Chapter 66 - A mermaid on land

"I can't believe it's already 8 in the morning. Carita must have been waiting for me!" Malik muttered under his breath, exasperated, as he sprinted down the streets toward his apartment. He had just logged out of God's Realm, only to realize that the day was already in full bloom. Morning light painted the sky with golden streaks, birds chirped like they were gossiping about his lateness, and Malik could almost hear the wind mocking his sluggish real-world reflexes.

After darting through several corners, he finally arrived at his apartment—only to spot a pristine white SUV parked right in front. A small crowd of his nosy neighbors had gathered, whispering behind curtains and over balconies. Resting casually against the SUV was a man dressed to kill—white suit, polished shoes, puffing a blunt like he was in a mafia movie, eyes scanning the distant horizon with a predator's calm.

Malik didn't need to be told—he instantly knew the man was here for him. No formal greeting. No "Are you Malik?" Nothing of the sort. Just one look, and Malik knew this was the kind of guy who didn't knock—he summoned.

Without sparing him a word, Malik brushed past and unbolted the door to his apartment.

"You've got 20 minutes," the man called out, his voice calm, laced with an air of finality.

A smirk curled on Malik's lips as he kicked the door shut behind him. "I won't even need ten."

Stripping as he moved, Malik grabbed a towel and stormed into his bathroom like a general leading a charge. "Only kids bathe with warm water," he murmured, grabbing the sponge. "Legends leave that nonsense to nature."

Cold water smacked against his skin, but Malik gritted his teeth and bore it with pride. Minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping from his hair, tracing rivulets down his bare chest as he walked towards the mirror.

"Is it just me, or has my hair grown longer? And my chest—broader?" He leaned in, inspecting himself like a sculptor admiring his latest creation. "Are those Chinese webnovels actually onto something? Is roleplaying in the game affecting my real-life state? Does this mean... I can cultivate?"

Eyes blazing with curiosity, he dropped into a lotus position and closed his eyes, breathing slow and deep. Silence enveloped the room as Malik sharpened his senses like a blade on a whetstone. But after twenty minutes of sitting still like a monk on a mountain, a long sigh escaped his lips.

"Tch… guess I've been making a fool out of myself after all."

He stood, shaking his head as he reached for his boxers, then unwrapped the clothes Carita had personally picked for him. A white shirt and tailored black pants—he slipped into them with ease. The fit? Absolutely divine.

"There's still a tie." He muttered, picking up the sleek black accessory and looping it around his neck with an awkward hand. He smoothed some cream over his face and dabbed a little on his elbows and neck.

"I don't have a coat, but I've got the perfect sneakers to match this up."

Nearly an hour later, Malik stepped out of his apartment looking crisp. He locked the door behind him and made his way toward the suited man, who now had his arms crossed like a bouncer guarding Heaven's gates.

"What took you so long? Were you giving birth in there?" the man asked, voice flat with sarcasm.

"Pardon me. I wasn't," Malik replied with a slight bow.

The man snorted. "Just get in the ride. We've got a long journey ahead."

He turned around and entered the SUV, taking the driver's seat. Malik slid into the front passenger side, adjusting his tie with a touch of flair.

"Fasten your seatbelt, boy. We're headed to Port Harcourt."

Malik gave a nod and did as instructed. The car roared to life and sped off like a beast awakened.

"You're the Young Miss' coursemate?"

Malik raised a brow. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Not really," the man replied, eyes glued to the road like a hawk in pursuit. "It's just… we had trouble giving you a tag name. Can't have your real identity floating around if you're gonna play bodyguard. Too risky. So you'll go by a code name. Since it was all rushed, we only had time to come up with two. First one had an error, but the second should suffice. Check the drawer."

Malik reached forward and opened the glove box. Inside were two name tags.

One read: FUO

Malik blinked. "Isn't that... the name of my school?"

No response. The driver just kept his eyes on the road, unfazed.

Malik sighed and picked up the second tag. This one had five letters: De Law

"This has Carita written all over it… They probably picked that based on my student record." Malik smirked. "I guess 'De' is the typo he mentioned. But there's no way I'm going by FUO. Sounds too bland. Like a random school file."

He clipped the De Law tag to his right breast and shoved the other back into the drawer.

"Wrong choice. And wrong placement," the man muttered.

Wrinkles formed on Malik's forehead. 'I'm left-handed, dummy. The right side's just more convenient.' He kept that thought to himself, though, and leaned back into his seat to endure the long, yawning stretch of road.

After about two hours of cruising, they finally arrived at the venue. From the cars parked around, Malik could tell the event was either about to begin—or had already been underway. The driver maneuvered through a few automobiles and parked among a fleet of spotless white cars.

"Alright, De Law. Time to alight." The man killed the engine.

Malik glanced down at his tag and then to the driver's own.

"Wait… Driver?"

"It's only now you noticed?" The man raised a brow. "Are you sure you're fit for this?"

Malik shook his head honestly. "Nope."

For the first time, the man burst into hearty laughter.

"I see... Just watch and learn."

He emphasized the word "see" like it was a secret between warriors, then stepped out of the car. Malik followed closely behind.

Without warning, the man stopped and pointed at a pristine white Rolls-Royce up ahead.

"This is as far as I go, De Law. The rest is up to you."

Malik took a deep breath and walked forward with purpose. His stride lengthened as he approached the car. He reached the passenger side and pulled the door open.

And then, she stepped out.

A young woman emerged like a character from a dream—no, a myth. Carita exuded power and grace in equal measure. Her crisp white blouse hugged her figure just right, paired with tailored pencil trousers that stopped just above her ankles. A fitted blazer sat perfectly on her shoulders, the kind that screamed "Boss" without ever raising its voice. Her hair was styled into a smooth, professional bun, and her shoes glistened like they'd just been kissed by light.

"Miss Carita…" Malik breathed, utterly stunned.

"It's Boss, you dummy," Carita corrected him, grinning wide as she caught the shock plastered on his face.

Their eyes locked, and for a second, time stood still.

'Am I dreaming? What's a mermaid doing on land?'