Chapter 27: Dance Dance Revelation
After school, Elias decided to break from his usual routine of quest grinding. If he didn't take a break soon, he was going to lose his mind. He hadn't done anything remotely fun in weeks—not since the stress of his missing parents and the lurking threats had taken over his every thought.
So he invited Syler to hang out… and of course, Hans invited himself along. Elias didn't have the energy—or the brutal honesty to say no.
They went to the mall, which had the widest variety of things to do. The place was packed: footsteps echoed, people chattered, and children squealed in every direction. The greasy scent of food court pizza mingled with the overpowering fragrances of candles and body wash. Even the fluorescent lights and sterile white walls stung Elias's eyes a little.
It was… a lot. For nearly a month, he'd only gone to school, the hospital, or home. So stepping into a place this crowded, with so much sensory overload, left his enhanced senses struggling to adjust.
"You okay?" a voice asked beside him.
Elias blinked and refocused. Syler and Hans were both watching him—Syler with concern, and Hans with amused curiosity that quickly shifted into something more thoughtful. Maybe Elias had imagined it.
He forced a relaxed smile. "Yeah, sorry. Been a while since I've been out," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Syler raised a brow but stayed silent. Hans waggled his thick brows and gave a half-smile. "Is that so? You looked a little overwhelmed there for a second," he said, drawing out the words.
Elias looked away, avoiding his gaze.
"What do you guys wanna do first?" Elias asked, changing the subject as he looked around.
"I'm good with whatever," Syler replied with a small grin, readjusting his brown hair out of his eyes.
"Let's go with what you want, boss!" Hans immediately flattered, even exaggerating a salute.
Elias sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Neither of you are very helpful, you know that? Fine—looks like I'll be the one making decisions for you plebs who can't exercise basic free will. How about we grab some food? I'm kinda hungry. Sound good, peeps?"
Syler rolled his eyes and flicked Elias's forehead—a sharp snap echoing from the impact. Elias immediately dropped into a crouch, rubbing the spot.
'Damn. Not even my pain resistance could help with that flick,' he thought, on the verge of tears.
Syler smirked and blew on his finger like it was a smoking gun. "When you're done being a dumbass, let's head to the cafeteria."
Elias shot him a glare and stood up, still rubbing the reddened spot. "You're the dumbass," he muttered, grabbing Syler's collar and dragging him toward the cafeteria. Syler choked and struggled before finally breaking free, shooting Elias a glare in return.
Elias just laughed smugly, a cheeky smile spreading across his face—only to earn another flick to the forehead from Syler, who let out a snort of laughter. In retaliation, Elias wrapped an arm around Syler's head in a playful chokehold, laughing as he told him to tap out, while Syler struggled to pull himself free.
For once, Hans looked completely flabbergasted by their actions.
'Aren't they friends? Why are they so violent with each other?' he thought, chewing his inner cheek uneasily.
'I've been throwing flattery nonstop. Don't people usually like that? I've been nothing but nice—so why isn't he more warm or trusting toward me? Flattering people always worked before.' He frowned, scratching the back of his head as he watched the two act like buffoons together.
'Is that not how you make friends? But Syler's usually nice to him… should I start doing that too? No, I'd probably kill someone if they did that to me.'
Hans couldn't make heads or tails of it—he could only hurry to catch up with them.
'Maybe friendship is more than just dumping flattering remarks or being nice to someone,' he thought, frustrated. 'Are teenage friendships really this complex?'
All three of them arrived at the cafeteria and started looking around for whatever sounded or looked good.
"I'm feeling burgers today," Elias said, walking over to the burger joint window, with Syler and Hans following close behind. He ordered a cheeseburger, a strawberry shake, and some Cajun fries. Syler silently scrutinized the menu, looking like he was doing calculations in his head.
"Need me to spot you today?" Elias asked, noticing Syler's eyes glued to the cheapest items on the menu.
Syler's fair face flushed with embarrassment. "No, I'm good. I actually earned some money recently. Just used to saving," he muttered.
Elias smiled smugly. "It's on me, bro. You give me food all the time. I earned a bit of money recently, too. Allow me to be your sugar daddy for the day," he said, fanning out some bills.
Truthfully, the money came from the system. For some reason, a few quests rewarded actual cash.
They were usually weird tasks that required him to spend a little money up front, but he always got back more than he put in. He'd learned he could convert the rewards into any currency he wanted, as long as it stayed in his inventory.
At first, he worried the bills might be counterfeit. He binge-watched a bunch of videos on how to spot fakes and compared them carefully. They passed every test. They were real—so he stopped worrying about using them.
For someone trying not to dip into his parents' savings or his brother's paycheck, it was the perfect solution. The payouts weren't huge—none of that "get rich quick" stuff from light novels—but $50 to $60 per task was more than enough for a teen like him.
Syler's eye twitched as he resisted the urge to flick him again. "Alright, then I'll be depending on your funds today." He ordered a spicy chicken sandwich, a drink, and a chocolate-dipped ice cream cone.
Hans continued to observe them in utter confusion. 'One minute they were fighting, and now they were offering to spot money for each other?' He turned his attention to the menu. Most of the options looked greasy and unappetizing to him, but after a minute, he settled on a salad—the least greasy thing he could find.
"You sure you want to eat just a salad, dude? I'm paying. You might not get this chance again," Elias quipped with a silly grin. He was feeling generous.
Hans's eye twitched slightly. "It's okay. I'm not fond of greasy food," he replied with an awkward laugh.
Elias raised an eyebrow. It was the first time he'd seen Hans hesitate to speak. When Hans wasn't talking his ear off about nothing important, he actually seemed... kind of endearing.
Elias glanced at Syler to see if he was noticing it, too, but Syler was frowning, his eyes narrowing at Hans with quiet scrutiny. He scratched his nose, visibly uneasy.
Syler seemed even more put off by Hans than before. Elias hadn't exactly asked if it was okay to bring him along. It made sense if Syler was annoyed by his one-sided decision to let him tag along.
Syler, meanwhile, kept his gaze fixed on Hans, doubts creeping in.
'Maybe I've been too suspicious. Right now he doesn't seem too bad. Was I really mistaken?' he thought—then their order number was called.
"I'll grab it," he offered, standing up and heading to the counter, leaving Elias and Hans alone at the table.
Elias turned toward Hans, who wasn't yapping for once.
"You're quieter than usual," he remarked. "Not that it's a bad thing."
Hans's mouth twitched. "That's pretty rude, don't you think?"
Elias gave a sheepish smile, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Yeah, I guess you're right… But you're usually a chatterbox, so it's a little weird how quiet you are. What's going on?"
Hans paused before smiling faintly. "I feel like I don't understand how your friendships work. Isn't it common sense to be polite and kind to people you're close with?"
Elias blinked. "You mean the way I joke around with Syler? Wait... have you seriously never had real friends before?"
He tilted his head, arms crossed. Hans furrowed his brows but didn't respond.
Elias's mouth fell open. "Wow, you're serious?" He gave Hans a once-over and stroked his chin like he had a beard. "No wonder the way you talk to people feels so off."
Hans pursed his lips, unconvinced. "What's off about it? People usually like the way I talk to them."
Elias paused, thinking.
"Honestly, it feels like you don't know how to talk to people without trying to win them over—like every interaction has to be some kind of trade or deal. That might work when you're negotiating something, but friendships can't last on transactional things alone."
He leaned back slightly, his voice softening.
"Friendships aren't that clean-cut. Real friends are people you can be honest and sometimes vulnerable with, even when there's nothing in it for you. You don't have to speak perfectly or be polite all the time—they won't leave because you spoke out of turn."
Hans crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. "I don't get it. How do you gain respect if you don't give them something they want first?"
"What you're describing sounds more like a boss and subordinate. Real friendship doesn't work if there's a hierarchy. The difference with friends is that you're equals," Elias said, gesturing toward him.
"Equals?" Hans murmured. The word sounded foreign to him. His eyes glazed over as unpleasant memories surfaced. "No one's ever treated me that way," he added, his voice faltering.
"I've always had to give up everything… if I wanted or needed something."
Elias nearly choked in surprise and scratched the back of his head. Had he accidentally hit some weird emotional switch? How was he supposed to respond to that—was there even a way to turn it off? God, could this guy have multiple Kevins in his life? He wasn't sure who Hans was referring to.
"And that pig, too. I give him everything, and he won't even leave me my dignity!" Hans's growled face turned pale. His breath grew shallow and quick. He seemed like he'd forgotten where he was.
Even Elias could tell something was off. But before he could start panicking over what to do, Hans seemed to snap out of it on his own. He steadied his breathing, forcing himself to calm down. 'Get a grip. How could you lose it like that?' he scolded himself.
He saw a hand reach toward him, cautious but steady. He looked up to see Elias offering his hand.
"Look, I'm not good with this stuff and I don't really know what's going on, but let me do this. Let's start fresh. This is me treating you like an equal. Like a friend. I mean it this time," Elias said, his tone sincere.
Hans hesitated, then took the offered hand and shook it.
"Thanks," he said.
Finally, Syler came back with the food. "Sorry for the wait," he said, eyeing the hand Elias and Hans had just shaken with complicated thoughts. "They got some of our orders wrong, so I had to wait a little longer for the rest of it."
Elias pretended like nothing had happened and smiled, grabbing the bag with his order written on the front. "No problem, dude. Came back just in time!" He pulled out his food and started eating. Syler and Hans followed suit.
Once they were done, Elias thought about what they should do next.
"Let's go to the arcade!" he said, leading the other two to the store with the old game machines.
The room was full of colorful lights, catchy music, and the soft pinging of game sounds. Elias pulled out a stack of coins for them to use — and was stingy about it. As they played, Elias managed to win most of the games, except for the first-person shooters. Hans was surprisingly good at those. Syler lost nearly every game, but he didn't have enough energy to care — unless Elias started egging him on.
They spent an hour thoroughly enjoying themselves — even Hans, a little.
Toward the end of the hour, Syler made a pained face. "I gotta go to the restroom."
Elias grinned. "You really ought to stop eating ice cream if you've got a dairy intolerance. Don't fall in the toilet!"
Syler rolled his eyes and did an ear-picking motion as he walked off to find a bathroom. The arcade didn't have one inside. Elias's chuckles could be heard long after Syler disappeared from view.
Sweat soaked through his shirt—he'd just finished a round of Dance Dance Revolution. Hans walked over with a water bottle and a few tissues, handing them to him. The other people had cleared out, and even the cashier was gone, leaving the arcade oddly quiet.
"Thanks," Elias said, taking a swig and drying the back of his neck.
Hans grinned. "No biggie!"
Once rehydrated, Elias looked over at him. "Honestly," he started, "you were a little overwhelming at first, but this was actually fun."
Hans laughed. "Yeah, I didn't think I'd enjoy this either. I've never been to an arcade before."
Elias gave a sympathetic look. "Wow. What a sad life. Did your parents never let you do anything fun?"
Hans smiled bitterly. "I have some vague memories of my mom—good ones. But she died when I was little. My dad didn't give two shits about me and gave me away without a second thought. My… current guardian… is a controlling, obsessive monster. A total pig. That's the best way to describe him."
Elias could see the disgust clearly on his face.
"Oh…" he said, unsure how to respond. "Sorry to hear that. I mean, I can't imagine what that's like. Even if my parents are currently missing, they always treated me well. But hey—you've got me now, buddy." He patted Hans on the back.
His arm felt heavier than expected. Honestly, he hadn't danced that long. Weird. He usually had more energy than this—he exercised harder and longer all the time. Maybe the game had used different muscles?
"Yeah. You're actually a pretty good guy," Hans said with a small smile. "I mean it. It's just a shame."
"Shame? In what way?" Elias asked, mid-yawn. His body was growing more drowsy by the second.
"It's a shame… because I've actually started to kind of like you. But I'm surprised it's taking this long to kick in. I used a pretty strong dose of sedatives. I figured I'd need a lot, but I still underestimated you. You've been full of surprises these past few days," Hans muttered, his smile growing more and more ominous.
"Huh?" Elias blinked, his mind growing fuzzy. His body swayed as he struggled to stay upright. The flashing lights of the machines bled together, and the beeping sounds began to fade.
'Did I get drugged?' The thought barely formed before everything went blurry.
He turned his head toward Hans—just in time to watch his face peel off. No, not his face. A mask.
A familiar, androgynous face appeared beneath it, framed by a waterfall of blood-red hair.
Then everything went black as his body crumpled to the ground.
"Sorry, kid," Chameleon said, a flicker of complicated emotion in his eyes as he spun the brown wig around his finger, watching Elias collapse unconscious. "Business is business."