“Huh!? What? Goddess’s Curse?”

  Alex murmured, his gaze fixed on the notification hovering before his eyes. A curse? From a god he had never even heard of? Before he could delve further into his thoughts, a familiar voice broke through his contemplation.

  “My lord, are you well?” Gabriel’s voice carried a rare trace of concern. “You suddenly fell silent, as if lost in another world.”

  Alex blinked, pushing aside his thoughts. “It’s nothing. Take the hero Axilia to the dungeon—let her ponder my offer.”

  “As you command.”

  With practiced efficiency, Lucifero dragged Axilia’s lifeless-eyed body out of the throne hall, disappearing into the darkness. Gabriel remained by the throne, ever watchful, as Alex logged out.

  In the real world, within the confines of a lavishly furnished room, a coffin-like device slowly opened with a hiss. A frail young man emerged, his body weak, yet his mind still fixated on the anomaly he had just encountered.

  Alex was nothing more than a dying man outside the game.

  “What... was that?” he muttered, rubbing his temples. Twenty years. He had played VR games for two whole decades, yet never had he seen a notification like that.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door creaking open.

  “Master Alex, it’s time for dinner. Your father has requested a meeting with you.”

  The voice belonged to a maid—one he had seen countless times but never truly paid attention to. She stepped forward, only to suddenly freeze. Her breath hitched as she saw blood trickling from Alex’s nose.

  “My lord, you’re bleeding!”

  Before he could even react, she hurried toward him, attempting to wipe away the crimson streak. It was only then that Alex himself noticed it. Had he been so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t even feel it?

  Awkwardly, he pushed the maid’s hand aside, taking the handkerchief from her grasp. “Oh... it’s nothing. Just take me to my father.”

  The dining hall was vast—almost unnecessarily so. At the center of a long, extravagant table sat two men, seated at opposite ends.

  On one side, Alex.

  On the other, his father.

  An aging man whose presence exuded an overwhelming authority. Despite his years, his sharp eyes remained piercing, his very aura oppressive.

  Servants moved silently, placing dishes before them, yet neither spoke. The atmosphere was heavy, thick with unspoken words.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Finally, his father broke the silence. “I heard about your health.” His voice was detached—emotionless. “How is it?”

  Alex hesitated, gripping his utensils tightly. His father already knew the answer. Why ask?

  “I’m fine.” A lie. “But... the doctors said I have about a month left.”

  “Oh. I see.” His father’s expression didn’t shift. Not even the slightest flicker of emotion.

  A chill crawled down Alex’s spine.

  He had hoped—no, foolishly wished—that perhaps hearing his son’s impending death would stir something in the old man. Some grief. Some regret. Even the slightest sign that he cared.

  But no.

  Nothing.

  The fork in Alex’s hand trembled. His chest burned with frustration, sorrow, and something darker.

  “That’s it?” His voice came out hoarse. His hands clenched into fists. “Is that all you have to say!?”

  With a loud crash, he shoved his plate aside, food spilling onto the pristine white tablecloth. His vision blurred with rage.

  “I’m your son, damn it! Do you even care that I’m dying? Do you even care about me at all!?”

  Silence.

  Then, his father exhaled, setting down his utensils with a calm, practiced motion. He dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin before finally speaking.

  “What do you expect me to do?” His tone was cold. “I’ve done enough for you.”

  Alex froze.

  His father’s gaze settled on him, indifferent. Detached. Uncaring.

  “Do you even comprehend how much money I’ve spent on you?” he continued, rising from his seat. “Keeping you alive all these years? Carrying the burden of a useless, dying son?”

  Alex felt his breath hitch.

  “I should have let you die years ago,” his father murmured, almost absentmindedly. “It would have been less troublesome.”

  Something inside Alex shattered.

  As the older man turned to leave, Alex’s lips curled in anger, bitterness dripping from his words. “You never even wanted me, did you?”

  His father paused.

  “You’re lucky you have an older son—a genius to carry on your legacy,” Alex spat, his voice trembling. “If it weren’t for him, our family name would’ve died with me.”

  His father didn’t even spare him a glance. With measured steps, he walked away, disappearing into the halls beyond.

  Alex was left alone, his vision blurring, his heart pounding. The servants moved in silence, one of them gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

  “My lord... shall I escort you back to your room?”

  Back in his room, Alex sat slumped in his wheelchair, staring at the ceiling.

  His mind was a storm.

  Anger. Grief. Emptiness. Every emotion tangled into an unbearable knot in his chest. In his trembling hand, a bottle of wine.

  He glanced at the coffin-like gaming device beside him—the very thing he had spent his entire life inside. His only escape. His only world.

  With a choked breath, he raised the bottle and hurled it against the machine.

  A sharp crack.

  The bottle shattered, shards of glass flying as crimson liquid spilled over the console.

  “It’s all your fault.” His voice trembled. “You made me want to live... only to remind me that I was already dying.”

  In a fit of fury, he struck the machine again. And again.

  Then—

  BZZZT!

  A sharp jolt of electricity surged through him. Sparks burst from the machine, the scent of burning circuits filling the air.

  The door burst open. The maid screamed.

  “Doctor! Someone, help!”

  Alex’s vision blurred.

  His body felt heavy, his consciousness slipping into an endless abyss.

  Then—

  [Ding!]

  A sound.

  Faint. Familiar.

  The unmistakable chime of a system notification from Eldritch Dominion.

  “Huh...?”

  Blood dripped onto the floor. The ceiling above him blurred.

  [Congratulations! You have reached your 20th Anniversary in Eldritch Dominion. As a reward, you have been granted a special gift.]

  [Ding!]

  [Transferring data...*******]

  “Am I... dreaming?” His consciousness faded.

  Somewhere in the darkness, the system’s voice echoed on.

  [Ding!]

  [Error.]

  [The Goddess’s Curse has caused an unknown anomaly.]

  [Warning.]

  **[Connecting to ****...]