Since the party venue clearly wasn't the right place to discuss Arteria's new heart (or so she believed), we decided to change the venue and made our way to my room.

  "So, how is it going nowadays?" I tried making small banter to keep the mood light.

  Like man, she's taking this thing way too seriously. It's just a heart developed by a 12-year-old child who you have only known for weeks; what could possibly go wrong.

  Members of the New Dawn Guild really do like to be babies about small things.

  "Every single morning, I wake up and curse the day I decided to help you with THAT," she glared at me from the corner of her eyes.

  Wow, hurtful.

  And uncalled for, as well.

  It's not like I forced her to help her transplant my heart; it was her choice which was made on the assumption that it would be amusing.

  In that regard, she really is similar to me.

  Huh, wait, that's why she's cursing that day, because she knows it was her decision.

  Yikes.

  "My condolences."

  By that time, we had arrived at my room (it was only a floor above, after all).

  At this point, my room might as well be a discount operation theatre. Maybe I should open up a side business and start harvesting organs I mean transplant organs.

  "After you," I opened the door and beckoned her to step in.

  Hmm, now that I think about it, if someone saw us right now, they would definitely make the wrong assumption; that we were going to have some hot and steamy premarital hand holding.

  Well, the worst comes to worst and I'll just blame her for catfishing me.

  I could say something like she seduced me by her sharp gaze that masochists would literally die for, her supple nape that was simply the stuff of dreams, her bountiful chest which in its embrace reminded me of the mother I never had (maybe I did, but I don't remember), and her sweet words which lured the innocent me in.

  Holy shit, that was elaborate, not to mention cringy.

  Wow, looks like I'm your average male author now, who spends 2 pages describing a woman's breasts in an anatomically wrong way.

  Like seriously, what's with authors and their obsessions with boobs?

  I remember there being a time when I read a book in which the author just rambled on and on about the curves of a woman.

  Which in itself would have been fine, as I'm pretty much used to reading such things.

  The problem was that the woman was actually dead and the characters were looking at her dead body.

  Like yea mate, whenever I look at the cold, lifeless corpse of a woman, the first thing that comes to my mind is how sensual the curves of her hips and chest are, and then lament the fact that the world has lost such a beauty.

  I believe that was the time I took a break from novels and got into other productive hobbies, like committing suicide.

  Needless to say, I hunted that author down, killed him, then got into a massive shootout with the knights and died a heroic yet a pretty horrific death.

  Just kidding, a carriage ran me over and gave me an especially excruciating death.

  "What are you dawdling around for?" Arteria's retort brought me back.

  Right, I'm here to discuss the terms of Arteria's heart transplant surgery, not reminiscence about the past.

  "Just checking if there was anyone following us," I lied.

  "Was there anyone?"

  "Nope."

  Except that I wasn't checking anything and lied, so I'm really banking on the fact that none of the New Dawn Guild's members have perverse hobbies, such as following someone to their room, or breaking into their room, or watching others sleep.

  …


  Hmm, I might be fucked.

  "Now, back to the… negotiation."

  "There is no-"

  "Before you start complaining and threatening me, why don't you take a look at the product? It's possible that you might end up liking it."

  I mean, even if artificially produced, the new heart is still tailor-made for Arteria. So the possibility of her ending up liking it is not negligible.

  "Yeah, why not," she rolled her eyes.

  Let's pretend to be a wanker who cannot read social cues and ignore her sarcasm. So basically, let's pretend to be a member of the New Dawn Guild.

  "Hold on a sec."

  Taking a lesson from my last blunder, this time, I had hidden the heart in an appropriate place.

  A place where a dodgy Dragon couldn't smell the scent of blood emanating off it, nor could a dodgy assassin barge into my room and chance upon it.

  Because, you know, that won't be ideal.

  So I opened my Inventory (which was nothing more than a simple space-manipulation magic) and carefully took my latest creation out.

  "Behold, the Dragon-Vampire-Shadowlord Hybrid Heart."

  Are you tired of being a normal person? Do you hate belonging to a single species?

  Do cities and mountains annoy you? Do you want to destroy them with single magic spells?

  Then fear not, the DVSH heart is for you.

  With a new and improved Magical Calculation Area, even infants can cast spells on the levels of demigods.

  The new Dragon Magic Casting System allows you to use the mana present in nature, while the Vampire System makes you near immortal.

  Finally, the Shadowlord System grants you access to spells far greater than what you could possibly imagine.

  Order now at the New Dawn Guild and get a 20% discount.

  Offer valid till stocks last.

  "Y-you can use Space magic?"

  Wut?

  "That's not important. Take a look at this," I beckoned her to look at the heart floating above my hand.

  "No, wait- wha?!" Arteria gasped and clutched her chest as she set her eyes on the heart bound by the several magical formations. "W-what is this?"

  "A heart."

  Is she hypermetropic? I hope so, because then I would gain a comrade who'll wear specs with me.

  Perhaps we could go shopping together and choose frames for each other. Or better, we could get matching frames and-

  "I-I know that! It's just…"

  Oh.

  I guess I'm not getting a comrade anytime soon.

  This is so sad, Memory System play Arenmheim.

  ?No.?

  A fucking asshole right till the very end, huh?

  My heart has been shattered by Arteria's betrayal, and you can't even comfort me?

  Jesus.

  "Just?"

  "It's… it's calling me."

  Oh?