Shangri-La Frontier: Phantom Player:

Peering from atop a high cliff on the outskirts of town, Kuro watched all the players below. They lurked in different alleys and paths, moving like an organised pack of wolves hunting their prey. Kuro felt like a candle in a pitch-black room—no matter where he went, he would almost certainly be spotted. The tension in the air was thick, the hunt almost tangible.
He sighed, knowing that escape was no longer an option. Opening his system menu, he took a glance at his newly acquired skills. Each one was a potential lifeline, a last-resort tool to help him survive, but would they be enough to outwit the growing number of hunters? Only time would tell.
"I just have to get to the inn so I can log out..." Kuro muttered, pacing back and forth along the cliff, his fingers tapping restlessly on his chin. "Maybe I could— No, that wouldn't work..." His eyes shifted back to his skill list, scanning through each ability, seeking a solution. Then his gaze landed on one specific skill: "Invisible Attack." The thought shot through him like a jolt of electricity through a wire, sparking a glimmer of hope.
Invisible Attack — Makes the user invisible for 30 seconds or until they launch an attack.  
"Invisible Attack!" Kuro activated the skill, and in an instant, a physical veil of darkness enveloped his form. He became synonymous with the night, his avatar fading completely from the face of the cliff, blending seamlessly with the shadows around him. The world seemed to grow darker as he vanished from view, but with it came a sense of urgency. His movements, now swift and silent, were no longer bound by the perception of the hunters—at least, not yet.
He knew he was on a strict time limit. The invisibility wouldn't last long, and the hunters would soon realise something was amiss. Without wasting a second, Kuro leapt off the cliff, his body shooting through the air with astonishing speed. He dashed towards the Inn, each step a calculated move to get as far as possible before his cover was blown.
Kuro flopped onto the bed within the inn, his shoulders slumped and his head flung back in exhaustion. "Phew...! That was terrifying!" he exhaled, releasing a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. The adrenaline still coursed through him, but the immediate danger was behind him. For a moment, he allowed himself to relax, sinking into the bed's softness.
But then, his system window opened again. His eyes darted to the time displayed, and a wave of panic washed over him. "I still have to get shopping!" he muttered in a frantic voice. Without a second thought, Kuro immediately logged out of the game, his mind already racing with the items he needed to purchase before the shops shut.
Back in his own body, he yanked the headset off as if it were on fire, tossing it aside carelessly. He sprang out of bed, fumbling for his keys and wallet. His fingers were clumsy as he struggled to shove his feet into shoes, the laces tangling in his haste. Without a second thought, he bolted for the door, barely pausing to grab his coat before racing down the street toward the shops.
Arriving at the shop breathlessly, he grabbed a basket and began weaving through the crowded aisles, scanning the nearly bare shelves for his items. The shop buzzed with last-minute shoppers, the air thick with hurried chatter and the clink of coins. Many of the shelves had already been stripped clean, a reminder of how close the shops were to closing time. Luckily, he was able to gather enough supplies to last him for the week. With a sigh of relief, he made his way towards the self-checkout area, the weight of his basket a tangible reminder of the time he'd almost lost.
The line was long, but he had made it. Behind him, he spotted a shop owner locking off the self-checkout area, informing the remaining customers that the shop was closing and they couldn't let anyone else in. By some stroke of fortune, he had made it with seconds to spare. He scanned his items, letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.
Exiting the shop with a heavy bag in hand, Kurozawa decided to take the long way home through the park. It would serve as a veil of serenity, a quiet contrast to the chaos of the day that had passed. The cool, crisp air of the park filled his lungs as he walked beneath the soft orange glow of the setting sun, the distant hum of the city fading into the rustling of leaves. He followed the path lined with soft pink trees, their delicate blossoms drifting to the ground like fleeting embers in the fading light.
On his way home, he spotted a lady with a slender yet curvy physique, her long, flowing dark blue hair cascading gracefully to her lower back. Her face was framed by the silky strands, highlighting sharp, delicate features that carried an almost ethereal charm. Almond-shaped red eyes glimmered faintly under the setting sun's warm hues, hinting at a mix of confidence and subtle mischief. Her smooth, fair skin seemed to glow softly, amplifying the air of elegance she naturally exuded. She sat on a bench, poised and serene, her attention fixed on her phone as her fingers lightly scrolled across the screen, oblivious to the world around her.
She seemed familiar, though I couldn't quite place where I had seen her before. A brief glance at her screen revealed the unmistakable layout of the Shangri-La Frontier fandom site. My eyes widened slightly in recognition, and before I realised it, I had taken a step toward her, drawn by curiosity.
The faint sound of my movement caught her attention, and she shifted her gaze from her phone to meet mine. Her crimson eyes locked onto me, curious and sharp, as though silently questioning my approach. For a moment, I hesitated, unsure of what to say. 
"You must be a fan. No need to be nervous," she said, her voice smooth and reassuring as a sweet smile spread across her lips. Her crimson eyes softened, the initial sharpness giving way to warmth. It was as though she could sense my hesitation, effortlessly easing the tension with her calm demeanour. 
"A fan?" he echoed aloud, the word rolling off his tongue in confusion. Then, like a truck slamming into him, realisation struck. His memories flooded back in an instant—this woman wasn't just some random stranger. She was Towa Amane, a name synonymous with fame and beauty. Her face had graced magazines and advertisements all across Japan.
And here he was, standing before her, having casually walked up as if she were just anyone.