Strategic Meetings Shouldn't Be This Wet

I Accidentally Became a Guild's Therapist

Chapter 27: Strategic Meetings Shouldn't Be This Wet

Livia Marcelline Quinn, Mental Architect Lv. 1, stood stiffly at the very edge of the Bloodbath & Beyond guild's private mountain hot spring. Her golden-trimmed robe, usually a symbol of her professional composure, was clutched so tightly to her chest it felt less like fabric and more like her last, desperate line of defense against the encroaching chaos. She had faced digital dragons, confronted existential crises, and even navigated guild meetings involving sentient furniture, but this… this was a new level of social minefield.

Steam curled in lazy, ethereal spirals above the shimmering water, mingling incongruously with delicate, drifting snowflakes that defied all logic by never seeming to melt on impact. Synthetic cherry blossoms, a whimsical touch courtesy of Phina's latest cosmetic enchantment, floated gently through the air, occasionally landing on the water's surface to drift serenely. The meticulously programmed soundscape – the tranquil murmur of water trickling over smooth stones, the soft creak of bamboo swaying in an unseen breeze, the cheerful chirping of digital birds – was a bold-faced, utterly unconvincing lie. Because, despite all appearances of serenity, Bloodbath & Beyond was holding their monthly strategy meeting.

And they were holding it in a hot spring.

Clothing, it seemed, was entirely optional.

Emotions, however, were absolutely mandatory.

Livia squinted at the small, handcrafted bamboo sign, surprisingly sturdy, bolted directly into the rugged rock face beside the spring. Its message, etched with an almost childlike simplicity, perfectly encapsulated the guild's unique brand of absurdity:

> Guild Strategy Protocol #38

> "Plot raids. Air trauma. Sit in soup."

She let out a long, weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of all her accumulated emotional labor. "I hate this guild," she muttered, more to herself than anyone, though a faint, grudging fondness already twinged in her chest.

A wave of booming laughter echoed from within the spring, splashing water in joyful arcs. Bron's deep, resonant voice cut through the steam, calling out, "Quit hovering, Buffer! The water boosts team synergy! It's in the guild charter, probably!"

Livia hesitated for only a second longer before stepping cautiously onto the heated, smooth stones surrounding the spring. The warmth immediately seeped through her thin sandals, a surprising comfort. She pulled her robe even tighter around her, as if it could somehow magically make her less visible. Her HUD flashed a gentle notification, acknowledging her reluctant entry:

> [You have entered: Tranquil Steam Zone]

> Buff Applied: +10% Relaxation | -20% Personal Space Awareness

She was, decidedly, not comforted by the forced relaxation buff or the alarming reduction in her personal space awareness. If anything, the notifications only highlighted the utter bizarre nature of her current predicament.

Inside the spring, her teammates had fully, wholeheartedly, and shamelessly surrendered to the chaos.

Bron, the guild's formidable tank, was half-submerged, looking less like a battle-hardened warrior and more like a benevolent sauna troll king. He cradled a ridiculously oversized bamboo bucket filled with what he insisted was "mana-sake," taking rhythmic gulps. Steam rose from his head in cartoonish, rhythmic puffs, as if he were a living geyser.

Alaric, the guild's Paladin-turned-comedian, was wearing nothing but a pair of brightly enchanted trunks that shimmered with illusory fish. Zero shame. He floated precariously on a magical pool noodle, holding a tiny umbrella drink that seemed to defy gravity. He was currently challenging Glimmer, Phina's faithful slime companion, to a staring contest. The giant slime, clearly enjoying the attention, pulsed with an array of rainbow colors like a sentient, jiggling lava lamp, its single, glowing eye fixed on Alaric with unnerving intensity.

Phina, the guild's Eldritch Archmage

was, as always, an oasis of serene elegance. She sat cross-legged atop a glowing lotus pad that floated gracefully on the water's surface, her intricate robes miraculously untouched by moisture. She hummed softly, a low, melodic tune that seemed to harmonize with the trickling water. Glimmer, when not engaged in staring contests, obediently formed a glowing heart above her head, a testament to their deep bond.

Nyx, Guild's Ghost Rouge naturally, was lurking. He was partially hidden behind a large, steaming boulder, a towel draped completely over his head, allowing him only slivers of vision. His ubiquitous Hello Kitty flashlight flickered gently nearby, casting soft, pink light. "Too many exposed hitboxes," he muttered from beneath his towel, his voice muffled but clear, betraying his assassin's paranoia even in a hot spring.

And then there was Miles. Annoyingly, infuriatingly, perfectly composed. He was perched on a smooth, flat ledge at the spring's edge, shirtless, a faint smirk playing on his lips. His usually unruly dark hair was damp, pushed back just enough to look intentional, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw. A faint, intriguing scar traced one side of his collarbone, a subtle testament to past battles.

Of course, Livia thought with a roll of her eyes. Even his scars are aesthetically pleasing.

Livia, by contrast, sat at the absolute farthest ledge she could find, dipping just her feet into the warm water, still swaddled in her robe like an emotional burrito. She felt like an alien observing a particularly bizarre cultural ritual.

"I thought this was a meeting," she said, her voice clipped, barely concealing her exasperation. "Not a matchmaking episode of 'Guild Bachelor'."

Alaric, without missing a beat, raised his umbrella drink in a mock toast. "Same thing!" he shouted, nearly toppling off his pool noodle. "You gotta know who you're fighting with, and who you're feeling with!"

Phina, ever the spiritual guide, opened one eye, her gaze serene. "The spring amplifies truth, Livia. It's in the lore. And also my aromatherapy script, which I meticulously crafted for emotional release."

Miles, with a casual flick of his wrist, sent a single, perfectly aimed water droplet soaring through the air to land precisely on Livia's nose. "Relax, Livia. Your cortisol's showing. We can practically see the stress levels radiating off you."

"I will log off," she muttered, a hollow threat she knew she couldn't actually follow through on. Where would she even go?

The guild's central floating crystal—a tactical interface node usually reserved for projecting raid maps and enemy weaknesses—hovered above the spring, glowing softly. It now projected faint, shifting maps of upcoming zones, but also prominently displayed various mood metrics, swirling patterns of emotional data that pulsed slowly, in sync with everyone's heart rate. The absurdity of a tactical crystal displaying emotional well-being was not lost on Livia.

Miles, sensing Livia's waning patience, finally adopted a more serious tone. "Alright, everyone. Focus. Last week, we cleared Echo Dungeon. We cried. We screamed. We hugged slimes. It was… productive. Now, before we rush into another raid, we check in. Internally." He gestured broadly at the group, his expression surprisingly earnest.

Livia blinked, the pieces slowly falling into place. "So this is therapy," she stated, a dawning realization that somehow made the entire situation even more absurd.

"Strategy and therapy!" Bron boomed, burping a stream of tiny, sparkling mana-infused bubbles. "That's called synergy, Buffer! Get with the program!"

Nyx, still shrouded by his towel, mumbled mournfully, "I haven't slept since my flashlight glitched. I think it knows too much about my deepest fears now."

Alaric swirled his umbrella drink dramatically, a theatrical sigh escaping him. "I keep dreaming I'm a cursed loot crate, forever unopened, forever denying adventurers the epic gear they so desperately seek."

Phina sighed, a soft, melancholic sound.

"I realized, during the Echo Dungeon run, that I use Glimmer as a metaphor for my own emotional detachment. He takes all the hits, literally and figuratively, so I don't have to feel them."

Glimmer, sensing its role in this revelation,

jiggled sympathetically, radiating a comforting rainbow glow.

Miles's gaze, steady and unflinching, shifted back to Livia. His turn. "Your turn," he simply stated, a silent invitation, a gentle push.

Livia exhaled, a long, slow release of breath.

The pervasive warmth of the water, the sheer, undeniable absurdity of the setting, the stupid, heartbreaking sincerity emanating from her guildmates – it all worked together, chipping away at her carefully constructed resistance. Her therapist's logic, usually so precise, began to unravel under the weight of shared vulnerability.

"I feel… like I'm glitching in a way no patch can fix," she admitted, the words spilling out before she could second-guess them. "Like I'm this walking bug, this anomaly, that became everyone's therapist by mistake. And now I can't even feel properly, or express myself properly, without breaking something important. Or making a huge mess."

Bron, bless his chaotic heart, immediately raised his mana-sake bucket in a heartfelt toast. "To feeling wrong!" he roared, splashing water excitedly.

"Seconded!" shouted Alaric, abandoning his pool noodle to splash water enthusiastically in agreement. "Embrace the bug!"

Phina, ever the voice of gentle wisdom, added, "There's no such thing as 'wrong' feelings, Livia. Only compressed ones. Like tightly packed data that needs to be decompressed and processed."

Miles, his voice a low, thoughtful murmur, offered his own unique perspective. "Even system bugs have purpose. Sometimes they reveal hidden mechanics, or force a reset, a new direction.

You just need to find what you're breaking open."

A strange, comfortable silence fell over the hot spring. It was a warmth that permeated beyond the water, a respectful, understanding quiet. Livia's robe, which she had clutched so desperately, no longer felt like a flimsy shield against the world. More like a familiar, comforting blanket, allowing her to simply be.

Suddenly, her HUD pinged with a soft, surprising notification:

> [You've gained a temporary buff: Steam-Shared Vulnerability]

> +15% Guild Trust | +1 Emotional Fortitude

And then, another notification, almost celebratory in tone:

> [New Achievement: Hot Spring Confessions – "You sobbed, they sobbed, no one escaped."]

> Reward: +2 Passive XP | Custom Title: Steam Counselor

Then, as if a dam had broken, the raw emotion burst forth again. Bron, clearly overwhelmed by the collective vulnerability and his own repressed grief, sobbed loudly, his voice cracking. "I MISS BETA HAMMY! He was the bravest hamster! He faced down a level 80 raid boss in a cutscene!"

Alaric, tears streaming down his face, shouted, "I'm afraid of slime intimacy! They're so squishy! What if they absorb my soul?! My confidence is just a facade!"

Nyx, finally emerging from under his towel, his eyes red-rimmed, whispered brokenly, "I wanted to be a florist! All I ever wanted was to arrange beautiful flowers! Not… not sneak around in the shadows!"

Phina clutched Glimmer, her own face wet with tears, her voice trembling. "We are all just pond scum seeking love! Little bits of data, yearning for connection!" Glimmer, for its part, emitted a sympathetic, gurgling sound.

Even Miles, who prided himself on his impenetrable composure, looked away briefly, his jaw tight. His voice, when it came, was surprisingly low, almost a whisper, laced with a vulnerability Livia hadn't thought him capable of. "I regret nothing… but I remember everything."

The weight of those words, spoken by a Psychoblade Commander whose past was a carefully guarded mystery, resonated deeply.

Livia blinked, her eyes wide.

Everyone was crying. Again.

Steam. Sob stories. Tactical revelations disguised as emotional purging.

It was… undeniably beautiful.

Utterly ridiculous.

And profoundly, wonderfully cathartic.

It was, Livia realized, the most genuinely human strategic meeting she had ever attended, digital or otherwise. The chaos, the vulnerability, the sheer, glorious absurdity of it all. This was Bloodbath & Beyond. And somehow, she had found her place within its beautiful, broken heart.

>End:

As the meeting finally began to wind down, the communal emotional storm slowly receding into a gentle drizzle of sniffles and quiet reflections, a final, soft notification blinked in Livia's HUD:

> [Guild Bond Level Up!]

> New Guild Trait Unlocked: "Emotional Cooldown: -10% Conflict Duration in Party Chats"

Livia leaned back, letting the lingering warmth of the spring water and the pervasive absurdity of the situation soak deep into her bones. For once, she didn't feel like the designated therapist, carrying the weight of everyone else's emotional baggage. Nor did she feel like the guild's designated buffer, absorbing all the impact. She certainly didn't feel like a bug, an error in the system.

She felt like part of a family.

An absurd, semi-nude, emotionally volatile, and deeply, beautifully broken family.

But undeniably, wonderfully, hers.