Chapter 169: Some Live Freely, Some Keep Running
Ethan had known about Penny's audition for quite a while.
And based on experience, if nothing unexpected happened, she would probably fail.
He had even prepared a consolation plan in advance.
Bring some drinks. Listen to her vent. Keep her company. Complain together about directors with terrible taste.
Then, in a situation where nothing unexpected should have happened—
Something unexpected happened.
Sheldon dragged Penny into the abyss known as Age of Conan.
When someone spends a long time feeling unsuccessful in real life—becoming a loser in work and daily life—it becomes very easy to lose themselves in a virtual world.
In a game, you can level up endlessly, acquire stronger equipment, dominate in PvP, and conquer dungeons.
Every reward loop constantly feeds you artificial feelings of accomplishment.
It was a trap carefully designed by game companies to exploit human nature.
Ethan knew that perfectly well.
But...
Compared to Penny getting drunk after a failed audition...
Then randomly finding some guy and disappearing for several dozen hours...
He thought gaming was probably the better option.
At least gaming wouldn't leave anyone with abrasions.
The puddle of melted ice cream in the fourth-floor hallway still left a stubborn white stain the next morning.
The moment Ethan stepped out of his bedroom and into the living room, a barrage of frantic keyboard clicks greeted him.
Penny sat cross-legged on the couch, seemingly still wearing yesterday's clothes.
A giant cup of coffee sat in front of her, while half a doughnut rested beside it.
Sheldon sat next to her, providing serious guidance.
Penny stared at the screen with intense concentration.
"Come on... die already! You stupid skeleton! You've probably been dead for centuries—just die!"
"Consume a healing potion," Sheldon calmly instructed.
"Thanks."
Penny immediately obeyed.
"You're welcome."
The effortless coordination between them left Ethan momentarily dazed.
If they sat a little closer...
And looked a little more affectionate...
They would honestly resemble a gaming couple hopelessly addicted to MMORPGs.
"Penny," Ethan said, "don't you have work today?"
Without looking up, she replied,
"My audition got rejected yesterday."
"...?"
That wasn't exactly what he'd asked.
Still, Ethan followed her train of thought.
"So... are you feeling better now?"
"I brought a few bottles of alcohol in case you wanted to relax—"
"Nope!"
Penny cut him off instantly.
"I leveled up. I'm feeling fantastic right now."
Sheldon nodded.
"Alcohol consumption significantly reduces operational accuracy and reaction speed, thereby lowering leveling efficiency."
"Exactly!" Penny agreed enthusiastically.
"I'm thinking about quitting drinking forever."
"...?"
Ethan blinked.
She quit alcohol just like that?
Maybe having a hobby wasn't such a bad thing after all.
He sat on the other side of the couch.
"What level are you now?"
Penny's head snapped up immediately.
Her entire face lit up.
"Level Eight!"
"I was only Level Three yesterday!"
"Sheldon is basically a god of gaming!"
Sheldon immediately corrected her.
"First, I reject the title 'god' because it lacks empirical verification."
"Second, if comparisons must be made, I am more accurately your tutorial instructor."
"You're my mentor!" Penny declared proudly.
"But I'm not a newbie anymore!"
"Keep it up," Ethan encouraged seriously.
"You're Level Eight now. The cap is Level Eighty. You're almost there."
Watching Penny's complete immersion, Ethan sighed and quietly asked Sheldon:
"What time did she go to sleep last night?"
Sheldon answered with disturbing precision.
"3:47 AM."
"She insisted on completing one final quest because she determined that the reward equipment aligned with her aesthetic preferences."
"And I was right!" Penny immediately interrupted.
"I got this!"
She spun her character in place.
On the screen, a ridiculously armored leather-clad character twirled around while a cape fluttered dramatically behind them like a tiny flag.
The joy on Penny's face was completely genuine.
Ethan couldn't help laughing.
"So you're continuing today?"
"Obviously!"
Penny sounded offended by the question.
"Sheldon said if I reach Level Twenty quickly, he'll take me into dungeons!"
"Dungeons drop blue gear!"
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
"Want to try PvP instead?"
"I can take you into the arena. You'll progress faster."
"Really?!"
Penny nodded furiously.
"Wait for me!"
Then her attention instantly snapped back to the screen.
Ethan turned toward Sheldon and lowered his voice.
"You're planning to keep carrying her?"
"Yes."
Sheldon's answer was calm and immediate.
"...Why?"
"I'm fulfilling a social responsibility."
"A social responsibility?"
Sheldon spread his hands.
"I've discovered that compared to providing a depressed individual with a warm beverage, playing video games with them produces more immediate and longer-lasting results."
"Hot drinks make people calm."
"Games make people happy."
Ethan sighed.
"Fair enough."
"But hot drinks don't make people addicted."
A waitress was living extravagantly inside a virtual world.
Meanwhile, a corporate powerhouse was running herself ragged in reality, working on a project that might impact the future of human health.
By the time Eleanor returned to her office, night had fully fallen.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, city lights flickered to life one by one, forming a vast glowing web across the skyline.
She stood before the glass for a long time.
Not because she was burdened.
Quite the opposite.
She was filled with the satisfaction that came from completing something meaningful.
In the past, she only needed to sit at a conference table, issue directives, and delegate tasks down the chain.
This time was different.
This time, she had personally traveled everywhere, handling every detail and ensuring every piece fell into place.
There was something deeply fulfilling about watching a project gradually take shape through her own efforts.
Her gaze settled on the folder resting atop her desk.
It contained the results of all her work.
Her accomplishments.
The foundation's critical framework was essentially complete.
What remained now were merely the final procedural details and finishing touches.
Eleanor suddenly remembered something the doctor had once told her:
"Don't rush. Take it one step at a time."
She couldn't help letting out a small laugh.
"Take it slow?"
She muttered the words under her breath, her tone carrying equal parts helplessness and clear-eyed sarcasm.
"Please. If I don't finish this before everyone realizes what's happening..."
"What do you think you'll end up with?"
"A real foundation—or something people treat like a toy?"
She raised a hand and rubbed her chest.
There was a faint hint of discomfort.
"Though I guess I really shouldn't push myself too hard."
She took a deep breath and consciously relaxed.
"Fortunately, there isn't much left to do. I can finally get some rest."
Then another thought crossed her mind.
"Besides, if I'm working myself to death as his secretary, asking him to be responsible for my health isn't exactly unreasonable, right?"
Knowing Ethan's personality, she was almost certain he wouldn't refuse.
Having someone like him as a boss—
Whatever else could be said, at least she probably wouldn't have to worry about working herself into an early grave.
When the knock on her office door came, she wasn't surprised.
It wasn't the polite, tentative kind of knock.
It was the rhythm of someone who already assumed she was inside.
"Come in."
The door opened.
Her father stood in the doorway.
No secretary.
No assistant.
His suit jacket was gone, leaving only a dark dress shirt.
He didn't look like a man arriving for business.
He looked like someone seeking a private conversation.
He closed the door and slowly surveyed the office.
"When did you come back to the company?" he asked.
"Just now."
He was silent for a moment.
"This place is quieter than the boardroom."
Walking to the window, he stood beside her.
Beyond the glass stretched the entire city illuminated by night.
"About the marriage alliance."
At last, he spoke.
"The family needs you to marry as soon as possible."
Eleanor didn't answer.
She simply waited.
"The pressure is significant."
His voice became more careful.
"Not just internally. Externally as well."
"Your position during that meeting was very clear."
"But this matter involves more than just our family."
"I know."
Her response remained calm.
"I need to confirm something first."
His tone shifted abruptly.
"What have you been busy with lately?"
Eleanor looked up.
His words suggested he was waiting for an answer.
But his eyes suggested otherwise.
It felt as though he already knew.
He was merely waiting for her to say it aloud.
Her gaze drifted toward the folder on her desk.
The foundation's preparation documents.
Legal structures.
Compliance pathways.
Funding isolation plans.
Potential future medical partnership agreements.
She didn't avoid the question.
"I'm helping that doctor establish a foundation."
Her father visibly paused.
"What did you just say?"
"I'm assisting Ethan Rayne in creating an independent foundation."
She repeated herself without changing her tone.
"It's called the Rayne Foundation."
"It focuses on medical assistance and public health."
Silence followed.
This time it lasted much longer.
"What capacity are you helping in?" he finally asked.
"As an individual."
"Not on behalf of the family."
"Not on behalf of the company."
"So you're representing him now?"
"No."
She corrected him immediately.
"I'm helping."
"I'm currently serving as his secretary."
Her father didn't respond right away.
But Eleanor knew exactly what was happening behind his eyes.
He was rapidly reconstructing everything.
From the first treatment.
To the sudden order to halt contact.
To everything she had just revealed.
"Was this foundation your idea?" he asked.
"No."
She shook her head.
"After I made my promise, he approached me and asked for help."
"He used the family's promise to compel you?"
"It wasn't the family's promise."
She met his gaze directly.
"It was mine."
"What?"
"Yes."
Eleanor continued calmly.
"During my final treatment session, I told him that the family was the family, and I was me."
"And that I would personally help him accomplish one thing."
Her father's breathing grew noticeably heavier.
"Does anyone else know about this promise?"
She thought about it.
"Probably not."
"And honestly..."
"He didn't take it that seriously."
For the first time, her father's usual composure cracked.
"Tell me everything."
"From the beginning."
Eleanor didn't refuse.
In truth, she'd been waiting for this conversation.
She explained everything.
Without embellishment.
Without emotion.
She described Ethan's initial reaction.
His hesitation.
His vision for the foundation.
And the statement he kept repeating.
"I don't know how many people I'll be able to help."
"But I hope it won't be only a handful."
Her father listened quietly.
Carefully.
Until she finished.
"You mentioned something earlier."
He spoke slowly.
"You believe his abilities may be connected to the number of people he helps?"
"That was my hypothesis," Eleanor replied.
"Did he confirm it?"
"No."
She answered honestly.
"He doesn't know himself."
"But you think there's a connection?"
"I think the possibility is very high."
Her father didn't comment immediately.
"Why?"
Eleanor hesitated.
She knew the answer could have far-reaching consequences.
"Because I noticed something."
She chose her words carefully.
"The way he treats patients is remarkably consistent."
"It doesn't matter whether they're powerful or ordinary."
"If anything..."
"He cares more about people who have no resources and no alternatives."
"And under those circumstances, his abilities seem more stable."
Her father fell into deep thought.
"Do you understand what you're implying?" he asked.
"Yes."
"You are telling me..."
His voice dropped lower.
"That if we force him to save only the people we want saved..."
"Eventually, he may lose that extraordinary ability."
Eleanor didn't argue.
"If that's true," her father said slowly, "then many of the things we've done were mistakes."
She frowned.
"What exactly have you done?"
Her father fell silent again.
A complete silence.
Eleanor understood.
He wasn't reevaluating her.
He was reevaluating Ethan.
And the unique, irreplaceable nature of what he represented.
"The marriage alliance."
After a long time, he finally spoke again.
"Let's put it on hold."
"Your priority now is continuing the foundation."
"If you need legal support, financial support, channels, or resources..."
"The family can provide them."
"But there is one condition."
He looked directly at her.
"You must ensure that everything is entirely voluntary on his part."
"No exchanges."
"No hidden conditions."
He paused.
"At the very least, it must appear that way."
Eleanor understood perfectly.
"I will."
Her father nodded.
After a moment, his tone softened.
"As for your position at the company..."
"We'll discuss that later."
With that, he turned and walked toward the door.
Just before leaving, he glanced back at her.
His expression was noticeably gentler.
"This was somewhat presumptuous."
"But you handled it well."
"You'll be treated fairly."
The door closed.
Silence returned to the office.
Eleanor sat down and leaned back in her chair.
Closing her eyes.
She knew this wasn't a victory.
But for the first time, she possessed something she had never truly had before.
Leverage.
The right to negotiate.
The right to be taken seriously.
She picked up the folder and opened it.
One name had been lightly circled in pen.
Ethan Rayne.
A small smile appeared on her face.
Why was it that simply seeing his name made the tightness in her chest ease?
After a moment, she pulled out her phone and sent a message.
[Chairman, all procedures have been completed.
Now all we need is for you to say the word 'Begin,' and the Rayne Foundation can officially start operating.]
The reply arrived almost immediately.
[Holy hell.
Even if you're incredibly capable, there has to be a limit.
It's only been a few days!
Seriously, thank you.
Get some proper rest.
And if you're not feeling well, come by the clinic anytime.]
As expected.
He never said things like "Good job."
He never painted grand visions of the future.
He simply cared.
And somehow...
That made her want to work even harder.