Lucien's jaw dropped when he reached the old woman's home. The place was stunning—nothing like what he'd pictured for someone selling food on street corners.
It nestled into a quiet lane where the air hung thick with old dust and soy. The house rose two stories of mismatched charm and faded elegance, its red brick walls wearing their age like badges of honor, patched here and there with stubborn grout and streaks of soot.
The front gate—tall iron bars weathered to bronze—stood guard over a tiny courtyard barely wide enough for a single bench and three sun-bleached buckets. A wall of pale grey brick separated the house from the world, its surface cracked like weathered hands that had known hard work.
The front of the house spilled over with life in a strangely soothing way. Potted plants cascaded from the small second-floor balcony, their leaves reaching for sunlight. A green cushion hung crooked from the railing—maybe drying, maybe blocking wind. It didn't matter. Someone had claimed this space and made it theirs.
Nothing flashy about the place. But it breathed with life. Rooted. The kind of house that had weathered many seasons, sheltered many souls, and still stood patient, ready for whatever came next.
The lady led Lucien to where her grandson lived and stayed. The space made Lucien's chest tighten. His bedroom back home could swallow this entire area—main parlor, grandson's sitting room, and bedroom combined.
"You can rest here tonight. It's late, but I'll whip up something quick for you."
Lucien's eyes narrowed.
"And you're not charging me? Wait—do you know who I am? You're not buttering me up so I'll get your grandson into my dad's company, right? Because I won't do it."
Too many parents had cornered him with shameless requests like that.
"You seem to be asking for another knock."
The lady's tongue clicked against her teeth before she turned away. Lucien swept the entire place, his fingers probing for audio bugs and hidden cameras. Years of experience had taught him exactly where to look.
After finding nothing, he moved inside and continued his search. That's when he spotted a wooden box tucked away. Fine writing across the top read: "EVO_Head Gear."
Hope sparked in his chest. He pried open the box, and his heart nearly stopped.
*Just how lucky can one person get?*
The old granny's grandson played Evolution Online too.
His grin stretched wide as he lifted out the headgear and its tangle of wires. He pieced everything together, then flicked off the lights. The power supply blinked once, twice, then died. The bright room plunged into thick darkness.
"Am I being messed with? Is God—or whoever's up there—having a laugh at my expense?"
Footsteps approached. The old lady's voice called out, a bright torch cutting through the black.
"Young man! Young man! Are you all right?"
Lucien pushed to his feet and felt his way toward her voice.
"Yes ma'am, I'm fine."
The moment he spoke, power surged back. Light flooded every corner.
"Oh..."
Lucien blinked hard. He'd never seen electricity just... vanish and return like that. His face twisted with confusion as he turned to the lady.
"Granny, where exactly is this place?"
"Strange question. What's with that face you're making, you runt?"
Lucien's shoulders sagged.
"It's just weird that the electricity went down. I've never seen anything like that happen in my entire life."
He waved his hand dismissively.
"Well, doesn't matter. That thing—your grandson owns it? Does it work?"
The old lady followed his pointing finger to the helmet sitting outside the box. She exhaled slowly. Lucien caught a flicker of something—tension, maybe—but when he looked closer, her face showed nothing but calm indifference.
"You can have it. That useless toy everyone's obsessed with these days. No matter how real that world there feels, it can never be reality."
She turned and walked away, leaving Lucien alone in his room.
He stood there, confusion washing over him. Why had she said that? And why did the air feel charged, like electricity waiting to strike?
Either way, he grabbed the helmet's manual and got to work. After setting everything up, the lady returned with a tray of food.
They sat together for dinner—simple noodles loaded with boiled meat cut into tiny pieces that melted into the broth.
When he finished, the lady wished him good night and disappeared.
Lucien turned toward the helmet, excitement bubbling in his chest. He didn't expect the same gaming experience as before, but still—something was better than nothing.
First, he sat on the bed and logged into his profile with his new phone. He transferred three hundred thousand dollars and began hunting for items to buy. After nearly three hours of intense browsing, he even watched EvoTube videos on how to slay higher-level monsters, items that would make him stronger, gear that would make him feel like a level 120 player.
While scrolling through EvoTube, he stumbled across "How I Made My First Ten Million Dollars as an EvoTuber." That caught his interest too.
Not as much as killing Godzilla, though.
Lucien's grin spread wide as he exhaled.
"Tonight... I will kill Godzilla."
Or Godzilla would kill him. It could go either way.
But what mattered was this—in the most unexpected way, he'd found his path back into the game. Evolution Online wasn't bound by gear restrictions. Once you logged in, anywhere, with any equipment, you accessed the same single account.
Lucien lay back and gently placed the headgear over his head.
As it settled, the device unfolded, covering his entire face like a helmet. Blue lights flickered across the surface. Soon, Lucien felt himself sinking deeper and deeper into his own consciousness.
Then he heard that familiar voice—and it sounded thrilled by his return.
[Welcome Back to Evolution Online]
Behind the entrance to Lucien's room, the old lady watched with calm, indifferent eyes.
She sighed and turned away.
"Let the games begin, O son of god."