan before finally flopping down fully onto the mattress.

Liam sighed and walked over, grabbing a spare blanket from the corner. "He’ll wake up with a hangover and a bruised ego."

"Hopefully nothing else," Jason said, eyeing the mug still clutched in Marcus’s hand.

With Marcus finally snoring away, Liam sat on the edge of the second bed. Jason followed suit. For a brief moment, there was silence between them—save for Marcus’s snores and drunken mumbles.

"You think Sera’s gonna be trouble again?" Jason asked.

Liam didn’t answer immediately. "I think... she is trouble. But now we’re too deep in it to turn back."

Jason nodded slowly, his expression growing serious. "Yeah... guess we’d better hold on tight then."

Outside their room, the wind howled faintly through the wooden slats of the old inn. It was the kind of wind that hinted at change, at danger... and at the long journey that still lay ahead.