Chapter 4: New Life

The ceiling looked bright; it was obvious that he had slept in, and it was already midday. Could anyone blame him after the crazy events of his first day in this city? He wasn't in the mood to leave his bed. Stretching his arms, he felt something in the sheets with him.

"Huh, did I leave something in the bed?"

He decided to lift the sheets. As he did, he was a bit startled.

"This... it's the sword that wolf monster stabbed me with. What's it doing here?"

A sudden unease gripped him. 'Did she follow me here? I suspected they could track me down, but I had nowhere else to go, and I didn't think I'd be found so quickly.'

Still caught up in this train of thought, he paused.

"No, I got it wrong. If they had found me, why only leave a sword? Did I accidentally bring it without noticing? Yeah, that must be what happened."

He picked up the sword, its long blade and entire body now black with red highlights on the edges. It was a beautiful weapon; he couldn't help but stare. It looked smaller than he remembered.

He felt a small urge to keep it but decided against the idea. He got out of bed and leaned the sword against the wall.

Entering the bathroom, he glanced at himself in the mirror and almost yelped. He was covered in dried blood from head to toe; his clothes were torn in various places, with the most noticeable tear on the left side—it looked as though it had been sliced clean through. Yet, his body was unharmed.

He trembled a bit, the memory of the sword slicing through his shoulder and chest flashing through his mind. Taking off his clothes and deciding they were beyond saving, he threw them in the garbage. But first, he needed a bath.

He turned on the shower; the water was warm as he stepped in. A few minutes later, he was all clean. Grabbing a towel, he dried himself off and returned to the mirror to brush his teeth. He stopped, taking a closer look at his reflection—his face was different. The usual blemishes and scars that had been a part of him were gone.

"My scar... it's gone. Not even a trace. How?"

The small scar he had on his forehead, which was barely visible before, had vanished completely. Was it just him, or was he a little taller and more attractive than he remembered? He had always been an average-looking guy, but he used to give himself a confidence boost by convincing himself he was quite handsome whenever he stood by the mirror. Maybe this was just one of those moments. He shrugged it off and left the bathroom.

He got dressed in his room, opting for regular blue jeans and a V-neck white shirt. Today, he resolved to unpack—no matter what had happened, even dying wasn't going to stop him

There wasn't much to unpack—just some books, games, and miscellaneous items. Thirty minutes later, he was done. It was already past noon, and now all that was left was to dispose of the evidence—his blood-soaked clothes. The blood had dried, so he figured he should be able to burn them.

Heading back to the bathroom where he had left the clothes, he grabbed them and brought them to the kitchen. But before he could start, he felt an intense hunger. He opened the fridge and grabbed an apple and some milk.

Biting into the apple, he placed the milk on the kitchen table and opened a cabinet to get a cereal pack. Squatting down, he retrieved a bowl from another cabinet. By the time he was done, the apple was already gone. Pouring the cereal and milk, he began eating, but it did nothing to stop his hunger—even after finishing the bowl and eventually the entire cereal pack.

He stood up and put on the kettle, grabbing an instant ramen pack. He waited for the water to boil before adding it and then waited some more.

He ended up eating five cups of ramen before finally feeling satisfied.

Feeling sleepy, he collapsed onto the couch and drifted off. When he woke up, it was already dark. He felt something hard pressing into his side; looking down, he realized it was the sword he had left leaning against the wall.

"Huh, is it just me or ...  didn't I leave this sword by the wall?"

"No, it is not just you. The sword must have followed you since you left it so haphazardly," said an ethereal voice from the shadows.

He quickly jumped off the couch, recognizing the familiar face of the dark-haired Carrisa.

"You! How did you find me?"

"It was not difficult, really. I have come to retrieve you. As I mentioned before, you are mine, and we belong together," she spoke with a calm, almost indifferent tone.

"Take what you need and let us be off. I cannot afford to part with my citadel for too long; I could be attacked at any time," she added, though her demeanor did not hint at any urgency.

"No, I'm not going anywhere with you. Thank you very much."

"You will," she stated simply.

"I won't."

"You will."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yes, you will," she said, turning her back to him. "Because you have nowhere else to be but by my side." Her words sounded ominous, but he didn't care.

Once he was certain she had left, he finally slumped down on the couch and breathed a sigh of relief. An hour passed, and he finally relaxed. Picking up the sword, he opened the window and tossed it out. There was no way he was keeping that cursed thing in his house, no matter how cool it looked.

Returning to the couch, he picked up a controller and started his game. Looking at the controller, he muttered, "Alright, let's grind, baby."

He played until first light before finally closing his eyes on the couch to sleep. What felt like an instant later, there was a knock on his door. Groggily, he got up to open it, finding a middle-aged man in a black suit standing outside, someone he didn't recognize.

"Hello, we have not met. I am Albert Fairman, the landlord. I am here to deliver this," the man said, handing him an envelope.

He accepted it and attempted to close the door, still groggy. However, the landlord, Albert, stopped him.

"You might want to read it, kid."

Feeling slightly annoyed, he opened the envelope and read its contents. As he did, the drowsiness was immediately knocked out of him by the shock of what he was reading.

"Eviction notice? You've got to be kidding, right? And today, no less! You can't do that; the law says you can't evict a tenant without a six-month notice," he glared at the landlord.

"Sorry, kid. If you don't like it, you can sue me. But I want you out by tomorrow, or I'll have you kicked out by the end of the day. Oh, and here's a full refund of your yearly rent. I am paying you back five times more for the inconvenience," Albert said, handing him a different envelope that felt a bit heavy.

Albert left, and as soon as he did, he picked up his phone and called home to tell his parents. His dad threatened to sue, but his mom eventually calmed him down, saying it wasn't worth the trouble. They agreed it would be better for him to stay at a hotel for a while before finding new accommodations.

After thirty minutes on the phone with his parents, he finally got some shut-eye, drifting into sleep as he cursed his misfortune.