Doomsday Wonderland C.1409: Mr. Grants Love

Stepping back to observe from a secluded corner, Mr. Grant noticed details about Jessica that had previously eluded him.

She always maintained close proximity to Leah, sometimes linking arms or holding hands; when Leah sat with her back to her, Jessica would gently touch the back of the chair, her gaze fixed intently on Leah's flowing black hair. Recalling the afternoon tea he had hosted, Mr. Grant remembered finding a paper cup marked with Leah's lipstick absent from the trash. Clearly, it held significance for Jessica.

Leah's demeanor towards Jessica was a stark contrast, veering on contemptuous arrogance. It seemed she believed herself superior, not just to Jessica but to everyone. Her hidden disdain and envy towards her roommate were palpable to Mr. Grant, yet Leah continued to mask these feelings with a veneer of friendship—a blatant hypocrisy.

Regardless, it seemed Mr. Grant couldn't be with Jessica. Since this wasn't the objective of the game, he had little to lose, though he did feel a twinge of sympathy for his character's deep infatuation.

His crush on Jessica tied directly to his game objectives; likewise, Jessica seemed obsessed with Leah, suggesting her goals were connected to Leah. While he didn't know the specifics, he understood enough to guide his next moves.

While preparing for their next conversation, Mr. Grant packed freshly baked pastries into a box. Like others in the building cautious about venturing out with food, he silently hoped to avoid Elizabeth.

Living on the same floor as Elizabeth meant extra caution was necessary. His movements were so quiet that as he neared the stairs, two people whispering in the shadows below didn't notice him.

Feeling slightly awkward, Mr. Grant paused. He was indifferent to other neighbors' dilemmas; his primary concern was aiding Jessica. He resigned himself to wait until their whispered exchange concluded.

"This amount is only good for two more uses," a woman whispered, "There won't be any more after that."

Another woman hummed in agreement.

"Make sure you complete your objective within those uses," the first woman instructed. "After that, we're even. You haven't told anyone about me, have you?"

"No," the second woman replied, her voice muffled. Before Mr. Grant could identify her, the conversation ended with, "Let's leave it at that," and the women moved away from the stairwell.

If they looked up or came up the stairs, they might realize Mr. Grant had overheard them. Preferring to avoid complications unrelated to Jessica, he retreated to his apartment and waited.

Feeling safer, Mr. Grant later stepped out and knocked on Jessica's door, still curious about the women's conversation. However, the moment Jessica opened the door, those concerns vanished.

"I have something to discuss with you," he said, offering her the box of pastries. "Can we talk, just the two of us?"

From the living room, Leah's laugh cut through the air, her tone sharp.

Jessica, holding the box, looked back at her with a mixture of shyness and conflict, holding the box uncertainly. Her female intuition probably made her aware of Mr. Grant's feelings, but she had chosen to remain silent. She must have misunderstood, thinking Mr. Grant was about to address the unspoken feelings between them.

"It's... about her too," Mr. Grant whispered, catching a glimpse of coarse hairs around Jessica's ears and eyes as he leaned in.

Jessica's eyes widened in surprise. "Okay, let's talk in my room," she replied, leading the way.

She was such a gentle person; before leaving, she said to Leah, "Mr. Grant brought some snacks. Would you like a plate to eat while watching TV?"

Without turning her head, Leah waved dismissively, as if worried about the suggestion being associated with her. "Nope."

What an annoying girl!

Mr. Grant followed Jessica into her room, still irked. After closing the door, Jessica sat on the bed and gestured for him to sit in a chair. "What's with Leah?" she asked.

Such deep emotions. Mr. Grant wondered if they could reach the desired outcome. He shook his head, ready to address the issue directly—but, of course, careful not to breach the game's rules by revealing his objective.

"It's not about her; it's about you," Mr. Grant said softly. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

Jessica's expression tightened, as if pricked by a needle. She straightened up, alert. "How do you... Be careful with your words."

"Don't worry, I won't say anything to anyone if you don't want me to," Mr. Grant hurriedly reassured, nearly rising from his chair in his eagerness to clear the misunderstanding. "You must know some of my feelings for you. For you, I'm willing to do anything to make you happy."

It was a cliché line that could have come straight out of a trashy soap opera, and he could never have said it without being in character.

Jessica slowly blinked and then murmured, "Oh?"

She seemed to understand.

Bound by the game's rules, his communication of his game objective to her had to be disguised as a confession. Only a fool would miss it.

"I understand, and I'm truly touched. Thank you," Jessica replied, her voice as gentle as ever. She sighed. "However, I'm afraid you can't help me. Leah isn't... She's not interested in women, and naturally, she's not interested in me. Of course, I want to confess and pursue her, but I'm more afraid of losing her. I'd rather things stay as they are now than risk losing her."

'I see,' Mr. Grant thought, sitting back in his chair, a smile inadvertently forming on his face.

Jessica glanced at him, a faint smile on her lips as well. "You don't judge me and you're willing to help. I'll always cherish this kindness."

As Mr. Grant left, he gently touched Jessica's shoulder and cast a glance at Leah in the living room, oblivious to their conversation.

"Just leave every thing to me."