[SYSTEM MISSION: OBJECTIVE 1]
The next day came faster than Eli expected.
"I'm… being discharged?" he blinked, wide-eyed as he stared at his 'mom.'
She nodded, already gathering her things with a bright smile. "Yes, sweetheart. The doctors said your vitals are all stable. We're just finishing up a bit of paperwork and then we can go home."
She walked to the door, then paused and turned back to him. "Oh—your clothes are over there. I brought some from your closet, but… they might not be up to your usual standards. You know I've never been the best with fashion."
She said it so apologetically that it almost made him feel guilty.
'Did Elione get mad at her a lot? Damn.' Eli managed a gentle smile. "It's fine… mom. Thanks."
Her face lit up at the simple gratitude. Like that one word was a gift she hadn't expected.
"We'll be back in a few, okay?" she said softly before stepping out to meet Eli's 'dad' in the hallway.
As soon as the door shut behind her, Eli let out a long breath and flopped back onto the bed.
"System," he called, already expecting it.
Right on cue, the floating screen blinked to life in front of him.
"Did you know I was getting discharged today?" he asked, raising a brow.
Ding.
[SYSTEM RESPONSE]
> Yes.
"How?" Eli crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. 'Just how much does this thing even know?'
For a moment, there was silence.
Then—
Ding.
[SYSTEM BODY DIAGNOSTIC – ELIONE NOA AHN]
Status: Stable
Vital Signs: Normal
Energy Levels: 78% (Above average for post-coma recovery)
Internal Damage: None
External Injuries: Healed
Physical Synchronization: 92.4%
Neural Response: Responsive
Reflex Compatibility: Acceptable
Eli's lips pressed into a thin line. "So… you can monitor my body in real time. That's scary, but useful."
Ding.
[SYSTEM NOTE]
> Vessel is cleared for basic physical activity.
> All prior trauma resolved.
System activation will proceed without complications.
Eli nodded, pushing himself up. His legs trembled slightly from disuse, but he managed to stay upright as he made his way to the nearby table where a folded set of clothes waited.
He lifted the garments.
"…These look expensive."
It hit him then—he really should've noticed sooner. The hospital room he was in wasn't your average patient suite. It looked more like a hotel penthouse: plush furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows, soft lighting. No standard linoleum floors or squeaky carts here.
Even his 'mom's' jewelry sparkled with the kind of elegance only the wealthy wore daily. His 'dad' looked like he stepped out of a luxury fashion catalog in tailored suits and polished shoes.
And Elione's online pictures?
Yeah—those weren't snapped in Korenea's public parks.
"…Should've figured," Eli muttered, peeling off the hospital gown and sliding into the luxurious fabrics. "I'm in a rich man's body. Of course his pajamas are probably worth more than my entire life."
But that wasn't what was bothering him most.
It wasn't the awkward family dynamic.
It wasn't the sudden wealth.
It wasn't even the fashion.
It was what he'd seen on the late-night news.
"…Monsters are still roaming around Korenea," Eli mumbled, pulling the shirt over his head.
His 'parents' never turned on the news when they were with him. At first, he thought they were just being considerate. Then he realized—it was intentional.
They didn't want him to see what was happening outside.
But he had.
Last night, once they'd stepped out, he watched the reruns quietly.
The explosion at the S-Class dungeon—the one that should've taken his life—had done more than collapse the gate. It ruptured something. Created 'tears'—unstable rifts between dimensions.
Unlike dungeon gates, which at least offered a buffer, the tears were raw, open wounds in space. Easy access for monsters.
Unpredictable.
Uncontrollable.
And the worst part?
They were spreading.
Hunters were being dispatched across Korenea not only for raids but for containment. The chaos wasn't over. It was just beginning.
They were still investigating what caused the tears in the first place.
And naturally, the fingers were pointing.
The Lion's Fang Guild—owners of the dungeon—and the dungeon cleaning company were both under intense scrutiny. Accusations of negligence, cover-ups, even sabotage.
But no answers.
No explanation.
"I'm the goddamn answer," Eli muttered bitterly, smoothing out the sleeves of his ridiculously expensive clothes.
The truth was settling in heavier by the second.
Lucien—he—had been trapped inside the dungeon when it imploded. No warning. No choice. Just... boom. Gone. Collapsed like a failed experiment.
And sure, he didn't cause the explosion directly, but…
"Why do I feel like it's kind of my fault?" Eli mumbled, running a hand through his dark hair with a frustrated sigh. "Technically, it's that bastard Zestiel's fault. He told me to stay behind. He needed just a few more minutes."
His jaw clenched.
"Now look where that got me. Dead. Hijacking someone else's life. And I can't even go back to my family until I finish this absurd dating sim masquerading as a divine punishment."
The guilt was short-lived.
Anger burned hotter. But even that couldn't hold. Not for long.
He had to think. Had to stay focused. Emotions could come later—after he got his life back.
Eli sat back on the hospital bed and eyed the floating system window. Its glow had dimmed to standby mode.
"So?" he asked, arms folded. "You said my first task would be today. I'm being discharged. What's the mission?"
He wasn't eager to seduce anyone—let alone two legendary S-Class Hunters—but he was curious.
If the system was so all-knowing, surely it had a plan to get them to at least tolerate him... right?
He waited.
Silence.
"…Hello?" Eli tilted his head. "You did say the first task was today."
Still nothing.
The cursor blinked. Passive. Indifferent.
"…No?" he asked again, brows furrowing. "Seriously?"
No ding. No system message. Nothing.
It stayed silent through everything: when his 'parents' returned, when the doctor wheeled him out, when they signed the release papers.
Still nothing.
Even when they slid into a sleek, glossy black luxury car that looked like it had rolled straight out of a magazine, the system remained dead quiet.
Eli stared out the tinted window, distractedly watching the blur of Soul City pass by—until his gaze sharpened.
Wait.
'These buildings...'
Massive towers gleamed like chrome monoliths. Designer boutiques with velvet ropes. Private security on every corner. Pomeranians in silk ribbons. People stepping out of Porstes and Ferrires like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Every block they passed screamed old money.
And then—
His heart skipped.
A golden sign glinted from the top of a polished stone archway:
AUREUM HEIGHTS.
Eli's jaw dropped.
'Holy fucking shit.'
Aureum Heights. The playground of the elite.
Celebrities. CEOs. High-ranking Hunters. Politicians' kids. People who didn't know what public transport was.
'They're not just rich… they're obscenely rich.'
He'd grown up middle-class at best—strict budgets, secondhand gadgets, and discount grocery runs. Just stepping foot near this district had once been a dream. A fantasy.
Now?
He was living here?
"This is…" he whispered, eyes wide, trying to process it all.
But then—
A pulse.
Not emotional.
Physical.
Like something in his chest had just clicked.
His whole body stiffened. A wave of prickling heat crawled down his arms. Goosebumps followed. A strange tightness formed in his spine, his breath catching mid-inhale.
'What the hell—'
He didn't say it aloud because suddenly, his 'mom' glanced at him through the rearview mirror.
Her expression changed instantly—eyes wide, almost panicked.
"Eli, sweetheart… are you sensing danger?"
"Danger?" he echoed, blinking—
—and caught his own reflection in the side mirror.
His eyes were glowing.
Oh.
That explained it.
Elione's ability.
His Danger Detection had activated. Something nearby was setting it off.
DING.
Finally.
[SYSTEM MISSION – ACTIVE]
> Task Name: Damsel in Distress
Objective 1: Locate Target 1 – Caelen
⚠︎ Failure to complete will result in punishment.
"WHAT?!"