"I did," Malakai nodded. "Someone cleared out the room for me. It was you, right?"
Laila looked slightly taken aback that he figured it out. "Why do you suspect me?" she asked.
"There's only that room and Captain Rhett's on that floor, so I just assumed—"
"There's nothing going on between us." Laila cut in quickly. Realizing how sharp that came out, she cleared her throat and added, "Ninth Vein."
Malakai simply stared at her. He didn't comment and changed the topic. "What about the Captain? I left him at some club last night to handle his business."
"He's back in his room now, Ninth Vein. Sleeping. He must've had too much to drink."
Malakai nodded, though he didn't miss the annoyance in her voice. Still, it wasn't his concern.
"The plan went well. We got enough money to start fixing the house. Can the renovations begin today?"
"Yes, Ninth Vein. Igyan's already supposed to come patch the exterior holes. When he arrives, we'll inform him that we're doing a full renovation."
"Alright," Malakai said, raising his lifeguard. "How do I unlock this?"
Laila's eyes widened slightly. How could she have forgotten something so important?
"Down that hall, Ninth Vein. Last room on the right, that's where you can get it done." She paused, uncertain if she should say more. Malakai waited.
"Riven is a bit… different. But he means well, and he's really good at his job. I just hope you'll be patient with him."
Malakai nodded slowly, then turned and headed toward where she directed.
As he left, Laila let out a deep sigh.
'Is he really 14?' She truly doubted it. He was far too perceptive for his age.
'I guess that's why he's a genius in battle.' It wasn't a comforting trait, but it was the kind that created legends.
Her gaze shifted upward, eyes flashing cold.
She held herself back and ascended the stairs, reaching the top floor. She approached the door to the left, knocking softly twice before entering.
Her expression dimmed as she looked at the man sprawled out on the bed. Rhett.
He was snoring loudly. His head dangled at the edge of the bed, facing the floor, right above a small pool of vomit.
Laila didn't say anything. She went to the bathroom, came back with a mop and bucket, and began to clean. When she was done, she gently lifted Rhett and laid him more comfortably on the bed.
For a moment, she stood there, staring at him with a quiet, sad expression.
"Why are you doing this to yourself, Rhett?" Her arms clenched. Tears welled up before she could stop them. "It's unfair," she whispered.
Laila shook her head and wiped her face. She cleaned the vomit that had dried at the corner of his mouth, then stood and left the room.
The moment the door clicked shut, Rhett's eyes flickered open. He stared blankly at the ceiling, the same sadness etched across his face. After a long second, he exhaled and whispered,
But there was no one left to hear it.
Malakai made his way through the same door Grunde had come out of the night before.
Thankfully, the big man was nowhere to be seen. Malakai didn't have the energy to survive another hug ambush, Grunde seemed like the kind of person who didn't take no for an answer.
'Last door on the right.'
He reached the door and knocked. No response. He knocked again. Still no answer.
He turned the knob and was relieved to find it unlocked. But the moment he stepped in, his nose scrunched instinctively.
The room was filthy. Half eaten meals with mold growing on them sat in random places.
Wrappers, bottles, and heaps of dirty clothes were scattered everywhere. The windows were shut, and no sunlight made it through, only the flickering light from multiple screens gave the room any glow.
The stench was thick and moldy, sharp enough to make one's eyes water.
Malakai almost turned around. His body screamed to recoil and leave the space entirely, but then he remembered Laila's words.
He stepped out for a second, took a deep breath of clean air, then re-entered the room.
His gaze landed on a boy hunched in front of the glowing monitors, surrounded by the glow of screens.
Fingers blurred across a mechanical keyboard as he played a game with frightening speed and focus.
From the rhythm, timing, and confidence in his hand movements, Malakai could already tell, he was good. Very good.
But it wasn't information he had any use for.
"Good morning," Malakai said, but got no response. He released a subtle wave of killing intent, and the boy's blurred arms froze instantly, game paused.
The boy spun sharply around, eyes locking onto a crimson haired, crimson eyed stranger looking down at him with clear disgust.
"W-who are yo—" His words froze in his throat, eyes widening. He shot to his feet, only to regret it immediately as a wave of nausea slammed into his head.
"N-Ninth Vein?" the boy finally asked, steadying himself.
"Are you Riven?" Malakai asked.
"In the flesh," Riven nodded, grinning. "Whoa. You're even more impressive in real life. Has anyone ever told you you'd make a great game character?"
Malakai didn't respond. His gaze scanned the boy up and down.
'He's the last of the squad,' he realized.
Riven was already short, but his hunched posture made him look even smaller. Deep panda like circles hung beneath his eyes, and his messy ash colored hair was greasy and wild.
His whole aura radiated gloom, like someone who had quietly given up on life.
Needless to say, Malakai's first impression of him wasn't great. But he knew how to mind his business well.
"I'm here to unlock my lifeguard," Malakai said succinctly after a few seconds.
"Ah, that." Riven nodded slowly. "We'll get to that later. First, I believe we really need to talk about this character thing. I'm creating a game, and I want to make you its main character. If I could just get the chance to study you—"
Riven waited, expecting some sort of excuse. But nothing came. He just didn't want to do it.