Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended

CHAPTER 60: Bittersweet Catalyst

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm and inviting glow upon the town of Wonderelle. The cathedral's bell resonated through the cobblestone streets, indicating the arrival of noon. A few plumehearts, akin to pigeons, had gathered by the door of a quaint bakery, pecking at scattered bread scraps, their coos harmonizing with the distant chime.

The heart of Wonderelle buzzed with life, its streets teeming with colorful stalls, merchants of all kinds, and the aroma of various foods wafted through the air. Vendors called out to passersby, enticing them with their wares—jewelers displayed glistening trinkets, fruit sellers arranged their vibrant produce in tantalizing pyramids, and the blacksmith's rhythmic clang echoed as he crafted weapons and armor.

Laughter and cheerful chatter filled the air, and children's playful giggles echoed in the alleyways. The town was indeed a place of vibrancy, a haven of lives interwoven in harmony.

Yet, tucked away in the shadows of a back alley, a stark contrast to the lively streets, there was the growling of a hungry stomach, the sound echoing like an unanswered plea.

Reeza, draped in a tattered hooded cloak, stood in solitude, her figure blending seamlessly with the alley's obscurity. She clutched a stale loaf of bread, its hardness a testament to the passage of time and scarcity of sustenance. Her once bright and rebellious eyes now held a weariness that came from a life of hardship and want.

As she leaned against the cold stone wall, her lifeless gaze fell upon the meager bread in her hand. In the midst of this bustling town, Reeza's plight stood as a stark reminder of the harsh realities that persisted just beyond the cheerful façade.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and in that brief moment, she was transported back to a distant memory—a time when bread was warm and fresh, and her heart was unburdened by the weight of the world.

In a serene valley nestled between gentle hills, a quaint village lay bathed in sunlight. The rolling green plains danced in the cool breeze descending from the snow-capped mountain peaks. Farmers toiled diligently under the sun's unwavering gaze, finding solace in the refreshing wind that brushed across the fields.

Beneath the expansive canopy of towering trees, the laughter of children echoed as they frolicked and played with handcrafted wooden toys.

Reeza, a mere five-year-old, lay sprawled on her stomach amidst the tall grass, mesmerized by the miniature rainbow cast by the spinning waterwheel. Suddenly, she sensed a delicate weight settling atop her head.

The mastermind, just as young as Reeza, stepped back, framing her friend with her fingers. "Perfect!" she exclaimed with infectious enthusiasm. "It looks really good on you."

Reeza reached up, her eyes widening in delight as she realized the gift bestowed upon her: a tiara intricately woven from delicate flowers and blades of grass. "Oh my gosh! This is so pretty! I love it, Hatice! Thank you!"

Hatice beamed with pride, heaving a triumphant hum. "I can teach you how to make one if you'd like," she offered, her grin widening into a mischievous smirk.

Reeza's excitement was palpable as she nodded vigorously in agreement.

As they sat weaving another floral tiara amidst their laughter and shared tales, their peaceful moment was shattered by the arrival of a breathless youth. With urgency in his eyes, he relayed urgent news to Hatice: her father had collapsed while toiling in the fields.

Heart pounding with dread, Hatice dashed towards the clinic, her mind a whirlwind of fear. Upon arrival, she was met with a somber congregation of villagers, their faces drained of color. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, painting a grim picture of her father's plight.