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Chapter 62: How Did Your Brother Lose His Leg?
🕑 Added 2025-10-03 15:04:10 +0000 UTCThe disappearance of Shadowlord sent shockwaves through the Shadow Guild's already fragile structure. Within forty-eight hours, thirty percent of their members had jumped ship, abandoning the guild like rats fleeing a sinking vessel. The remaining members huddled together in nervous clusters, keeping their heads down and avoiding any confrontation that might draw attention from Immortal Banner or its allies.
The story spread through North American servers like wildfire—how Immortal Banner had effectively destroyed a third of Shadow Guild without lifting a finger, using nothing but Alex Morrison's reputation. Players shared the tale with a mixture of awe and amusement, turning it into gaming folklore almost overnight.
"Did you hear? Shadow Guild lost 3,000 members in two days!"
"Immortal Banner didn't even attack them. They just... existed."
"That's what happens when you mess with someone who can buy your whole guild with pocket change."
"Shadowlord probably changed his name and moved to Europe. Can you imagine the embarrassment?"
The incident had an unexpected side effect: Immortal Banner's prestige skyrocketed. Applications flooded in from players desperate to join the legendary guild, but with a hard cap of 5,000 members, they'd been full for months. Quality over quantity had always been their motto, and they weren't about to change now.
Triumph came up with an elegant solution during an officers' meeting. "What if I leave and start a sister guild? Call it Immortal Legion or something. We'd effectively double our capacity while maintaining standards."
"Immortal Medal sounds better," another officer suggested. "Like we're awarding membership to the best players."
"I like it," Alex agreed. "Same standards, same values, just twice the family."
Triumph transferred leadership of his division to another officer and established Immortal Medal within hours. Despite setting incredibly high entry requirements—level 65 minimum, proven raid experience, and recommendations from existing members—the guild filled completely in under two days. The Morrison effect was real.
Now Immortal Banner and Immortal Medal formed a coalition of 10,000 elite players. Combined with their alliances with Perfect Nation and Blade of Destruction, they commanded a force that could reshape server politics at will. No other organization in the region could match their influence, resources, or coordination.
Shadow Guild, meanwhile, teetered on the brink of dissolution. Their remaining members barely logged in, their raid teams had disbanded, and their once-bustling guild hall stood empty most hours. They'd gone from server powerhouse to cautionary tale in record time.
"Shadowlord is truly done," one Immortal Banner member posted in guild chat. "My friend said he hasn't logged in for four days."
"Boss, shouldn't we just take their guild hall now? End this properly?"
"Yeah, it's time for payback! They disrespected our history!"
"We'll take their hall eventually," Alex responded in chat. "But I want Shadowlord to watch it happen. He'll show up eventually—pride won't let him stay hidden forever. When he does, we finish this properly."
"A thousand deaths for Shadowlord!"
"A thousand? That's letting him off easy!"
While his guildmates plotted virtual revenge, Alex sat in his office on a Saturday afternoon, managing both guild politics and studio work. The Fast and Furious update was ready to launch, but there were always last-minute details to handle. He typed responses in guild chat between reviewing code commits and approving marketing materials.
"Brother Alex, I heard about this amazing new restaurant nearby," Isabella Reeves suddenly appeared at his desk, leaning over his shoulder. Her proximity was deliberately close, her perfume unmistakably expensive. "Want to grab lunch together? My treat!"
Isabella had been finding excuses to visit the studio every weekend, always with some transparent reason that fooled nobody. Today she wore a designer sundress that probably cost more than most people's rent, her makeup flawless despite the casual setting.
"Can't do lunch," Alex said without looking up from his screen. "Too much work. You should go though—don't let me stop you."
"Oh." Isabella's perfectly glossed lips formed a pout. She'd been trying for weeks to get Alex's attention, but he remained frustratingly oblivious—or perhaps deliberately obtuse—to her signals.
She lingered for a moment, hoping he'd reconsider, then sighed dramatically and wandered to the break room to play with the office cats. The new restaurant did sound amazing—some fusion place with a Michelin-starred chef—but eating alone felt pathetic when she'd dressed up specifically to impress Alex.
After twenty minutes of feeling sorry for herself while Luna the cat ignored her in favor of sleeping, Isabella decided to check out the restaurant anyway. At least she could bring Alex some takeout, prove she was thinking of him.
The restaurant exceeded expectations. Elegant without being pretentious, packed with well-dressed diners enjoying what looked like incredible food. The hostess seated her immediately—being young, beautiful, and obviously wealthy had its privileges.
"Can I order takeout?" Isabella asked her server after browsing the menu.
"I'm terribly sorry, miss," the waitress replied politely. "We don't offer takeout service. Our chef insists each dish be enjoyed immediately for optimal flavor and presentation."
"But my brother really wants to try your food," Isabella said, putting on her best helpless expression. "He just can't make it here today."
"Oh, where do you live? Perhaps we could make an exception."
"Azure Coast Towers, right next door. Like a five-minute walk."
"Let me speak with my manager. We might be able to accommodate you."
"Thank you so much!"
The waitress hurried to find her manager, catching him between greeting guests. "Sir, we have a situation. That young lady at table nineteen—her brother apparently can't come to the restaurant. She seems really upset about it. Could we possibly make an exception for delivery?"
The manager glanced over at Isabella, noting her designer dress and handbag. Azure Coast Towers meant money—serious money. And the girl did look genuinely disappointed.
"What's wrong with her brother?" he asked.
"She didn't say exactly, just that he couldn't come here. Maybe he's disabled? Or injured?"
"Poor girl. Yes, we'll make an exception. Family should be able to enjoy meals together, regardless of circumstances. Use our thermal containers and have someone deliver it personally. Make sure the presentation stays intact."
"You're so kind, sir. I'll let her know."
The waitress returned to Isabella with a warm smile. "Good news! My manager approved delivery for your brother's special situation. We'll have someone accompany you to ensure the food arrives perfectly."
"Oh, wonderful! Thank you!" Isabella felt oddly guilty about the "special situation" comment but decided not to correct it. Technically, being a workaholic was a special situation, right?
After ordering half the menu—Alex probably hadn't eaten properly in days—Isabella waited while the kitchen prepared everything. She noticed other diners glancing at her sympathetically and wondered what the staff had told them.
In the kitchen, the head chef supervised the packing personally. "Xu, you'll deliver this order," he told his apprentice. "The young lady's brother had his legs amputated and can't come to the restaurant. Handle everything with extra care."
"Amputated?" Xu's eyes widened. "Both legs?"
"That's what I heard. Poor family. Actually, add a serving of our bone marrow soup—on the house. It's supposed to help with healing. And Xu? Be respectful. Don't stare or ask questions."
"Of course, Chef. I understand completely."
Xu loaded the thermal containers onto a delivery cart with reverent care. He'd broken his arm once and remembered how frustrating immobility was. Losing both legs? Unimaginable. No wonder the sister looked so sad.
"Miss, everything's ready," the waitress announced. "My colleague Xu will accompany you home."
"Thank you so much," Isabella said, genuinely touched by the service. After paying—the bill was astronomical, but Alex was worth it—she led Xu out of the restaurant.
"Your restaurant is really wonderful," she said as they walked. "The service is exceptional."
"Thank you, miss. We try our best." Xu pushed the cart carefully, avoiding any bumps that might disturb the food. "Oh, I should mention—our chef included complimentary bone marrow soup. He said it's excellent for recovery and healing. Very nutritious."
"Bone marrow soup?" Isabella blinked. "For healing?"
"Yes, it's supposed to help with bone regeneration and strength. My grandmother swears by it." Xu's voice dropped sympathetically. "I understand how difficult this must be. Actually... how did your brother lose his legs?"
Isabella stopped walking. "Lose his legs?"
"The accident," Xu prompted gently. "Was it recent?"
"Oh my god," Isabella covered her mouth, fighting back laughter as she realized what had happened. "His legs are fine! He has both of them!"
Xu looked confused. "But... they said he couldn't come to the restaurant?"
"Because he's glued to his computer!" Isabella giggled. "He's a workaholic who forgets to eat when he's focused on projects. I have to bring him food or he'd survive on energy drinks!"
"So he's not... disabled?"
"Only by his own stubbornness!"
"What about paralyzed? He's not paralyzed either?"
"No, definitely not paralyzed!"
"Then he..."
Isabella was still chuckling as she explained, "He's a complete workaholic. Works himself to exhaustion, forgets to eat, won't leave his office. If I don't bring him food, I swear he'd starve to death at his desk!"
"Oh... OH!" Xu's face went through several expressions—confusion, embarrassment, relief—before settling on rueful amusement. "I'm so sorry! When they said he couldn't come, and you looked sad, everyone assumed... and then it got passed along... I just said such unlucky things!"
"It's okay, you meant well! You were just being caring—oh, we're here!"
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