"Haah"
The airship's hum faded into the background as I activated the pleasure palace, the bracelet on my wrist pulsing with a soft glow.
The cramped utility closet—Jian Wei's petty "gift"—shimmered and expanded seamlessly, reality bending like silk as the dimensional space unfolded.
Mei Ling and Lin Yue stumbled slightly from the shift, their eyes widening at the familiar opulent chamber materializing around us: velvet walls, flickering candles, and that massive king-size bed draped in red sheets, pristine as if no one had ever touched it.
We stepped fully inside, the door sealing behind us with a quiet click, shutting out the sect ship's stale air and the disciples' lingering resentment.
Mei clutched my arm for balance, her pencil skirt still riding high from the shove past the goons, while Lin scanned the room like it might sprout traps.
The palace's ambient qi washed over us, soothing the adrenaline crash from the confrontation.
