I Don't Need To Log Out

Arlon woke up the next morning feeling refreshed.

While it was possible for players to drink and even get drunk in Trion, their real bodies remained on Earth. This unique separation allowed them to sober up instantly if needed.

That's exactly what Arlon had done after Lady Rael left the night before. Sobering up quickly, he had carried Shirl, who had fallen asleep from drinking, back to her room.

Rising from his bed, Arlon stretched before summoning his copy to take its place upstairs in the storefront.

As the copy climbed to the main floor, he spotted Charon and was reminded of Lady Rael's revelation the previous night.

So, Charon is cursed. Should I sneak a peak with the Eyes of *****?

The thought lingered, but Arlon couldn't summon the courage to act on it. Checking Charon's stats felt like poking at a sleeping beast—it was dangerous.

"What are you staring at, kid? Is there something on my face?" Charon grumbled, his tone as sharp as ever.

"Ah, I apologize," Arlon replied quickly, shaking the thought away as he headed further inside.

Today marked the start of the tournament's main event.

As the copy prepared to leave, Shirl emerged from behind the curtain, her expression riddled with guilt.

"Sir Arlon," she began hesitantly, "did I do anything rude in front of Lady Rael yesterday? I don't remember much after a certain point."

Her face flushed with embarrassment, clearly regretting her overindulgence.

"You don't have to worry," Arlon said with a grin. "You just fell asleep after that point."

Shirl let out a sigh of relief. "Thank god! I would've been so embarrassed otherwise."

With that, the three of them—the copy, Shirl, and Charon—prepared to head to the tournament site.

Arlon left a bit later, ensuring he donned his mask to maintain his cover.

---

When Arlon arrived at the tournament grounds, he was struck by the transformation.

A massive arena now stood where none had existed the day before. Its grandeur was unmistakable, created to host thousands of players and administrators, its towering walls and intricate design radiating magic.

It was clear this structure hadn't been built by ordinary means—it had been conjured overnight, likely through advanced magic.

Impressive, Arlon thought, taking in the sight.

He scanned the crowd and noticed that most of the players from the preliminary rounds had stayed for the main event.

This will help a lot with the plan.

The previous day, Arlon, Ben, and Leon had decided on a plan that involved the players.

Today, they would make a subtle announcement to ensure player participation extended into the second day, even for those who lost their matches.

The announcement would be vague, designed to avoid attracting attention from potential spies—Mimes who might hinder the operation.

As Arlon pondered the upcoming events, a snail Beastman approached him. She wore a uniform and a name tag that read Tournament Planning Committee.

"Are you Mr. Arlon?" she asked politely.

"Yes, I am," Arlon replied.

"All participants are expected to head inside to learn the tournament rules and matchups."

"Ah, thank you. I'll head in right away," he said, giving her a slight nod before moving toward the entrance.

---

At the end of a long corridor, Arlon entered a room filled with players.

This was the waiting room where the tournament bracket and rules would be shared.

There were 31 other participants in the room, and the moment Arlon stepped inside, all eyes turned toward him.

He could feel their scrutiny even through his mask, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a blade.

These were the strongest players among thousands of competitors, and everyone was sizing each other up.

Arlon scanned the room subtly. He didn't know this, but seven out of the top 10 players on the leaderboard were present, a testament to the caliber of the tournament.

Among them were familiar faces: Pierre, Lei, Zack, and June from the Gamers Guild.

Arlon also noticed Carole sitting nearby, clearly there to support her friends, though she wasn't a participant.

It wasn't surprising that Carole hadn't advanced to the main event. As a priest at this time in Trion, her abilities were more suited to support than direct combat, and she likely hadn't tried to qualify.

Of course, priests would have their places among the fighters in the future.

Still, Arlon made a conscious effort not to look directly at them. As far as anyone knew, Arlon the player wasn't connected to Arlon the guide.

He couldn't risk giving them any reason to suspect otherwise.

As he lingered near the back of the room, a boy who looked about 17 approached him hesitantly.

"Are you Mr. Arlon?" the boy asked, his eyes wide with admiration. "It's really nice to meet you! I'm Evan. I'm a big fan."

Before Arlon could respond, a girl rushed over, grabbing Evan by the arm.

"I'm sorry for his rudeness," she said quickly, tugging him away. "Please excuse us!"

"Hey, let me go!" Evan protested, struggling against her grip.

The girl—Carmen—didn't let up. She dragged Evan back to the other side of the room, ignoring his protests entirely.

Arlon watched, mildly amused. That was unexpected.

Carmen wasn't one of the participants either. She was here solely to support Evan. Unlike most players, she had no interest in combat and hadn't even tried to qualify.

With that minor commotion over, the room settled into an uneasy silence, the participants lost in their own thoughts.

After some time, the doors to the room swung open, and a group of administrators entered, flanked by soldiers.

Ben and Leon were among them, their presence immediately commanding attention.

Ben stepped forward with a warm smile. "Greetings, everyone. First, let me congratulate all of you for advancing to the main event," he began. "As you know, this is the first event we've organized for our saviors. We're proud to see so many of you here today."

His tone shifted slightly as he moved on to the rules.

"Since this is the inaugural event, we want everything to run smoothly. Here are the rules you'll need to abide by:

"First, this is a single-elimination tournament. If you lose, you're out. There will be no loser's bracket, so give it your all in every match.

"Second, matches will take place one at a time. Participants are encouraged to watch the matches from the designated seating area upstairs, which is reserved exclusively for you."

After mentioning some other standard rules, Ben's gaze briefly flicked to Arlon as he continued. "And finally, we strongly urge you to put forth your best effort, even if you believe you can't win. You never know what opportunities may come your way."

The glance was quick, barely noticeable, but Arlon caught it. It was clear Ben's words carried a double meaning. But it wasn't for Arlon, it was the ones that would fight him.

"Today, we'll hold the first 24 matches," Ben went on. "The remaining matches, starting from the quarter-finals, will take place tomorrow. If you win today, you'll need to fight twice. Tomorrow, you'll need to win three matches to claim the championship."

With that, Ben gestured toward a table where a large bracket was being placed. "The tournament bracket is now available. Feel free to check it. The first match will begin in 15 minutes."

The room erupted into motion as players rushed toward the bracket, eager to see their matchups.

Arlon hung back, choosing to wait until the initial crowd dispersed. He wasn't in any rush.

When the commotion died down, he approached the bracket and scanned it carefully.

It seemed fortune was on his side. Of the Gamers Guild members, only Zack was in his half of the bracket. This meant Arlon wouldn't have to fight any of the others until much later—if at all.

He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Poor Zack, he thought. He always seems to draw the short straw when I'm around.

Still, Arlon wasn't about to hold back. While he regretted the inevitability of eliminating Zack, he had his own goals to achieve.

With a deep breath, Arlon stepped back, readying himself for the matches ahead.

As Arlon stepped back from the bracket, the room began to settle into an uneasy calm.

Players who had examined the matchups were now strategizing quietly, their eyes flickering between potential opponents and their own abilities.

A few tried to mask their nervousness with bravado, boasting loudly about their chances.

Zack, standing near Pierre and June, was clearly trying to hide his nerves behind a confident grin.

Arlon noticed his gaze dart to the bracket repeatedly, lingering on Arlon's name in the same half. Even if he won the first match, his second match was against Arlon.

As if sensing Arlon's thoughts, Zack gave him a thumbs-up from across the room, his grin widening into something more genuine.

Arlon allowed himself a small smile in return. He appreciated Zack's determination, even if their inevitable match would end in a way Zack probably wouldn't like.

Just then, an administrator returned to the room, calling out for the first pair of participants.

"June and Alain, please proceed to the arena," he announced. They were the first ones to fight.

June's expression remained composed, her staff resting casually in her hand as she stepped forward.

She exchanged brief words with her friends before following the administrator out of the room.

The remaining players began to filter upstairs to watch the match. Arlon took his time climbing the stairs, choosing a seat near the back of the viewing area. From this vantage point, he could see the entire arena below.

The magic-crafted structure was even more impressive up close, its shimmering walls pulsing faintly with energy.

The arena floor gleamed under the sunlight, its surface flawless and unmarred—a testament to the care that had gone into its creation.

As the combatants entered the arena, the crowd outside roared with excitement.

This is it, Arlon thought. The real tournament begins.