Match after match was truly just an exhausting experience. Not to mention, it was rank. So not only were you surrounded by the constant try hard hunters, but you had the misfortune of having to deal with your sweat drenched teammates.

Entering the manor, the butler mentioned Edgar had apparently requested for you. So, despite the matches you had just gone and finished up with, you decided to make the tiring journey towards the painters room.

Each step felt like hell, aching legs and sloping arms. Yet, the moment Edgar's door opened. The smell of freshly hot cooked dinner filled the room, Edgar's head poking around the corner of the kitchen.

"Hm. Yeah, knew it." he muttered as he shook his head, beginning to bring out the plates of food, placing yours down before his own. "I was spectating your game from the dining room. But it was such a sad sight I ended up leaving midway to start making you dinner." he mumbled as he began to take a bite out of his own dish "So, how'd it go?"