Zilon ran as fast as he could, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it. He leaned against the door, panting heavily, his heart still racing from the adrenaline of the day.
*Not like this lock would stop Rivor if he really wanted to catch me,* Zilon thought, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. *But at least I had the element of surprise.*
"Ahem..."
The sound of someone clearing their throat made Zilon's eyes snap open.
Sitting gracefully in a chair, sipping a cup of tea, was Lyla. She didn't look at him, her focus entirely on the steaming cup in her hands.
"So, where did you go?" Lyla asked, her voice calm and sweet, like honey.
"I... uh... went out to get some fresh air," Zilon stammered, his nerves getting the better of him.
"Is that so?" Lyla finally looked up, her piercing gaze locking onto his. "Is that how you do it in your world? You just go out without telling anyone?"
Zilon's eyes widened. *She knows?*
"So... then..." Zilon trailed off, his head dropping as he struggled to find the right words.
Lyla's expression remained indifferent as she stared at him. Before he could say anything, she spoke again.
"Yes, I know. But even if you ask me questions, I won't answer them. You're too weak to know the truth. I suggest you become stronger... to find your answers yourself."
*Stronger. That's what I need to do,* Zilon thought, his resolve hardening.
When he saw what Rivor could do and how powerful the hooded men were, he knew he couldn't afford to stay weak. This time, he was lucky. But he wasn't sure if luck would be on his side again.
*I just need to get stronger. I will get stronger.*
He raised his head, determination burning in his eyes. Lyla stood up, preparing to head to her room.
"It's already late. Go to your room and rest. I believe today was very eventful," she said, turning to leave.
"Wait a moment..."
Lyla paused, glancing back at him.
"I know you despise me. I could tell, even though you were hiding it. So, I just want to know one thing," Zilon said, his voice steady.
"Are you an enemy?"
The room fell silent, the weight of the question hanging in the air. After a few moments, Lyla spoke.
"No, I am not your enemy. But neither am I your supporter," she said, her tone cold and final.
"I see. Well, no matter what it is, I will show you..." Zilon stopped himself, leaving the rest of his thoughts unspoken.
Lyla stared at him for a moment longer before turning away.
"We will see then..."
Of course, she wasn't a fool. There was a hidden meaning behind his words, but she didn't care. In her mind, there was no way to like something you already hated.
But, as always, fate had its own way of saying nothing was impossible.
---
Zilon walked to the bathroom, his mind still racing. If he had to guess, it had been about five minutes since Lyla left. He had been standing there, lost in thought, until now.
He washed his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His dark eyes seemed to hold countless memories, flooding his mind with thoughts of his past life.
Blinking, he regained his composure and chuckled softly.
"We will see, indeed."
Zilon walked out of the bathroom and headed to his room. The house was lit by small, candle-like objects—wooden sticks with flames that didn't burn the wood. It was a strange yet fascinating sight.
He opened the wooden door to his room and stepped inside, taking a moment to look around. Shaking his head, he undressed, leaving only his shirt, and climbed into bed.
*I have so many questions, and the only way to get answers is to do what I do best—adapt and survive,* Zilon thought, already planning how he would start the next day.
"The problem is, I have no way of telling time here. Is time shorter or longer on this planet?" Zilon sat up, holding his chin as he contemplated.
"They seem to have the same sense of direction as Earth—north, east, south, and west. And gravity feels the same, too. I don't feel any different from how I did on Earth," he mumbled to himself.
*That's about all I could gather from today's walk around,* Zilon thought, sighing slightly.
"Well..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the remaining gold coins.
"I have about 50 gold coins left. Based on what Rivor told me, that's about 5,000 bronze coins or 500 silver coins," Zilon said, counting the coins on his bedsheet.
He got up and arranged the coins on the empty bookshelf. If anyone saw what he was doing, they'd probably think he was crazy. But to Zilon, it was the most convenient place to keep them.
Of course, he had no idea that an average worker in this world wouldn't earn even 100 silver coins in a year—let alone a single gold coin.
Zilon looked at the coins one last time before turning back to his bed. He lay down, his body finally relaxing after the day's events.
He remembered the fight earlier—how Victor had punched him in the face. Checking his reflection earlier, he was surprised to find no bruise.
*Maybe it's the potion I drank,* Zilon thought, recalling the fight with Rivor and the six hooded men.
He touched his neck, where the cut from the assassin's blade had been. It was completely healed.
Zilon sighed, the weight of the day pressing down on him.
When the hooded man had appeared in front of him, all he could think about was survival. Remembering that he was in a world of magic, he did the only thing he could think of—he activated the skill he had seen in his status panel.
*I didn't expect it to work, though,* Zilon thought, his chest heavy with the memory of how close he had come to dying—again.
"Still, it's good that it actually activated..." Zilon murmured, his exhaustion finally catching up to him.
"I will... be stronger... for my sake..."
With those words, Zilon closed his eyes and drifted into a deep sleep.