The steaming dumplings hit the table!
The takeout sides—braised meats, sauces, and cold dishes Zoey Parker ordered—arrived too.
And, of course, ice-cold beer was a must!
Pop—
Zoey cracked open a frosty beer and took a big gulp. Foam clung to her lips, making her look like a kitten sneaking milk.
"Man, that's refreshing!" Zoey smacked her lips, satisfied.
The beer was meant for Gus Harper and the other two.
But Zoey was in high spirits today and joined in.
Dinner was lively, filled with cheerful chatter.
The trio's college stories had Zoey laughing hard.
They covered everything—college days, work, and funny moments from WindyPeak Games' early days—sparking bursts of laughter.
The side dishes dwindled, and the dumplings vanished.
"Alright, let's raise a glass!" Zoey, face flushed, lifted her beer mug after the last dumpling.
Gus sighed, watching her.
A case of beer for four—about three bottles each.
For the three guys, it was nothing, just enough to loosen up.
But for Zoey? A lot.
She rarely drank.
Gus had urged her to ease up, enjoy the meal without drinking.
But today, she was oddly pumped, almost giddy, toasting all three.
Result?
Zoey was grinning, a bit silly, cheeks red, eyes hazy.
She wasn't the sharpest sober, and now she seemed even more out of it.
"Cheers!" she called.
They clinked mugs, cold beer sloshing, wrapping up the fun dinner.
Well-fed, well-hydrated!
Luke Bennett and Jake Rivers helped Gus tidy up, didn't linger, sipped some tea, chatted briefly, and left.
Free meal, good vibes, hyping their main man, cleaning up, tea, and a quick exit.
Luke Bennett? A pro wingman, nailing it.
As the hallway door opened, Luke and Jake tossed their trash in the bin.
Closing the lid, Luke handed Jake a cigarette: "What's on your mind? You look lost."
"Just thinking about dinner," Jake said, frowning seriously.
"Dinner? What's wrong?" Luke asked, lighting up, puzzled.
Jake explained: "Gus poured in eight servings of vinegar and finished half the bottle at home."
"And Ms. Parker? Peeling garlic the whole time, ate half a head herself…"
"So you barely talked because you were counting their condiments?" Luke was baffled by Jake's focus.
"What's your point?"
"So I was thinking…" Jake took a deep drag, exhaled, face serious: "If they kissed, would it taste like pickled garlic?"
"Couples have nicknames, right? Should we call Gus and Ms. Parker the Pickled Garlic Pair?"
Luke: …
Seeing no response, Jake glanced at him curiously.
Luke was scrolling his phone.
"What're you doing? Calling someone?" Jake asked.
"Mental health clinic," Luke said, stubbing out his cigarette, exhaling heavily.
"No worries, Jake, don't lose hope. I'll get you the best neurologist."
"We'll fix that brain of yours."
"Cost doesn't matter!"
…
"This isn't about money!"
Meanwhile, at Gus's place, facing a giggling, tipsy Zoey acting wild, Gus was at a loss!
"Zoey Parker, are you hearing yourself?" Gus bit into a cucumber, rolling his eyes.
"A cucumber with a funny face carved on it? Forget if it exists—have you ever seen one?"
"Where am I supposed to buy that?!"
Ridiculous!
Gus's worst fear came true!
He'd warned Zoey at dinner to slow down on the beer, worried she'd get out of hand.
He couldn't stop her.
As soon as Luke and Jake left, she went off.
First, she demanded a cucumber with a funny face carved on it, claiming it was payback for her smiley cucumber earlier.
Gus said such a thing didn't exist. She rolled on the couch, whining like a kid.
Exasperated, Gus carved a goofy face on a cucumber to calm her.
But it didn't stop there.
After munching the funny cucumber, Zoey dragged Gus to play Overcooked.
Dizzy, she kept messing up dishes, getting so frustrated she teared up.
After calming her, Zoey, somehow, insisted on chess.
Losing to Gus, she cheated.
Her bishop was "Dumbo," crossing rivers. Her knight was a "super horse," jumping three times. Her pawn was a "special forces" unit, charging like a tank.
She even snatched a piece by Gus's king, claiming it was her undercover agent, waiting for its moment.
Eating, gaming, chess, movies…
Gus was exhausted.
Just one night!
But it made Gus swear Zoey would never touch alcohol again!
She was a handful!
Finally!
As the movie credits rolled on the living room projector!
Zoey calmed down.
Gus glanced over—her eyelids were drooping, head bobbing like a sleepy bug.
"Alright," Gus patted her. "You're beat. Wash up and hit the sack."
"Uh… mm…" Zoey jolted awake, eyes heavy, ready to crash, but stubbornly shook her head: "Not sleepy… You're finally hanging out… I'm not done yet."
Maybe the beer and sleepiness loosened her tongue—her inner thoughts slipped out.
Gus froze.
Looking at the girl fighting to stay awake, dazed, cheeks flushed.
A strange warmth stirred in him.
He reached to pat her head but hesitated, hand pausing mid-air, then settled on her shoulder.
"How about we hang tomorrow? It's late—time for bed."
"Mmm… okay…" Zoey mumbled, blinking hard, glancing at the clock: "Can we… really hang tomorrow?"
"Yep," Gus nodded firmly. "Tomorrow's Sunday. No work."
"Mmm…" Zoey's words slurred, voice soft: "But you're… always working."
"Not tomorrow," Gus said without hesitation. "No work."
"Hmm… heh…" Zoey's voice faded: "Then… amusement park… roller coaster… carousel…"
"Deal, we'll head out in the morning," Gus said, gently patting her shoulder.
Zoey, using her last bit of clarity, mumbled: "You… good… Gus…"
"What?" Gus leaned in, not catching it.
But Zoey was out, head resting on his shoulder, breathing softly, fast asleep.
The living room's dim nightlight cast a warm orange glow, adding charm to the quiet night.
Gus's heart felt like that light.
In a long-dark place, a spark flickered, tugging at his heartstrings.
Like a spring in cracked soil, a green bud on a dry tree.
Like blowing dust off an old book and seeing a lovely face in the haze.
Sometimes frowning, sometimes smiling—her joy, anger, sorrow, and fear painted his dreams.
Now, that face was curled beside him, head gently on his shoulder, breathing softly.
Gus tilted his head slightly.
Her shiny, peach-scented hair was close, but he stopped short.
He pursed his lips, grabbed his phone, and snapped a photo.
Click.
Zoey, wrapped in a blanket like a cozy critter, and Gus, smiling with a V-sign, frozen in time.
"Well…" Gus sighed softly, murmuring: "You made me sleep on the sofa at the hotel…"
"But you're unfair, so I'll be fair…"
He gently scooped Zoey up, carrying her to her room, laid her on the bed, paused, then left, closing the door.
Click.
The door shut. Zoey stirred, mumbling dreamily: "Coward…"
…
The next day, Sunday.
The Season Pass project was moving fast.
Since Max Wheeler pitched the in-app purchase system, the team's energy surged.
With everyone pitching in, the project was two-thirds done.
The in-app system—passes and lottery boxes—was nearly complete.
The team was fired up.
Money was secondary.
They wanted to see how this new in-app purchase model would shake up the market.
Designers loved it.
But their views were subjective.
The market's verdict? That was up to players.
Now, in-app reward items were mostly set.
The planning and art teams, after talks, finalized Jake Rivers' Pilot suit as the pass's grand prize.
Lottery box rewards, like legendary and lower-tier gun skins, were locked in.
So!
All that remained were the heirlooms for the first ten legendary characters—no final plan yet!
Max Wheeler and Jake Rivers had asked Chief Director Gus Harper about this.
His answer: enrich the first wave of boxes, spark players' excitement, and encourage trying new legends.
The first batch of legendary heirlooms would drop together.
Basic forms and concepts were assigned to Jake, leading the art team.
Think Bloodhound's axe, Wraith's kunai, Lifeline's baton, Pathfinder's gloves.
Today!
Luke Bennett, Jake Rivers, Max Wheeler, and Jonah York, the team's core, discussed the heirloom draft.
Finally!
They summarized adjustments and plans.
"Looks good. No issues here," Jonah York said in the online meeting, nodding approval.
"What about you, Manager Wheeler?"
"No objections," Max Wheeler said. "This design should draw players in."
"I'm good too. No big suggestions," Luke Bennett added with a smile. "I handle the code, but it's mostly on Jake."
"No problem," Jake Rivers said. "The changes aren't major, so it's doable."
"Great!" Luke clapped, announcing unanimous approval. "Next, Gus reviews it. I'll reach out…"
Luke removed his headset, grabbed his phone, and dialed Gus.
Oddly, Gus, who always picked up within three rings, didn't answer.
"Weird…" Luke frowned, trying Gus's chat app.
No response.
"Huh?" Luke, confused, left a voice message: "Gus, what's up? Heirloom plan's solid—need your eyes on it."
But!
Before he set the phone down!
Ding!
Five words popped up in the chat:
Gus Harper: On a date! Do not disturb!
Meanwhile!
At Seattle Funland, a girl in a cute pink jumpsuit, hair in a bun, grinned mischievously and pocketed her phone.
She grabbed two ice cream cones from the vendor, thanked them, and skipped toward the tall man in a Mickey Mouse watch.
"Gus—ice cream!"