That night in Diamond Palace was quiet, warm, and peaceful.
After Ren bought himself and his parents their cars, they decided to bring home take-out food so Troy and Helen could relax while eating. They were at the age where staying home was far more appealing than dining out.
A soft breeze drifted through the open windows, carrying the scent of new furniture and polished marble.
While Helen prepared the table for dinner, Ren sat on the couch with his notebook and tablet. He flipped through the pages, listing the missions they had accepted that day along with the dozens more they were offered. His handwriting filled the sheets—organized, clean, efficient, yet endless. Missions for clearing dungeons, escorting players, assisting guilds, defeating beasts, helping with quests … It never stopped.
The sheer number of requests made Ren pause for the first time.
We need someone to sort these…
