“What?! A company?”

  Ironshield almost choked on his beer, his eyes darting to Old Man Sid. The latter shrugged, a grimace playing on his face that suggested he too was caught off guard.

  “Why would you even want to start one?” Ironshield continued, leaning forwards. “The way you operate, you’re the definition of a freelancer. Why tie yourself down?”

  “I thought so too at first. Remain solo and stay on the sidelines, as Sid recommended,” Jin explained, his gaze dropping to his hands as he balled them into fists. “But the incident with the White Raven party changed things. My priorities have shifted.”

  “Care to tell me why? You don’t have to, but if we’re doing this, I need to understand.”

  Jin took a slow breath. “Because I have a daughter in that company. And I don’t like where her party is leading her.”

  “Daughter? What daughter?” Ironshield asked, his brow furrowing in deep confusion. He looked Jin up and down and tried to do the maths, but it was obvious that he was struggling with it. “White Raven, like any other Neo-Tokyo’s top ten companies don’t invest in ‘potential’ that takes years to ripen. They want proven weapons they can use now. A preschooler is nothing more than a liability to them.”

  “Preschooler?” Jin shook his head. “She’s seventeen,”

  Ironshield barked out a laugh, but it died in an instant when he saw Jin’s deadpan expression. “Seventeen? That’s impossible. You’re twenty-one! H-How could you be–“ The big man went speechless.

  Jin exchanged a silent glance with Old Man Sid before turning back to Ironshield. “I told you before, right? I’m not as young as I look. I’m forty-two.”

  Ironshield went quiet. He watched Jin’s face, searching for a punchline that never came. As Jin began to explain the truth – the same truth he had shared with Old Man Sid and Elise – the only sound in the room was Elise’s merry hum from the kitchen and the aroma of dinner beginning to waft through the air.

  “So, Frank–”

  “Jin. Between us, Jin is fine.”

  “Alright, Jin. Let me get this straight,” Ironshield said, his voice low. “You’re saying you survived a closed RIFT. And then you spent seven years in some unknown abyss, and the one who brought you back... was a god?”

  Instead of answering them with words, Jin called for Viridiana and Bahamut to appear.

  The air in the room curdled. The merry hum from the kitchen seemed to stretch and distort, and the warm temperature of the dining room plummeted as if a RIFT had opened inside the house.

  A small portal tore through the space above the table. Two beings plopped out. Bahamut, the big-bellied, comical-looking dragon, perched onto Jin’s head as if his hair were the God-Emperor’s personal nest. Viridiana coiled onto Jin’s lap, her soft, rhythmic ‘kri’ sounds slowly bringing a sense of normalcy back to the distorted space.

  “Is it offering time, Jin?” Bahamut asked in his deep and regal voice.

  Ironshield stared at the obsidian-scaled entity crowning the man in front of him, his breath stalled in his chest.

  It was Elise who broke the tension, stepping out from the kitchen with a tray of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Without a hint of fear, she offered Bahamut the largest piece. The God-Emperor let out a satisfied hum, snatched the treat with his claws, and flew towards the landlord’s chair. He landed with a thud and gestured at the screen, demanding that Old Man Sid switch on the television.

  “I had that same look on my face, baldie,” he muttered to Ironshield. Old Man Sid stood up and patted the veteran Player’s shoulder, who remained frozen stiff, his eyes locked on the obsidian-scaled being. “Wild, isn’t it?”

  Ironshield finally lunged for his beer with trembling hands, the can clinking against his teeth as he took a desperate swig. “This is beyond wild,” he croaked. “This is… I don’t even know what this is anymore. L-Let me catch my breath before I pass out.”

  By then, foods and drinks hit the tables and they ate in an awkward silence. Elise’s cooking acted as a much-needed anchor to reality. A reality that Ironshield still struggled to grasp.

  “I’ll need time to process this,” Ironshield admitted, staring at his empty plate. “My mind is a mess.”

  “Take your time,” Jin said. “It isn't an easy thing to digest.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Says the man with a god for a pet and a RIFT beast roaming our world,” Ironshield countered, his serious tone returning. “If the higher-ups ever find out what you are, Jin... I can’t even imagine the scale of the manhunt.”

  Hearing Ironshield’s warning, Jin offered a thin, sharp smile that made the veteran Player break into a cold sweat. “I trust you can keep a secret?”

  “O-Of course. I’m a man of my word.”

  “Good. Then you understand why starting a company is my only option left. I can't protect my daughter as a freelancer.”

  Ironshield nodded. The confusion on his face disappeared, replaced by a darkened expression. “I know White Raven. From my days at Valiant Blaze, I saw how they operate. It’s no place for your daughter. Forgive me for saying this, but it’s only a matter of time before they push her until she breaks. And once she’s useless, they’ll discard her like trash.”

  “My hunch was right, then,” Jin said, his voice cold with malice towards those who dared to treat his daughter the way Ironshield described. “All the more reason I need to hurry up.”

  “Hurry? Jin, starting a company is already a nightmare. Especially for a rookie Player like you. Even I myself, at my peak, found it hard to start one. And then poaching a star like Eleana? That takes more than a wish and a prayer for miracles.”

  “Miracles?” Jin jerked his head towards the living room, where Bahamut was watching the TV. “Hey, Bee. You mind helping me reunite with my daughter?”

  “Is that not what you wished for when you returned?” came the assuring response.

  Jin turned back to Ironshield with a small smile. “See? Is that miracle enough for you?”

  “Ha. Haha. Hahaha.” Ironshield wiped the sweat from his forehead, let out a shaky breath, and slumped back in the dining chair. “I think I’m going crazy.”

  ***

  Ironshield set his beer down, the sixth can by now. “If you're serious, Jin,” he said, half-drunk, “you need to know the price of admission. There are five hurdles you have to clear before SeComm even looks at your application.”

  “Lay them out,” Jin said, handing Ironshield a plate of roasted edamame.

  “First, the founder which is you, must be at least Gold I rank. Second, your SeC-rate must be at least ten thousand points.”

  “SeC-rate?” Jin frowned. “What’s that? This wasn’t covered in our preparatory classes, right?”

  “Of course not,” Ironshield replied while munching on the snacks. “Those classes are the bare minimum. Everything else, including your commissions, ratings, and true professional ranking, you must earn them in the field. The SeC-rate is HQ’s way of evaluating your actual contribution to the city’s safety. It’s why so many Players swarmed that C-Class RIFT. They weren't there only for the bounty but also, farming points.”

  Jin nodded. Beyond money, status was another tangible currency in a Player’s world.

  “Third,” Ironshield continued, “you need ten million Alliance dollars. Cash. It gets deposited under the company’s bank account once the paperwork clears.”

  Jin didn't even blink. With twenty Rainbow Stat Seeds he had, ten million was a cinch. “That’s the easy part. What else?”

  “The fourth and fifth are the killers. You need a fixed party of at least five independent Players with a combined SeC-rate of thirty thousand, the Senior Pioneer party rank. Also, they have to be clean. Meaning you cannot poach them from other companies while they’re still on active duty. And these five or more, including you, will form your Board of Directors.”

  Jin leaned back, letting out a slow whistle. “More terms I’d never heard of. And this party? I need to find four more people like you who aren't already signed to any company?”

  Ironshield nodded.

  “Damn. I definitely have my work cut out for me.”

  “And there’s no hurrying up either. The registration itself takes three to six months,” Ironshield added with a smirk. “Assuming you can handle the mountain of paperwork without a single clerical error. This is where I failed mine. Three times.”

  The table went silent. Despite mentioning it last, paperwork was the first task that Jin needed to complete. Yet, the candidates in front of Jin were useless. Ironshield hated administrative work and Old Man Sid was already drowning in managing the Cleaner Department. And between the company and the Chairman’s challenge to start a school, Jin was looking at another administrative nightmare. More than a week had passed, and at best, he managed half a page doodle of pure unadulterated nonsense.

  “Why don’t I help you boys?”

  “W-What?!” Jin reached out and grabbed her hands in excitement. “You sure about this?”

  Elise’s face turned red as a boiled prawn, and her voice jumped a few pitches higher. “I-I guess so? Hehehe.”

  She excused herself and hurried upstairs, returning a moment later with a stack of files half her height. She thudded them onto the table. “I saw these lying around in the living room earlier today. So, I took the liberty of arranging them. Hope you don’t mind.”

  Old Man Sid stared at the stack and actually shed a tear. “Wow… everything is colour-coded. She even made an index, Jin. She even made an index!”

  “That’s… much better than the work I’ve seen anyone doing at HQ,” Ironshield admitted, impressed despite himself. “Heck. In my opinion, you’re heads above Alicia, the White Raven secretary who’s dubbed as one of Neo-Tokyo’s top administrators.”

  Jin looked at the files, then at Elise. She wasn't just a ‘future wife’ tease; she was the cornerstone of his family’s future. “Boys, I think we have our first appointment. Elise, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to be the company secretary. Will you do–“

  “I’ll do it!” Elise chirped. “Anything for you.”

  She leaned in close to Jin’s ear, her voice a soft, mischievous whisper. “But I want some nice rewards. Can you handle that, Mister President?”

  “Anything,” Jin replied with a wink. “Name it, and if it's within my power, it's yours.”

  Elise let out a giggle and hugged his arms. “So, what are we calling our company?”

  Jin looked at his small, mismatched team – the one-armed veteran Player, the grumpy old friend and the flirtatious girl who held his and Eleana’s future. In that moment, the image he had carried in his heart for years flooded his mind. The hospital room. Holding Elyzabeth’s hand while their newborn daughter slept nearby. Kissing their cheeks, feeling their warmth against his.

  Back then, it was his paradise. And paradise was what he intended to build for his daughter now.

  “Elysium.”