I woke to an unfamiliar softness beneath , surrounded by warmth and pleasure. It was entirely different from the cold, thin mattress I had grown used to over ti. For a brief mont, while I was both stunned and confused, I thought I had died. Perhaps that fall down the stairs was the last straw of my luck. But, I doubted that death was ant to feel this cozy.
Opening one eye, I discovered I was gazing at a dark ceiling, sleek and untouched by the water stains I had anticipated. I moved a bit, the softness of the bed enveloping —a stark difference from the concrete-and-springs agony apparatus in my forr apartnt. As I turned my head, I noticed boxes organized neatly throughout the room, many marked with my na in large black lettering. My possessions. My recently arranged room.
As I sat up, a mild throb was felt at the back of my head, though it was tolerable. Looking to my right, I noticed an alarm clock sitting on a stylish nightstand, its red numbers glaring at : 6:30 AM.
Wiping away the tiredness from my eyes, I kicked my legs over the edge of the bed and got up. The room was almost as large as my whole previous apartnt—no exaggeration. A window dressed with heavy blackout curtains permitted just the slightest beams of early morning light to seep through, creating elongated shadows on the floor. Even with the strangeness, it felt... nice.
Curiosity tugged at , so I made my way to the door. The handle was cool under my fingers as I turned it gently, stepping into the hallway.
A sudden, blinding light assaulted my vision, forcing to squint until my eyes adjusted.
And when they did—
Wow.
The living room was like sothing out of a catalog. A large, comfortable-looking couch faced a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, flanked by minimalist shelves lined with books and small decorative items. The kitchen was open-concept, spacious enough to actually walk through without having to turn sideways. Gleaming countertops reflected the morning light streaming through decently large windows that offered a view of the city skyline, golden hues of dawn painting the world outside.
If A-Rank apartnts were like penthouses and C-Rank ones were average, this B-Rank apartnt was the perfect in-between—luxurious without being overwhelming.
But what caught my attention next wasn't the view.
It was the sll.
The delicious, enticing scent of food wafted from the kitchen. There, positioned in front of the stove, was Sienna—her hair tied in a ssy bun, sleeves pushed up, softly humming while she flipped an item in a pan with remarkable skill.
At 6:30 AM.
She must've had so kind of superpower herself.
Sensing my presence, she turned her head slightly, grinning when she saw . "Oh, you're up. Perfect timing."
I blinked, still processing the fact that soone could be this functional at this hour. Before I could respond, she pointed her spatula at . "Bathroom's next to your room. Go freshen up before breakfast."
My bathroom? That was enough to jolt fully awake.
I didn't need to be told twice.
I darted back toward my room, heart racing—not from excitent over the food, but the fact that I had my own bathroom. The door was easy to spot, just a few steps from my bed. I opened it and nearly gasped.
Inside was a spotless, contemporary bathroom featuring smooth tiles, a brightly lit mirror, a sink that appeared newer than , and—most importantly—a shower along with a standalone bathtub.
I entered, closed the door, and simply gazed at everything for a mont. I undressed and entered the shower.
Without a doubt, it was the finest shower I have ever experienced.
The warm water struck like a realization, cleansing away not only the dirt and perspiration but also years of unease, tension, and... well, my F-Rank life. I remained in that spot longer than I likely ought to have, allowing the steam to envelop the area as if attempting to obliterate the past completely.
When I finally ca out, my skin felt warm, my hair was wet, and my spirit felt lighter. I put on clean clothes, dried my hair with a towel, and exited the bathroom feeling completely transford.
Sienna was placing dishes on the dining table as I walked back into the living room. She looked up, and—for the shortest mont—I noticed a subtle flush rise to her cheeks before she swiftly turned away, feigning to arrange the plates in an unnecessary manner.
I raised an eyebrow but chose not to say anything.
"Sit," she said, regaining her usual confidence. "Breakfast is ready."
The table was filled with food: scrambled eggs, toast, crispy bacon, and even so fresh fruit alongside. I took a seat, bewildered.
"When did you even have ti to make all this?" I asked, picking up a fork.
She shrugged, sliding into the seat across from . "I'm a morning person."
Morning person felt like an understatent. We had at least two hours before we even needed to think about heading to the site.
I took a bite of the eggs—and imdiately groaned. "This is amazing."
She grinned, clearly pleased. "Duh! I cooked it."
We ate in comfortable silence for a bit before my curiosity took over. "So, um... what really took place after I, you know—" I gestured vaguely with my hand, imitating a fall.
She chuckled. "Oh, you an after you heroically face-planted into the floor? You got knocked out cold. I had to drag you—and the boxes—up the stairs."
I froze mid-bite. "Wait. You dragged ? All the way up?"
She nodded, acting like it was no big deal.
I stared at her. I wasn't exactly lightweight, not with the muscle I'd built both naturally and through the job system's physical boosts. Not to ntion the boxes.
She flexed her arms with a playful grin. "Don't underestimate these bad boys."
I couldn't help but laugh.
After we finished, I insisted on doing the dishes to make up for "the problem I caused," as I put it. She didn't argue.
As I stood at the sink, scrubbing plates under warm water, my thoughts drifted.
The Firefighter job.
I needed to level it up, but how could I manage that while maintaining my Construction Worker duties? The balance was going to be tricky. And beyond that, I needed more jobs, more skills, if I wanted to stand a chance against the so-called "World President."
But to pull that off, I'd need an ally. Soone who could cover for , vouch for my presence at work even when I wasn't there. Soone I trusted.
There was only one person who fit that description.
Sienna.
But involving her ant exposing her to risks she didn't sign up for. Dangerous ones. Hiding my abilities from evaluators, living in the shadows of this system, it was frankly exhausting and stressful. Could I really drag her into that world?
As I rinsed the last plate, my reflection stared back at from the window—damp hair, tired eyes, but sharper sohow. Stronger.
The question wasn't just if I should tell her.
It was how much.
I dried my hands, still lost in thought, contemplating a decision that could change everything.
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