Therapist's Salary... Wait, What Salary?!

I Accidentally Became a Guild Therapist

Chapter 22: Therapist's Salary… Wait, What Salary?!

Livia Marcelline Quinn, Mental Architect Lv. 1, stared at the absurdly ornate invoice blinking across her HUD. It radiated unholy amounts of glitter, embossed slime stickers, and a pixelated chibi version of Bron flexing beside the title:

"Bloodbath & Beyond Annual Finance Report – Emotional Department Division (Unofficial)."

She scrolled. And scrolled. And kept scrolling.

There were dozens of pages. Loot splits, raid bonuses, slime plushie revenue, even a pie chart comparing Glimmer's jiggle rate to guild morale—but not a single mention of her.

No Livia. No gold. No nothing.

"Are you kidding me?" she hissed, flipping to the end. "No salary? Not a single pity copper for managing your emotional diarrhea?"

At the bottom, a rainbow tooltip blinked mockingly:

> "Emotional Support Units are considered Event-Based Buff NPCs. No compensation unless registered through Payroll Portal [currently glitched, do not click]."

Naturally, she clicked it.

Her screen crashed with a static hiss and an error message:

[404: Feelings Not Found]

Her patience followed suit.

She marched into the Guildhall's annex, her Therapist's Log pulsing gold like it shared her outrage. Around her, chaos reigned: Bron and Alaric were mid-arm-wrestle over glitter dye bets. Nyx chased a slime that had stolen his flashlight. Phina rocked Glimmer in her lap, singing a lullaby that was glitching the chandeliers into disco mode. The other 70 players were buried in an emote war.

And Miles—leaning silently against a pillar—watched it all with his usual smirk, but Livia's Empathic Insight pinged something rare: a crease of guilt buried under his composed exterior.

That was enough.

She marched to the center table and slammed her Log down.

"I haven't been paid," she announced. "Ever."

Silence fell like a system-wide freeze.

Even the chandeliers paused mid-flicker.

Glimmer emitted a tiny, squeaky heart noise.

Alaric's dice rolled off the table. "No... pay?"

Bron nearly dropped his shield. "You're not in the NPC Dividend Pool?!"

Phina gasped, clutching Glimmer tighter. "I thought you were a seasonal event! Like the Valentine's Day Goblin Gala!"

Livia's eye twitched. "Seriously?! I'm not a lootable romance mechanic, I'm a licensed emotional trauma sponge!"

Nyx raised a sheepish hand. "I thought you were one of those premium AI reward trees. Maxed-out empathy stat, max passive buffs."

"I HAVE A BEDROLL, NOT A DATA PLUG!"

Her voice echoed like a thunderclap.

And then it was chaos.

Players started shouting over each other. Mages shrieked about loot equity. Warriors panicked about emotional debts. Archers whispered conspiracy theories about "secret raid bosses with attachment issues." Bron ripped open the guild's dusty financial ledger. Phina summoned charts titled "ROI on Crying Per Hour." Alaric tried calculating her emotional labor in platinum. Even Glimmer pulsed red, floating above the table like a slime-shaped protest sign.

Miles stepped forward, his psychoblade humming faintly. "Enough."

Silence returned, this time sharp and expectant.

He turned to Livia. His voice dropped, quieter than usual. "You carried us through the messiest parts of ourselves. And we didn't even think to ask if you were okay."

He reached into his satchel and slid a pouch across the table—gold coins clinking inside.

"Back pay," he said simply.

Livia stared at it. At him.

Something behind her ribs tightened. Not from the gold, not even from the gesture—but because this time, it felt real. Recognition. Not as an NPC, not as a side feature, but as one of them.

Her fingers brushed the pouch slowly.

It was warm.

And heavy.

Not with currency, but with meaning.

> They really saw her now.

...Right?

But the fear still tugged quietly in the back of her mind—What if they only cared because she made them feel better? What if she was still just a utility?

Phina broke the silence. "Let's quantify tears!"

Livia blinked. "Please don't."

Alaric grinned. "Tears = gold. Genius."

Nyx already scribbled on a napkin. "One tear = 0.75 bronze. Snotty sobs? 2x multiplier."

Phina held up a glowing chart. "We'll call it… Emotional Capitalism."

The system chimed gleefully:

> [New Guild System Unlocked: Therapist Payroll Engine v1.0 – Crying Intensity Metrics]

> [New Passive Acquired: Emotional Capitalism. +1 EXP, +0.75 gold per standard tear. +20% for sobs with lore.]

Livia's HUD updated with a real-time graph titled:

Projected Guild Cry Rates: Weekly Breakdown.

She groaned. "This is deranged."

Phina clapped. "This is fair! Emotional economics, baby!"

Alaric shouted, "Can we tip her in unresolved trauma?!"

Nyx smirked. "Combo-chain therapy. Triple EXP for childhood betrayal arcs."

Phina already opened a spreadsheet. "Let's color-code the traumas! Blue for abandonment, red for raid wipes, green for ex-guild drama."

The guild roared in support. Bron banged the table. NPC vendors popped in yelling "Buy Tear Trackers! 95% glitch rate!"

Glimmer floated up beside her. Its runes shimmered soft and pink. "You said, 'Breathe in for four.' But you never asked to breathe out."

Her Therapist's Insight pinged again:

> Entity: Glimmer. Status: Emotional Echo.

[Achievement Unlocked: Monetized Empathy. Capitalism weeps. +25 Guild Loyalty Points.]

Livia looked at the crowd. Her absurd, overpowered, emotionally codependent chaos-party of a guild.

They were spamming emotes. Arguing over who owed her the most trauma tax. Nyx waved his napkin-math. Alaric shouted about lore-boosted sobs. Miles watched quietly, but his eyes… his eyes said it all.

> We messed up. But we're trying. Please stay.

And maybe that was enough.

Livia sighed. Then smirked.

"Fine. Tears it is. Triple bonus for snot bubbles."

The guild exploded.

Alaric leapt onto the table, screaming, "HER RATE JUST TRIPLED! SHE'S A CRYING TYCOON!"

Phina levitated charts overhead. Bron held up his ledger like a holy relic. Nyx shouted, "MIN-MAX YOUR MELTDOWNS!" Glimmer jiggled violently.

And Miles—he just smiled.

Not the smirk.

A real smile.

Soft. Proud. Grateful.

> That's our Livia.

---

Final Notification Flickered :

> [New Passive Acquired: Emotional Capitalism]

"Tears are currency now. Try not to bankrupt yourself."