His heart rate spiked, and the noise inside his head drained away. Worry, curiosity, even the weight of knowing he had died all slipped out of focus, as if someone had yanked the cord mid-thought. For the first time since arriving here, his mind felt empty in a way that scared him.
Right now, he stood there as a man people would call handsome, carrying a position that placed him uncomfortably high in the Human world. The contrast felt wrong. Yesterday he was dying on repeat. Today, strangers looked at him like he belonged somewhere far above them.
A beautiful waitress offering her phone number with words that left little to the imagination might have felt ordinary to someone else. For him, it landed wrong because this was a first for him. He knew he should have reacted smoothly, maybe even confidently, yet his thoughts lagged behind the moment, trying to catch up to something he had never experienced before.
Then he noticed something important.
"Wait. Do women really approach men this directly here? Where was the hesitation he expected?"
He had grown up to thirty years old, believing women kept their distance even when interested.
Seeing that idea fall apart this easily left him off-balance. It was not excitement he felt, but confusion.
For several minutes, he remained by the window, aware of the glances directed his way. The feeling reminded him of a wealthy businessman dining in an unfamiliar place, observed simply for existing where he stood.
Outside, students crossed the courtyard in small groups, couples lingered close to one another, and birds circled lazily above the gardens. Even from this angle, the windows revealed just how removed this dormitory was from ordinary student life.
When Orion finally shifted his attention back to the table, several minutes had passed. Dishes arrived one after another, placed carefully instead of being carried together on a single tray. Flowers and decorative pieces appeared between the plates, making it clear that extra effort went into his service. His table stood apart from the rest of the hall without any need for explanation.
He hesitated before tasting anything, uncertain what to expect. The first spoonful of soup with warm bread hit harder than expected, settling deep and leaving no room for doubt about the care behind it.
From there, the rest followed quickly. He drank the orange juice, sampled unfamiliar dishes, and finished everything faster than he realized. What looked excessive at first disappeared from the table in short order.
As he stood and reached for the glass water bottle, the waitress met his gaze with a knowing smile while other staff members stepped in to clear the table.
"I wish you a good day, Mr. Vale. See you at dinner."
"See you, Leile. Thank you. Everything was amazing," Orion replied.
"I'm glad my service met your expectations, Mr. Vale."
He offered a quiet farewell and moved toward the corridor, still unsure whether experiences like this came naturally to men of status or simply caught him unprepared.
The encounter left him unsettled but satisfied. Strange as it was, the experience opened his eyes in ways he had never expected.
He went up to the top floor and began examining the place he would be living in from now on.
The entire floor split cleanly into two sections for reasons that were not immediately clear. The front lobby alone occupied nearly half the size of the main living area and served multiple purposes. From there, he could reach several outer rooms without passing through the main door or stepping into the private house section.
At the center of the hallway stood a mailbox and a few other small fixtures. Nearby, an oddly placed structure occupied a wide section of the corridor. It resembled a cage large enough to hold an animal, yet its purpose escaped him.
He circled it for a while before letting out a laugh. Maybe this thing existed for receiving animals when students placed special orders. The fact that it sat right next to the mailbox only made the idea stranger.
The dormitory held many other unfamiliar installations whose functions he could not guess, but he ignored those for now. Instead, he focused on spaces that felt practical or at least interesting, half-expecting to stumble upon some kind of hidden exit in an unused room.
A large storage room stood immediately to the left of the stairs. Inside, cabinets overflowed with spare covers, sheets, towels, and bathrobes. Similar items appeared near the bathroom in the private section, but this room clearly served as a reserve stocked far beyond necessity.
Turning another corner led him to a wide sports room. Exercise equipment sat scattered across the floor, much of it covered and unused. The lighting felt poor, though daylight from the windows made the space workable during daytime hours.
As he continued exploring, the reality of having an entire penthouse floor to himself finally settled in. Thalia's words from earlier and even his sleep the previous night had failed to convey the scale of it.
Walking through the space now, he understood what true luxury meant.
Two fully equipped kitchens waited for him, each large enough to function independently. One stood within the private house section, the other positioned in the outer lobby area. The contrast between them felt unnecessary, yet impressive.
"Millionaires must live like this," he muttered, unable to hide his envy.
Despite knowing how to cook, he rarely bothered back on Earth. Standing between kitchens filled with exaggerated details, he wondered whether that habit would ever change. The thought lingered without an answer.
A few minutes later, he discovered something he had overlooked the night before.
A massive double door sealed off the private house section from the rest of the floor. Thick metal locks reinforced it from behind, along with several smaller mechanisms that offered a strong sense of security. The division felt deliberate, designed to protect rather than decorate.
By the time he finished exploring, the layout had become clear. The floor included a gym, two kitchens, a laundry room, three relaxation rooms furnished with deep armchairs, a study, a small library stocked with books and magazines, and two bedrooms. Several additional rooms remained empty but fully prepared for use in both sections of the floor.
If he rented this place out to ten students, he could probably live comfortably off the income alone.
He returned to the main living area, which connected directly to his bedroom, and stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the grounds below.
Near the wardrobe section, his attention shifted to an expensive wall-mounted phone. He examined it for a moment before dialing Samuel's number. The device looked advanced, yet the act of using it felt oddly familiar, like handling an old phone from his grandmother's house back in the nineties.
Whoever designed this place understood nostalgia. The sensation felt deliberate and strangely comforting.
After a brief ring, the line connected.
"How may I help you, Mr. Vale?" She recognized him immediately.
He stated his request without hesitation, informed her of his choice of protector, and ended the call without unnecessary conversation.
The voice on the other end sounded young, likely belonging to a secretary. That irritating butler really did have questionable taste.
With nothing left to do, he closed the balcony door and dropped onto the bed. Sleep claimed him under a minute, his body finally giving in to the exhaustion carried over from the previous day.
He remained asleep until a sharp ringing sound pulled him back to consciousness around three in the afternoon.
..
"Ding, ding, ding…"
Orion shuffled toward the magic phone with half-closed eyes and lifted the heavy receiver to his ear. A woman spoke on the other end, her voice low and steady.
"I couldn't catch that. Your voice is too low."
"Are you available?"
The tone remained soft, yet this time the words reached him clearly. There was something strange about it, almost as if her voice carried weight of its own.
I must be imagining things. I barely understand magic yet. I just want to sleep.
Orion processed the words a second too late and answered halfway through the thought. "Yes—"
The line went dead before he could say anything else.
"What the hell was that?"
He returned to the bed and lay down again, hoping sleep would come back naturally. Instead, the drowsiness that had weighed him down moments earlier faded stubbornly. Minutes passed, then more, until sleep slipped completely out of reach and his thoughts drifted aimlessly.
Around five in the afternoon, he finally used the bathroom for the first time.
Oh boy. It felt absurdly good.
The seat heating, automatic cleaning, and odor control worked in perfect harmony, all powered by magic. The experience alone tempted him to eat again just for an excuse to return.
As he considered going back to the dining hall, the memory of its overwhelming luxury made his shoulders tense. After the morning's events, stepping into that space again felt like something that required preparation.
His hair stood tangled and messy, and the idea of taking a full shower felt exhausting. Instead, he decided to grab something simple to eat inside the dorm.
He also wanted to test that magical toilet again later.
I wonder how it would feel with a cigarette.
Lost in that thought, he stepped into the kitchen and opened the smaller entrance leading to a cold storage pantry. Cool air washed over him immediately. Inside were eggs, sausages, oil, flour, and various other ingredients arranged neatly along the shelves.
"I wonder if they cool this with magic?"
"No." The voice came from directly behind his neck.
Orion turned around instinctively, heart jumping, and found a woman standing only a few centimeters away. She looked to be in her early thirties. Recognition struck him at once. He had seen her face before.
The file.
Name: Kalista Wynne
Should I use her first name or her surname? Better play it safe.
"Hello, Miss Kalista Wynne."
Kalista answered with a quiet "hello," her voice barely above a whisper, and leaned closer without hesitation. Orion caught the faint scent of her skin and felt her breath brush against his cheek.
Her eyelashes were unexpectedly striking up close. And her skin looks… smooth.
His gaze drifted downward before he stopped himself, recalling the second line from her file.
Golden brown skin. Long fiery red hair. Tattooed shoulders and abdomen. Slender, athletic build.
The numbers at the end flashed through his mind, and his eyes betrayed him for a brief second. When he looked back up, her eyes had already caught him. Heat crept up his neck despite the cold air spilling from the pantry.
"Uh… Miss Kalista Wynne."
"Just Kalista.."
The way she spoke felt unusual. Calm and low, almost emotionless, as if she measured every word before letting it leave her mouth.
Kalista stepped back slightly and focused on the eggs and sausage in his hands. Her gaze lingered there, followed by a small, unconscious swallow.
"Are you hungry, Kalista?"
She answered with a single nod.
Orion quickly turned toward the counter, forcing his attention back to the kitchen.
"You'll be my protector. That means we'll be around each other for a long time. If there's anything you don't like to eat, I'll keep it in mind."
He had no idea when he would leave this world or return to reality, but for now, he followed the role he was expected to play.
A little politeness never hurt.
He tried to act like a proper gentleman, unaware that his casual tone unsettled her far more than formality would have. Her eyes widened slightly as she processed his words.
The meaning of titles like Warlord or Lloyd meant nothing to him yet. Without that context, the difference between them never fully registered. To Orion, she was someone assigned to stand beside him.
"I eat everything.."
"That's good, Miss Kalista."
"Just Kalista.."
"…Should I call you Kalista?"
Another small nod answered him.
That was how Orion met Kalista, a Warlord, speaking to her like a neighbor or an equal while explaining the finer points of cooking sausage and eggs.
Only time would reveal how wise it was to joke with someone who could turn him to dust with a single breath.