Maids VS Apocalypse

Mark remained silent for a while, staring at the piece of cake placed in front of him. After much thinking, he got his thoughts in order and came to an answer.

"Only idiots would let delusions get to their heads." He heaved a sigh and pushed the small plate toward his maid. "Besides, I’m of the opinion that we’re more screwed if this turns out to be a novel."

The corners of Franco’s mouth curled up.

"Uh-oh, and what makes you think that?"

Mark thought for a while before replying.

"A novel is only enjoyable when you’re a reader," He said. "Being the protagonist or one of the main cast is simply a nightmare.

You would always be at the center of an event or get dragged into some mess. You will suffer, and suffer, and suffer some more, and all of it would be just for the entertainment of some people with nothing better to do.

Worse still, if the author turns out to be one of those sadistic m*therf*ckers, not even the protagonist would have a happy ending."

Even as she bit into the cake he passed to her, Lara couldn’t help but turn a stern gaze to her master when she heard the crudeness of his speech.

When he was done, Mark noticed that the entire room went silent. He looked up and saw that everyone was giving him complicated looks.

"Who would have thought the lad was a philosopher," Ben spoke with a smile. "It is as you say. A lot of stories are about overcoming challenges and doing the impossible. Reading them is one thing and living through them is another."

"The story doesn’t even have to be fictional," Franco added. "Life can just happen to you and it would put most novels to shame."

"Guess It doesn’t really matter." Alex laughed. "I mean, whether it’s a novel or not, we have no say in how the story goes."

"If this is a novel, then..." Raising his cup, Ramsay paused a moment before adding "Then the author must really suck at his job."

He downed what remained of his drink then slammed the cup down. Silence filled the room once more. The drunk Sergeant was confused when no one laughed or commented on what he said. His gaze met that of Mark and a frown twisted his face.

"Hey now, don’t tell me you didn’t notice." his body jerked slightly. All that drinking was showing itself in a hiccup. "You’re the protagonist of this story! You should’ve figured it out by now."

When he spoke before, the Sergeant’s tone was so serious that they all thought he had something important to say. To Mark’s disappointment, however, it seems all of it was just the ravings of a hammered drunkard.

He was about to dismiss everything when Ramsay spoke again.

"You pass out for a while then wake up to find the maid. You wander around for some time then end up in a car that will crash one way or another.

You try to fight the one who causes you to crash but can’t win so you use all the AP you have to raise the maids level.

In the end, powerful allies come to save your ass and you end up passing out again."

With every sentence he spoke, Mark’s eyes widened little by little. The events Ramsay described sounded familiar, but when he tried to recall the details he came across a problem.

"There are some differences but it’s essentially the same story repeating itself." Ramsay laughed. "I mean, it happens sometimes in long stories, but yours barely started!"

It all seemed to click just then. Mark was under the impression that his life had gotten a lot more chaotic since the voices in his head stopped, but after listening to the drunk sergeant it felt like there was method to the madness.

He had gone through two major events the climax of which was a battle against an enemy far more powerful than himself, but it wasn’t just that.

Even the less important details had counterparts, like how they fought the smaller lizardmen before Malarak and the Stone Rhinos before the Red Hoods.

"Hey now, what’s there to be upset about?" Ramsay nudged him with his elbow. "Having a crappy author isn’t so bad. At the very least you’ll be getting that harem power fantasy you always wanted. It’s us side characters who should be worried!"

Laughing, the Sergeant smacked Mark’s shoulder several times before reaching for another large bear bottle to refill his cup from. A massive hand grabbed his arm before he could.

"Alright, that’s enough booze for the night."

Ramsay didn’t appreciate the big guy stepping in to stop him and was about to complain. Before he could open his mouth, however, a boulder-like fist smacked his head and knocked him out cold.

"Sorry, lad," Ben got up and tossed the unconscious Sergeant over his shoulder. "You know what booze does to some people."

"Well, I guess this is where the party ends." Franco stood from his seat as well. "Once again, welcome to the squad, kid."

The Italian waved casually then turned away to leave but froze without taking a step.

"Where the hell do you think you’re going." Elya had appeared in his way at some point. She stood with her arms crossed and her feet firmly planted into the floor, glaring furiously at the man who was twice her height. "We still have cleaning to do."

Remaining silent, Franco slowly lowered his gaze until it met that of his female squadmate. Frowning, he sighed and spoke in an annoyed tone.

"I thought I warned you not to stand so close. I almost stepped on you."

Veins bulged on Elya’s head and her lips curled into a smile.

"Guess age didn’t go easy on your eyesight." She said. "Hope it doesn’t do the same for your hair."

"There are ways to fix eyesight and regrow hair." Franco shot back. "Unfortunately, nothing can be done about height."

"How many times do I have to teach you this lesson, old man?"

"I have always been a slow learner."

The tension continued to rise and Soul Pressure slowly emanated from the two. Just when it seemed like they would clash, Franco heaved a sigh and scratched his head.

"Alright, I get it." He said. "I was just going out for a smoke. You can go ahead and rest. I will handle the cleanup and take the first shift."