CHAPTER 26: THE QUESTION
She didn't move from the doorway.
The question hung between us—direct, unadorned, the kind of ask that demanded an answer rather than an evasion. Chen Guo's phone still showed the Excellent Era statement, its corporate language accusing me of sins I hadn't committed in a life I hadn't lived.
I calculated.
Lie: "No, I'm just a skilled player who happens to use similar techniques."
She'd want to believe it. She might even accept it.
But she saw the Blood Gunner Yagg footage. She knows what an Unspecialized looks like. She's been watching me for two weeks.
The lie would work for tonight.
It would fail by next week.
And when it failed, I'd lose more than I'd save.
Chen Guo's jaw was set. Her eyes—bright, sharp, the look of someone who'd assembled evidence and reached a conclusion she was afraid to confirm—didn't waver.
The source material said she'd be a fangirl.
This woman isn't fangirling.
She's interrogating.
I nodded once.
"Yes."
The silence lasted four seconds.
Then Chen Guo's expression cracked—not into tears or screaming excitement, but into a cascade of emotions that crossed her face like weather patterns: disbelief, fury, more disbelief, something that might have been joy, then fury again.
"You absolute—" She stopped. Started again. "Two weeks. You've been working at my café for two weeks. You turned down fifty thousand yuan. You fixed my network router. You trained Tang Rou like she was a promising rookie and you were a coach with ten years of experience. And the whole time—"
She pressed her hand against her forehead.
"The whole time you were Ye Qiu."
Not exactly.
But close enough that the distinction doesn't matter right now.
"I needed somewhere quiet," I said. "Your café was quiet."
"Quiet." She laughed—a sharp, brittle sound. "Ye Qiu—the Battle God, the three-time champion, the greatest Glory player of his generation—needed somewhere quiet, and he picked Happy Internet Café in the industrial district of H City."
"Yes."
"Why?"
The answer that came out was simpler than I expected: "Because no one would look for me here."
Chen Guo stared at me for a long moment. Then she walked past the counter, disappeared into the back room, and emerged sixty seconds later with two cups of instant coffee. Her hands were shaking—the liquid sloshed against the rim as she set one cup in front of me.
She sat down across from me like we were negotiating a merger.
"Three questions," she said. "Then I decide what to do."
Three questions.
The source material said she'd be overwhelmed, emotional, a devoted fan meeting her idol.
This woman is running a job interview.
"Ask."
"Question one: Why my café?"
"I already answered that."
"You said it was quiet. I want the real answer."
I considered the options. The truth was complicated—transmigration, meta-knowledge, the desperate need for a base of operations that wouldn't connect to Ye Xiu's known associates. The version she could accept was simpler.
"I walked out of Excellent Era's headquarters with nothing. No plan, no resources, no allies I could contact without compromising their positions. I needed a place to rebuild. Your café was hiring. The timing worked."
"So it was random."
"The location was random. The decision to stay wasn't."
Her eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"
"It means I saw your equipment, your infrastructure, your attitude toward players. You run a good operation. Better than most internet cafés I've seen. If I'm going to build a team, I need a base. This place could be that base."
Chen Guo's expression shifted—the fangirl finally surfacing beneath the businesswoman. "You're building a team."
"Question two."
She caught herself. "Right. Question two: Are you coming back? To professional Glory?"
"Yes."
"The Challenger League?"
"Yes."
"With a new team?"
"Yes."
"From this café?"
I paused. "That depends on question three."
Chen Guo set her coffee down. Her hands had steadied—the shaking replaced by the focused intensity of someone who'd spotted an opportunity and was calculating how to seize it.
"Question three: What do you need?"
There it is.
Not "can I help" or "what can I do."
What do you need.
The question of a partner, not a fan.
I thought about the answer. The list was long: resources, infrastructure, time, players, legal protection, financial backing. But the immediate need was simpler.
"I need you to not tell anyone. Not yet. The identity reveal is happening whether I want it or not—Excellent Era's statement made sure of that. But there's a difference between the community speculating and someone who knows confirming. I need time to control how this unfolds."
"Done." No hesitation. "What else?"
"I need this café to stay operational as my base. That means maintaining the cover story—I'm your night manager, nothing more. When the time comes to go public, we'll do it on my terms, not Excellent Era's."
"Done. What else?"
I studied her. The practical energy, the quick agreements, the complete absence of the starstruck hesitation I'd expected. The source material had described Chen Guo as impulsive and emotional. This version was something else—someone who'd learned to channel passion into action.
Another butterfly.
Another way the real person exceeds the story I thought I knew.
"That's enough for now."
Chen Guo nodded. Then she pulled a notebook from her bag—an actual paper notebook, the kind with lined pages and a spiral binding—and wrote something at the top of the first page.
I couldn't see the words from my angle.
She underlined them twice, then looked up.
"Team Happy," she said. "That's what we're calling it. The café is Happy Internet Café. The team is Team Happy. If you're going to use my business as your base, it gets naming rights."
Team Happy.
The name from the source material.
She arrived at it independently.
Some things, it seems, are fixed points.
Morning sunlight was starting to hit the café windows—the first glow of December 19th creeping across workstations that would soon fill with customers who had no idea what had just been decided in this room.
I picked up the coffee she'd made me. Cold now, but I drank it anyway.
"Team Happy," I said. "I can work with that."
To supporting Me in Pateron.
with exclusive access to more chapters (based on tiers more chapters for each tiers) on my Patreon, you get more chapters if you ask for more (in few days), plus new fanfic every week! Your support starting at just $6/month helps me keep crafting the stories you love across epic universes.
By joining, you're not just getting more chapters—you're helping me bring new worlds, twists, and adventures to life. Every pledge makes a huge difference!
Join now at patreon.com/TheFinex5 and start reading today!
if you've been waiting for a translation — it's up.
unwrittenrealm.com has this story in 14 languages and more free chapters than here.