Lunch break was over before it even began.
It's just ten minutes to begin with. Can you believe that?
And if a customer walked in needing service, forget about any leniency from his boss. Of course, that's exactly what happened.
Worse yet? This particular customer was a jerk.
"How is it not available when it's clearly printed on the menu?"
Lucas Gray fought the urge to click his tongue. "With all due respect, ma'am, the Battle Canyon Kids menu is only available on national holidays."
Couldn't this lady read? It was literally written in bold, giant letters on the front display.
"So you just advertise it to lure people in? That's blatant false advertising!"
Lucas sighed. "Ma'am, if you could just—"
"What's going on here?" Samuel Beckett cut in, emerging from the kitchen and glancing between them.
The customer immediately folded her arms. "I'm just trying to understand whether your staff is intentionally trying to deceive me."
Samuel gave her a warm, professional smile—then shoved Lucas away from the register.
"I'm sorry—did my employee here upset you?"
"He told me a menu item that's clearly posted at your entrance is only available on special days. I knew that, obviously, but I came all the way here. This is a total waste of my time."
So you did know.
Samuel gave Lucas a condescending look and shook his head. "Yeah, it's a shame, really. That menu's only for special days such as Thanksgiving or Independece Day. But hey—we've got a similar set you might like, and the price isn't that different. What do you say?"
They went back and forth negotiating. Eventually, she left after ordering a dish that was more expensive and not even remotely the same.
"You can't even handle a simple task. What the hell are you even doing here?" Samuel scoffed before heading back into the kitchen.
Lucas clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. It's not that I can't do it. I just don't want to, you dickhead.
Samuel was older and physically bigger, sure. But that didn't mean Lucas was scared of him.
The only reason that smug face was still intact was because Lucas needed this job to survive.
As an ex-con, no one wanted him. No one even gave him a chance.
This restaurant—the one he cursed every morning—was the only place that hired him. Of course, there were strings attached.
Minimum wage. Twelve-hour shifts. One day off every three months.
It was hell.
And once again, Lucas trudged home late at night, half-dead on his feet.
After making sure the chairs were neat, the floors spotless, and the kitchen immaculate, he locked the restaurant and whispered his nightly prayer:
"May Samuel Beckett and this goddamn town rot in hell."
He stopped by the convenience store on his way back, grabbing a canned coffee to keep him company during a rare late night
While waiting in line, a voice from the television caught his attention.
"…honestly, your story is just so inspiring to women like me. Marrying the heir of Pride Group—even though he's ten years younger—so could you spill your little dirty spell?"
The woman on screen let out a soft giggle. She must've been nearing fifty, but with that tight skin and flawless figure, she looked more stunning than most twenty-somethings.
"Mind if I answer that one?" the man beside her chimed in.
He was good-looking, charismatic, the kind of guy who was both charming and funny without trying too hard.
"Oh, we get to hear from the 'victim' himself? Please, give us the honest truth. Ma'am, if you could kindly turn your magic off for a moment."
"Oh, Heath, I'm afraid the magic's always on. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I breathed without falling in love with her."
The audience cheered.
The man took her hand.
Heath, the host, chuckled. "Now we're even more curious about how this love story began."
But before he could say anything, Lucas tossed his money on the counter and left—without waiting for change, without a word.
What a load of crap.
That woman—gorgeous, glowing on national television—was his mother, used to be.
Lucas never knew how the affair started.
He'd been too young to understand.
Maybe it was just because she was pretty.
His mom had always looked young, always had a sharp mind, always carried herself well.
Not that his dad was some kind of loser.
But compared to a younger, richer man? She'd be stupid if not tempted.
Bitch.
They divorced when Lucas was ten.
Lucas stayed with his dad. Just because the rich guy didn't want some random kid living in his fancy mansion.
His father spiraled into depression. Became an alcoholic.
Kids at school called Lucas a whore's son. Said his mom would spread her legs for anyone richer.
And by the time he was a senior in high school, Lucas had enough.
He beat the shit out of one of them.
That kid ended up in the hospital. Coma for a week. Couldn't speak right anymore.
Lucas? Straight to adult prison.
Fighting. Violence. That became his life.
Ten long years.
When he got out, he was nothing but a piece of trash in society's eyes.
His father was dead—found hanging in his room.
His mother never visited. Not even once.
Lucas opened the door to his apartment and stared into the pitch-dark silence.
Screw this. Screw everything.
He turned on the lights. Powered up his old box TV and booted up his console.
It was the only luxury he owned—paid for through years of slave labor under Samuel.
Even then, he could only afford one game.
An adult dating sim: The Heavenly Bond.
Mechanically, it was simple. Win over a number of heroines, bond with them in a sacred ritual, and use those bonds to defeat the final boss.
But what fascinated Lucas was the setting.
Bonded Fate.
In that world, everyone was born with a destined partner. True magic and power would only awaken after completing the Bonding.
Bonded couples shared emotion, strength, lifespan—and fate—until death.
Romantic, wasn't it?
Of course the protagonist was a special case. He could bond with five different women, making him five times stronger than a normal human—maybe more.
But hey, every protagonist needs their gimmick. And he loved them all. Equally.
Sure he did.
Lucas clicked "Load," popped open his canned coffee, and stared at the screen.
He was at the duel stage now, facing a minor villain.
Kael "Ashborn" Vyle.
The arrogant, cruel son of the powerful Vyle family. Made to be a stepping stone for the hero's evolution—into something called a Proto-Human, unlocking multiple Bonds.
It was supposed to be an easy fight.
Lucas had cleared several side quests beforehand, granting him useful skills and items for this very moment.
But as he went in for the final strike, he hesitated.
One thing this game was weirdly famous for online: it gave every villain a moment—a backstory—before they died.
A short cutscene played about Kael's past.
Born from an affair.
Cursed—unable to bond with anyone. An unwanted mistake.
Always chasing after the approval of a cold, dismissive father.
Pathethic
Lucas bit his lip when it ended.
So damn pathethic.
A prompt appeared, like it always did after a villain fight:
[Press ∆ to kill Kael Vyle]
[Press O to spare him]
(Warning: Your decision will directly affect the plot and ending.)
Honestly, Kael was so minor, the warning felt pointless.
Spoilers online said that if you spared him, he'd come back stronger. But still not enough to be a real problem.
And yet, Lucas felt it—that odd tug in his chest.
Sure, Kael was a bastard. His trauma didn't excuse his actions.
Even when spared, he wouldn't grow, wouldn't reflect. He'd stay the same.
But still—stupid as it was—Lucas kind of wanted to see him try again.
So Lucas pressed ∆.
And his world began to shake.