Online Game: Starting With SSS-Ranked Summons

The innkeeper, a stout man with a welcoming smile, looked up as Arthur approached. "Ah, welcome back, sir. What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to rent a room," Arthur said, pulling out his coin pouch to retrieve 50 bronze coins. "How much?"

The innkeeper, a stout man with a welcoming demeanour, smiled. "One silver coin a day."

Arthur paused, his hand carrying the bronze coins halfway to the counter. "One silver coin?" he repeated, his eyebrows shooting up. "Isn't it 50 bronze coins?"

The innkeeper's smile didn't waver. "Ah, yes, we do offer the 50 bronze coin package, but that's only for women."

Arthur froze, staring at the man as if he'd just grown a second head. "Wait… what? Only for women? Are you serious?"

"Quite serious," the innkeeper replied, adjusting his apron. "It's a promotional package. We call it 'Ladies' Rest Special.' Women's comfort and safety are a top priority here, you see."

Arthur's mouth opened, then closed again as he processed the explanation. His thoughts spiraled into confusion. Seriously? In a world like this? Isn't it usually the other way around where men get cheaper prices to fend for themselves? Feminists would have a field day in this world.

Finally, he let out a resigned sigh, shaking his head with a wry smile. "Well, I guess equality looks different depending on which world you're in."

The innkeeper chuckled politely, clearly unbothered by Arthur's bewilderment.

"Alright, fine," Arthur said, fishing out a silver coin from his pouch. "Here you go."

As the innkeeper pocketed the coin, he handed Arthur a small brass key. "Room 203, right up the stairs. You'll find it cosy, and clean."

"I made sure to place it next to the woman you asked for earlier," He winked at him.

Arthur froze again, his mind grinding to a halt for the second time in less than two minutes.

'Jasmine? Of course, it's next to her. Why wouldn't it be? this person really thought he had done something good, huh.'

The innkeeper chuckled.

"Alright, thanks."

The innkeeper gave him a polite nod. "Enjoy your stay, sir. And don't forget, our dining area serves a delightful breakfast every morning."

Reaching the door marked 203, he slid the key into the lock and stepped inside.

The room was small but cosy, with a single bed, a wooden desk with a chair, and a window overlooking the quiet village square. It was an exact replica of Jasmine's room next door.

"To think that I paid 100 dollars just to stay in a small, medieval room in another world. Wow, Jasmine's extravagance is really rubbing on me. I need to cut her off somehow." He muttered, with a serious expression on his face.

Shaking his head, Arthur leaned back on the bed and let his thoughts drift for a moment. "Time to log out," he muttered to himself.

Moments later, the familiar sterile walls of the hospital room appeared before him.

Arthur's gaze immediately fell to Charlotte's bed, only to find it empty. His heart skipped a beat as a rush of questions flooded his mind.

"It's been about eight hours in the game," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Which means it's been four hours here. Her treatment should've finished by now. So why isn't she back?"

The uneasy feeling settling in his chest spurred him to action. Just as he was about to get up and check with the nurse, the door creaked open.

A nurse entered, carefully moving a wheelchair into the room. The faint hum of the wheels against the floor filled the silence.

"Everything is going to be alright, sweetheart," the nurse said softly, her smile warm and reassuring as she gently pushed the wheelchair further inside.

Arthur's eyes locked onto Charlotte, his shoulders relaxing slightly. She sat in the chair, her small frame seeming even more fragile than usual.

Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, her head bowed, allowing her dark hair to fall like a curtain around her pale face.

She didn't look up, even as the wheelchair was positioned by her bed.

"Charlotte…" Arthur said, his voice quiet but carrying enough weight to fill the room.

At the sound of his voice, her head tilted slightly, just enough for her eyes to meet his.

"She did incredibly well during her first session," the nurse explained, her tone kind and professional. "But it was a long treatment. She might be a bit tired and overwhelmed for a while."

Arthur nodded, his jaw tightening as he glanced between Charlotte and the nurse. "Thanks," he said simply. "I'll take it from here."

The nurse gave a small, encouraging smile before stepping out of the room, leaving Arthur and Charlotte alone.

Arthur crouched down in front of the wheelchair, his gaze level with hers. "Hey," he said softly, trying to catch her eyes again. "How are you feeling?"

Charlotte didn't respond, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her hospital gown. She avoided his gaze, her posture withdrawn and tense.

Arthur exhaled quietly, shifting to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of her. He didn't push her to speak or better put—use sign language.

He knew better than to rush her, especially with what she was going through.

'She must be feeling lots of things, considering it was her first treatment session.'

Instead, he reached out and gently placed a hand over hers, his touch light and non-intrusive. She flinched slightly but didn't pull away.

"You don't have to say anything," he murmured, his tone low and soothing. "I'm here."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between them. Then, ever so slowly, her grip on the fabric of her gown loosened. Her hands relaxed slightly under his.

Arthur smiled faintly, his heart easing at the small sign of progress. "See? That's already better," he said, his voice carrying a hint of warmth. "You've been through a lot today. You're allowed to feel tired, or frustrated, or whatever else."

Charlotte glanced at him from under her long lashes, her expression softening. She raised her hands tentatively, her fingers moving in small, hesitant motions.

Tired, she signed, her movements slow.

Arthur nodded, his smile widening. "I figured. The treatment's no joke. But you did it. That's what matters."

Her lips twitched slightly, almost forming a smile of her own, but it quickly faded as her eyes lowered again.

Arthur tilted his head, studying her. "Something else on your mind?" he asked gently.

Charlotte hesitated, her hands hovering uncertainly before she signed again. Scared.

Arthur's chest tightened, but he kept his expression calm. "Scared of what?" he asked, his tone soft.

Charlotte hesitated, her hands twitching slightly in her lap. She averted her gaze and sank deeper into the wheelchair, retreating into the silence she so often used as a shield.

Arthur watched the shift, understanding dawning in his eyes.

She was putting her walls back up, returning to her earlier demeanour.

His heart ached, but he didn't press her further.

"It's okay," he said quietly, his tone warm and unwavering.
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"You don't have to explain if you're not ready." He said, staring into her eyes.

Charlotte's fingers gripped the armrests of the wheelchair tightly, her knuckles turning white.