Meeting Stephen

Stephen had just logged out of Nostravia.

He spent most of his time inside the game now that it was his main source of income, but he still needed to log out every once in a while.

He couldn't afford his real body having muscle atrophy and malnutrition, despite his fictional avatar getting stronger and stronger each day.

Moreover, he still needed to live in the real world if he didn't want his friends to come bursting through his house, thinking he had become a rotten corpse.

Stretching his sore muscles, Stephen planned to do a quick jog to the gym to do his third exercise of the week.

But a loud ringing sound came from his phone, and the name "Sir Martin" popped up on it.

"Did he finally play the game!?"

Not wasting even another second, Stephen picked up the call.

"Hello sir, do you like the gam-"

"You brat! You better have a damn good excuse if you don't want your head smacked!

And I've already told you multiple times, stop calling me sir. You're not my intern anymore."

Martin's voice blasted through the speaker as if it were on a loudspeaker.

Whatever he was angry about before, Stephen was now on the receiving end of all that anger.

"Sir? What did I do to you? Did you not like the game? And sir, I've told you, I'm already used to calling you sir, I can't call you anything else."

A long sigh came from across the phone. Martin seemed to have calmed down a little.

"No, I like the game so much, I wanted to play it irresponsibly if I could.

But that kid that appeared right after I logged in, is such a bratty character necessary for the game?"

Stephen tilted his head, trying to understand what Martin was talking about.

"A kid?" But he couldn't understand Martin. 

Everyone spawned in a randomized area, and everybody's experience could be completely different from each other when they first logged into the game.

However, Martin's next explanation froze his whole body.

"Yes! That one kid who appeared the moment you finished creating your username. The one that gave out a unique skill just to mock me."

Stephen's tone became flat as he whispered into the phone.

"You met a kid who gave you a unique skill?"

"Yes! And he mocked me without letting me speak a single word!" Martin's anger seemed to return to his voice when the kid was mentioned.

But Stephen had realized something. He had a strong guess, but he needed to make sure of it first.

"Sir, we should meet up to continue our talk. Are you free right now?"

"Huh? Right now? Yes, I don't have anything to do, but why? Why do we need to meet up just to talk about a game?"

Stephen then changed out his gym clothes and picked up his car key.

"I will explain later, but this is very important. I will send the address to you. Please come soon."

"A...Alright…"

Hearing Martin's confirmation, Stephen quickly got into his car and started driving to their meeting point.

===========

"What the hell is this kid going on about?"

Despite Martin's confusion, he still drove out to the meeting place.

He didn't understand where the sudden change of tone came from and why the kid became genuinely serious out of nowhere.

But it all piqued his curiosity even more.

A 45-minute drive then turned to 30 as Martin barely hit the speed limit on the highway.

When he arrived at the crowded cafe Stephen had picked, he found the kid sitting at the corner spot, two drinks already served on top of the table.

Stephen saw Martin come through the door and waved at him.

"I hope you haven't changed your preference, sir. I got the blackest coffee they had, your favorite drink of choice."

Martin shook Stephen's hand and took a seat in front of him.

Just like Stephen said, a coffee, one as black as the void of space, sat in front of Martin. 

Right beside his coffee, stood a colorful drink that seemed to have every color of the rainbow, topped with whipped cream. Stephen evidently had drunk half of it.

"You still like drinking those sugar bombs concealed as drinks? You are getting closer to my age, Stephen. Better watch out for diabetes."

"You're joking, sir. There is no way I will ever catch up to you in age. That's not how it works."

"I know smart ass, what I mean is you are getting old. Weird-sounding complications that you've only heard from your grandma will start appearing in your own medical checkup sooner or later."

The two then went back and forth about age and health before Stephen started returning to his serious tone.

"Sir, can you please tell me everything you remember about the kid you are talking about?"

Seeing the serious expression in real life, Martin realized that the kid was really not playing around.

Though he still wanted to know why Stephen had gotten so worked up in the first place, he decided to tell the story first.

Martin then told Stephen about meeting a young teenager after he picked his username, then the kid shooed him away, but the kid also gave him a unique skill before he completely disappeared. 

Martin recalled the genuine disgust the kid had for him and how he couldn't even do anything against the annoying kid.

Stephen nodded his head a couple of times while hearing the story, then asked a single question when Martin finished speaking,

"Do you remember what the kid looked like?"

"Of course! The damn brat looked like…li…like…"

"His hair was long? No, short? Curly? Straight?"

Martin turned the gear in his mind.

His years of corporate experience had made him able to memorize the faces of the people he had met along with their names, even after hearing them only once.

He would never forget someone that he had just met, let alone a person that had pissed him off so bad.

'How the hell can't I remember his face!?'

Sensing Martin's distress, Stephen sighed and shook his head.

"It is true then…"

Martin jerked his head towards Stephen, his brows scrunched as he demanded an answer.

"You can't remember his face, do you?"

Martin nodded, "Yes. I remember he was an annoying little kid, barely a teenager, but I can't remember any of his features."

Stephen then spoke with an even heavier tone than before,

"Sir Martin, what you've just met is a god."

"..."

"A god whose cult burned cities in his name."