Shin'ya stood frozen in the doorway, his hand still tightly gripping the brass key, his body braced for an ambush. His mind had already mapped out a twenty-step tactical retreat in case his tavern suite had been turned into a battlefield by a rival assassin syndicate.
Instead, a gentle, fragrant wave of lavender-scented steam drifted past his face.
In the center of the parlor stood Seraphina. Her usual guild uniform jacket was draped over a chair, her sleeves were rolled up past her elbows, and she was currently holding a feather duster in one hand and a polished wooden tray in the other. The entire suite was absolutely immaculate—the floorboards gleamed, the curtains were perfectly drawn to let in a soft afternoon glow, and the large, plush bed in the corner had been freshly made with crisp, geometric precision.
Sera blinked, turning around at the sound of the door. When her eyes landed on Shin'ya—covered in a thin layer of grey catacomb dust and looking entirely drained of energy—her face instantly lit up.
"Ah! Shin! You're back!" she cheered, setting the tray down and giving him a massive, radiant double thumbs-up. "Forty minutes past the raid's conclusion, just as I calculated! Welcome home!"
Shin'ya stared at her for three long, silent seconds. His deadpan mask remained flawlessly intact, but internally, his anime-nerd brain let out a sigh of relief so loud it could have shattered glass.
THANK GOD! his inner voice screamed, tears of pure joy streaming down his mental face. She isn't a secret double-agent! She isn't a legendary assassin from the Shadow Brotherhood! She didn't abandon me to sell my secrets to the Imperial Crown! She literally just left the ruins early so she could come back here, clean my room, and make sure I didn't have to sleep in a dusty bed! My gurl is an absolute saint! A logistical mastermind!
"You... left the ruins early just to clean?" Shin'ya asked aloud, his voice dropping into its usual low, unbothered cadence.
"Of course!" Sera said proudly, putting her hands on her hips. "The Guild Master told me how messy and chaotic the lower catacombs get. I knew you'd be exhausted, so I ran back here immediately. I've already prepared a hot bath for you in the adjoining room, and I requested the kitchen below to prepare a full course of premium glazed meat skewers and honeyed buns the moment you arrived!"
Shin'ya felt a genuine, rare warmth bloom in his chest. In his past life as a hardcore gamer, the closest thing he had to an after-raid reward was a lukewarm energy drink and a screen saying [Quest-Complete]. Having a dedicated assistant treat his survival like a national holiday was a level of luxury he still couldn't entirely process.
"Sera," Shin'ya said, completely serious as he walked into the room. "I am doubling your weekly salary starting today."
"Ehh?! Sir Arata, please, I told you I'm just doing my job!" she laughed, waving her hands in panic.
"No protests. I just walked out of the guild with one hundred thousand gold coins. If I don't spend it on making sure my life remains comfortable, the fantasy tax man is going to steal it anyway," he grumbled, remembering the painful 2% administrative fee.
Without wasting another moment, Shin'ya retreated into the washroom. Stepping into the large, steaming stone tub was nothing short of a spiritual experience. As the hot water soaked into his aching, stamina-fried muscles, the lingering psychological weight of the Sound-Eater Miasma and the terrifying, psychic GONG of the stalker's bell finally melted away. He let his head rest against the smooth stone lip of the tub, closing his eyes.
For the first time in forty-eight hours, he didn't have to hold his breath. He didn't have to muffle his heartbeat. He could just... breathe.
By the time he emerged from the washroom, dressed in a clean, oversized black tunic, the parlor table had been completely transformed. True to her word, Sera had laid out a feast that smelled absolutely heavenly. Golden-brown skewers dripping with savory glaze, steaming buns glistening with honey, and a tall, chilled glass of sweetened berry juice.
Shin'ya sat down and immediately went to town. He ate with the quiet, intense ferocity of a wild animal, savoring every single bite. Sera sat across from him, resting her chin on her hands, a satisfied, maternal smile on her face as she watched the "Overpowered Shadow Prodigy" eat like a regular fourteen-year-old kid.
"So," Sera murmured softly, the ambient clinking of silverware filling the peaceful room. "The Grave-Weaver Titan... is it truly settled?"
Shin'ya swallowed a piece of perfectly grilled meat, his deadpan eyes shifting to her. "Yeah. It's asleep. The city above won't be sinking anytime soon."
Sera let out a soft, relieved breath. "I knew you could do it. There was never a doubt in my mind."
Shin'ya paused, his fork hovering in the air. He looked at the spotless room, the warm food, and the girl who had spent the last two days meticulously timing his forced naps to ensure he stayed alive.
Yeah, Shin'ya thought, a faint, genuine smirk gracing his lips before he took another bite. With a setup like this, maybe being stuck in a fantasy world isn't so bad after all.