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HC: Handyman | Ch. 185 - Just A Text
🕑 Added 2025-04-23 14:35:55 +0000 UTCFrom the train to the bus, and the bus to home, Jack kept checking his phone. Not obsessively—just enough to notice he was doing it. He had gotten a girl's number. That alone was enough to scramble his thoughts.
He hadn’t fallen head over heels or anything. Holly was just… cute. Easy to talk to. Funny, in that rare way that made the quiet between sentences feel natural. Still, the flutter in his chest was unfamiliar, and he wasn’t sure how to interpret it.
Lydia hadn’t crossed his inbox—or his life—since the breakup. The only interactions between them were a handwritten card he left on the counter at her café and a text from her acknowledging it. No calls, no long messages. Nothing. And while the breakup had stung, especially in the first few weeks, time had done what it always did.
Jack had thrown himself into work, into New Earth, and these days, thoughts of Lydia didn’t ambush him as often.
But sometimes, in the quiet moments—while jogging, brushing his teeth, or while crafting—he still thought of her.
He got home past 11 PM. His father had a long day tomorrow and was probably in bed. His mother had most likely already left for work.
He found a plate of food waiting for him on the kitchen counter, covered in plastic wrap. Jack smiled. Now that he was responsible for feeding others on New Earth, he could tell just how much work his mother put into taking care of him.
He had served quite a few people in the game. When they didn’t thank him, it bummed him out. His mother, though, kept making food for him and his dad every day—and many times, he didn’t even say anything.
He grabbed his phone and shot her a quick text.
Hi, Mom. Thank you for dinner. I don’t tell you enough, but thank you for taking care of me.
As he was about to press send, he stopped himself. After a few moments of consideration, he decided to add some heart emojis in the end. “There.”
Jack sat down and ate in silence, fork tapping lightly against the plate. The question hung in his mind like static: Should I message Holly? Would it be weird? Too soon?
And what about Lydia? Did part of me still hope she might text again? Do I still want a future with her? Is my heart hers, or does it have no owner for the moment?
Jack didn’t know. His heart was a tangled mess of guilt and curiosity, knotted like old cords in a drawer.
Later, freshly showered and in bed, he stared at the ceiling for a while before turning to his phone. His mother had texted him back with an absurd amount of kissing emojis, heart roses, teddy bears, and rainbows. Sighing, he dismissed it.
Yeah. I might have made a terrible mistake there.
His thumbs hovered over the screen. He took a breath and typed:
Hi, Holly. I hope you got home safe. I’m about to hop into New Earth. It was really nice meeting you today. –Jack
He read it over once. Then again. Then sent it.
As soon as he hit send, guilt bubbled up—like he was cheating on Lydia. At the same time, there was a tingling excitement and curiosity about whether she would reply.
Lydia broke up with me. She’s shown no sign of wanting me back. I’m just making a new friend. That’s all, he told himself. Holly really had been kind. And yes, she was beautiful. For now, he would just text her as a friend. Even if nothing else came of it, it felt good to have met someone new.
The reply came faster than expected.
Hey Jack! Just got home too. It was a lot of fun to meet you. Thanks for keeping me company on the train ride, lol. Say hi to Amari for me! XO, XO –Holly
Jack grinned without realizing it. He locked his phone, sat up in bed, and pulled on his helmet. The familiar boot-up sequence blinked in the visor.
Instead of entering New Earth right away, as per Amari’s instructions, Jack opened an app that came pre-installed with the helmet, used for making calls.
As soon as he logged in, he found himself in a simple room with a window overlooking a small garden. It was the only free virtual space available to non-paying users. If someone wanted to host a business meeting on the beach or in a floating castle, they had to pay extra.
He found Horace, Amari, and Marie sitting around a plain table. Inside the app, they appeared as they truly looked—each wearing the standard white shirt and jeans, the one outfit that came free with the app. After spending the day with Marie, seeing her in modern clothes wasn’t strange. But it was still a little funny seeing Amari and Horace in jeans.
“Hi, guys. Looks like I was the last one to arrive.”
“Like always,” Horace said, high-fiving Jack and pulling him in for a greeting.
“Hey, Jack,” Amari nodded. “Alright. Now that everyone’s here, let’s talk strategy. Let’s decide on what we’re going to do from here on out to stay off IronIre’s radar.”
“And to help Rob,” Jack quickly added.
Amari smiled. “And how to help Rob,” he echoed. “Here’s my idea…”
*
One hour of discussion later, Jack reappeared at the cemetery where he’d last logged out. The dull gray landscape of gravestones greeted him, and within seconds, a series of soft pings echoed in his ear.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
All his teammates had logged in almost at the same time.
Right. Time to follow the plan. He stretched his shoulders, cracked his neck, and took off running toward the pyramid.
Bringing out Snowy here would be like waving a bright flag. He didn’t know if IronIre’s scouts were already roaming the city, or just how extensive the spy network of this guild went, but the team had agreed: better not to take any chances. Not yet.
Horace has transferred you 10 gold.
Marie has transferred you 10 gold.
AmariNinja has transferred you 10 gold.
Jack grinned. Perfect. Thirty gold—more than enough for his shopping list.
There were dozens of marketplaces scattered throughout the city, but he headed straight for one near the pyramid. Normally, any vendor would do—but he’d stashed gear here earlier, and saving time was worth more than haggling.
Inside, he opened the marketplace window and retrieved the three sealed chests he’d stored. One by one, they popped into his inventory. [Pot Hives] appeared with a soft chime, instantly filling several storage slots.
Next came the haul from the Breach. Jack dragged everything into the market's sell window and ran the numbers—meat, fat, hides, teeth. It added up to a gold and a half.
Not bad.
Freed up and focused, he flicked open his notepad and reviewed the checklist.
300 fuses.
300 shells.
Blue Steel Shield.
Vanguard Helmet…
One by one, he bought them and ticked them off. Ammunition for Marie’s grenades. A backup armor set for Horace. More caltrops, more bear traps. Consumables Amari had requested—strange names Jack didn’t recognize.
Then came his own supplies: a full set of bone carving tools, handpicked by the professor in the crafting guide he’d written for the guild. Just over a gold, and Jack winced—but paid without hesitation.
He sold off whatever was running low on durability and picked up fresh bushcraft knives, tinderboxes, seasonings, and multiple coils of grass cord and rope.
By the end, not a single slot in his inventory was free.
Good thing Snowy transformed into a pseudo-eremotherium. That extra carry space is the only reason I can haul all this.
With one final chime, the market total cleared: 21 gold spent.
I’ve never dropped this much on a single trip. He glanced at his packed inventory. Hope it pays off.
Jack double-checked everything—twice—then exited the marketplace. The first part of the plan was completed. He turned toward his next stop: the Pottery Association.
Even though he would have loved to visit Red Lake and spend his hard-earned Bushcraft XP, it was just too risky. IronIre almost certainly had eyes on the gate. If Jack left the city, someone would spot him. And even if he somehow made it past the gate undetected, there was probably someone staking out the XP store at Red Lake too. He’d be lucky to last ten minutes if he showed up there.
The XP store inside the Pottery Association was almost certainly being watched as well—but it had one major advantage: it was located within city grounds. That meant it fell under the protection of the city guard. No PvP would be tolerated inside.
The guard patrolled the streets too, but that was a different matter. If a player had a good relationship with the guards—or enough coin to grease the wheels—it wasn’t unheard of for them to look the other way during a quick street-side ambush.
But inside a building considered part of the city’s infrastructure, things were different. If a player started something there, the system would react harshly. Jail time wasn’t just a slap on the wrist—it could last hours, sometimes even days. As soon as he made it inside the building, he would be OK.
To avoid giving away where he was coming from, Jack took the long way around the building, approaching from the opposite side. As the Association came into view, he slowed and drew in a breath.
Alright. Enough flying under the radar.
The only way to reach the Pottery Association before IronIre could react was to use the element of surprise. They certainly wouldn’t expect a noob to show up riding an eremotherium.
Summon!
Smoke burst at his side, followed by the heavy thud of massive paws. Gasps broke out around him.
Snowy had arrived—towering and serene, her silver fur catching the midday light like woven silk. Conversations fell quiet. Players backed up.
Jack vaulted into the saddle and gave her a pat. “Let’s make an entrance.”
And they did. With each step, Snowy made the ground tremble. Players pointed. Chatter filled the street.
According to what Amari had said, it was extremely rare to see an eremotherium in Embersgate. Players with the means and levels to own one usually hung out in Eternia instead. IronIre would never imagine Jack capable of riding one—which made it his best shot at reaching the building.
As Jack approached the Pottery Association, he could almost hear the faint rattling of the ceramics in its courtyard. He imagined the Association’s decorative displays shaking in their racks.
He caught sight of a player gawking at Snowy, eyes wide, then resuming his attentive scan of the street. A moment later, he glanced up—and his jaw slackened.
Too late.
Jack was already too close to the gate. He dismounted, dismissed Snowy, and stepped through without looking back. For safe measure, he even used a movement skill.
Sprint!
His figure flashed as he blurred across the courtyard and reached the building’s door. He wiped sweat from his forehead.
Oof. Finally safe.
“Hey, you!” a voice called out behind him.
Jack didn’t break stride. He just kept moving.
Only when he was nearly at the counter did a hand clamp down on his shoulder and spin him around.
The guy who stopped him was tall and menacing. He had a round shield strapped to his arm, and a thin rapier hung from his belt. In the center of his eyepatch gleamed the unmistakable logo of IronIre.
“I was talking to you,” the man said.
Jack blinked at him. “And I was ignoring you. What’s up?”
“I’d like a word. Can we talk outside?” the man asked, nodding toward the door.
Jack didn’t move. “You with IronIre?”
A half-smile. “Yeah. I just want to chat. I don’t want any trouble.”
Jack crossed his arms. “Pass. I don’t chat with armed strangers.”
The man’s hand tightened on his shoulder and squeezed. “I insist.”
If we were outside the city, I’d be in trouble. But in here… I’ve got leverage.
Jack raised his voice, just enough for the nearby NPCs to hear.
“I said I’m not interested in stepping outside. You can’t force me. The city guard protects this building.”
Behind the counter, the Pottery Association NPC perked up and started walking over, his frown deepening.
The swashbuckler let go instantly.
“I just want to know where Amari is,” he said.
“Bite me, IronIre trash,” he said, deadpan.
The man’s jaw clenched. His voice dropped. “You have no idea who you’re messing with, you punk. Walk with me, or I’ll camp your sorry corpse until you’re back to level zero—just like we’re doing to your traitor cousin.”
Jack froze. The words hit him like a slap. His vision narrowed. Something flared in his chest—white-hot and ugly.
