I Accidentally Became the Guild's Therapist
Chapter 18: Love, Slimes, and New Doujin
Livia Marcelline Quinn, Mental Supporter Lv. 5 and currently skill-less, buried her face in her Therapist's Log. Its pages remained stubbornly blank, much like her emotional radar. Alaric's shattered faith still echoed in her mind, a raw wound she couldn't heal, let alone understand, without her Empathic Insight. The guild's camp, usually a chaotic comfort, now felt like a stage where she was performing without a script, her connections frayed. Miles watched, unreadable. Nyx, distant. Bron and Phina, still absorbed in their quirks, somehow felt further away than ever.
A notification pinged, jarringly cheerful: [Server-Wide Event: Festival of Love! Starts in 00:00:59! Prepare for Emotional Overload!]
"Emotional overload is my default setting, system," Livia muttered, swatting at the air. Her progress bar remained stagnant at Mental Supporter Lv. 5: 1800/5000 EXP. The temporary return of her skills felt like a distant, cruel joke. Now what? Am I supposed to solve everyone's love lives with just... awkward silence?
The camp instantly transformed. Glowing hearts materialized, floating lanterns shaped like cupids bobbed in the air, and a new background music track, saccharine and overly romantic, replaced the usual combat anthems. Players, usually focused on loot and raids, now sported "Lover's Aura" buffs and chased after specific NPCs, shouting declarations of affection. Even some monsters were seen holding hands.
"This is going to be a disaster," Livia groaned, already anticipating the absurd confessions heading her way. Her prediction was accurate.
First came Bron "Bronie" Ironslam, stomping over with a giant, heart-shaped shield. "Buffer! I need your advice!" he boomed, startling a nearby NPC. "I want to confess my undying loyalty to... the concept of Heavy Armor! But how do I make it romantic?" Livia stared. Of course.
Next was Phina Duskveil, gliding majestically, her slime Glimmer pulsating with a rhythmic, romantic glow. "Empath Eternal!" she purred, her eyes gleaming. "The Festival of Love demands a grand gesture! Glimmer and I are ready to formalize our bond. Do you know a reputable interspecies officiant?" Livia's jaw dropped. They're actually doing it.
Nyx Shadowmint, ever the subtle one, merely slunk past, his Hello Kitty flashlight somehow emitting tiny, pink heart-shaped beams. He paused, glancing at Livia, a faint blush visible even from afar. He didn't speak, but the intention was clear. Oh, no. He's probably going to try to propose with a stealth attack, Livia thought, burying her face in her hands.
But the real chaos came from beyond the game's immediate confines. A holographic interface, larger and more intrusive than any she'd seen, flickered into existence above the main hub. It was broadcasting a "Love Festival Popularity Poll" from the outside world, its banners screaming: "VOTE FOR YOUR WAIFU OF THE YEAR! LIVIA: NPC QUEEN!"
Livia's face burned. The interface showed real-time rankings: a bunny girl NPC, a swordswoman, and then... her. Livia. With a percentage that was steadily climbing. Below it, a stream of real-world comments (or at least, comments from the "outside world" she was aware of in this context) flooded by: "Livia best girl!", "Her deadpan face is EVERYTHING!", "Anyone got the new Livia Ecchi Doujin?"
Her stomach twisted. "Doujin?!" She swiped at the holographic screen, wanting to delete it, but it was untouchable. Then came the ultimate horror: a player from the outside world had submitted an "Official Marriage Proposal" to her, complete with a fan-made video of him serenading her in front of her infamous basement shrine.
Alaric staggered by, reeking of festive punch, and pointed at the holographic poll. "Buffer! I bet 1000 gold you win the Waifu contest! Don't let me down!" He hiccuped, then leaned closer. "Also, the betting pool for you dating a slime is getting intense."
Livia's head spun. This was worse than any dungeon. She was a background NPC, a therapist, and now... a target for literal adoration from players she'd never even met. The absurdity was overwhelming, the invasion of her "personal" space excruciating. Her introversion screamed. Her non-existent privacy had been completely obliterated. She was a meme, a waifu, and a literal marriage target across dimensions.
She wasn't even sure which was worse anymore—being forgotten like Alaric... or being remembered like this. The spotlight felt like a cage, isolating her even more than before.
Miles Vexley sauntered over, his smirk sharper than usual, enjoying her visible distress. "Rough day, Buffer?" he drawled, gesturing to the holographic chaos. "Fame's a cruel mistress, huh? Especially when she comes with... unconventional marriage proposals." He chuckled, but Livia caught a flicker of something in his eyes, a familiar, unreadable intensity that suggested he was already calculating the implications. He leaned closer, his voice a low, teasing murmur, "You know, Buffer... maybe I should lock in my own proposal. Before a slime gets to you first."
A final notification blared, covering the entire HUD, making the world seem to freeze in an explosion of pink and red light.
The system screen blazed, projecting a series of alarming messages across her vision, impossible to ignore: "You have received a marriage proposal from: Slime | Player Unknown | Elf Mage ???"