White marble countertops. Spotless white walls. White leather furniture. Perfectly white rugs. White curtains, white plates, white cups, even the lamp in the corner was white.

“Dang,” Rowan muttered, turning slowly. How long would I have to save up to have a place like this?

“The guest room is over there,” Kaidu pointed across the room, at a closed door (white). “Use it as you please.”

“As we please?” Ikara waggled her eyebrows.

Kaidu ignored her and stalked into his room.

“Well, he’s no fun. Also, you’re not my type, so no thanks.”

Rowan frowned at her. “I didn’t ask, and uh, same?”

Ikara pushed open the door. One bed awaited them, with an attached bathroom, shower and all. “I call bed. You can have first bath.”

In no mood to fight, Rowan grunted and wobbled into the bathroom.

Halfway there, Ikara caught his arm. “Cold water, okay? I don’t want to have to see you naked, and you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“Thanks, boss,” Rowan muttered. He shoved away and wandered on.

Closing the door, he dropped his tools on the floor, yanked off his shirt and tossed it into a corner. Red splattered across pure white tile. Brown dirt smudged across the wall where the bag leaned against it. Rowan pressed his lips together, slightly apologetic, then sighed. I’m going to stain things no matter what. There’s no way I can keep his room this clean. I don’t know how he does it.

He glanced at the plant in his hand and sighed again. What am I supposed to do with this? I have to put it somewhere.

Manifest unlocked! A prompt popped up in the corner of his vision.

Oh, right. That unlocked at level ten, didn’t it? Wonder what it is. Any tool would be fantastic. Having a weapon at hand… He held out his hand. “Manifest!”

A box as tall as he was and about as wide thumped to the ground. Dirt spilled out from its edges, the box brimming with fresh, dark earth.

Garden Box manifested!

Rowan looked at it, exhausted. He closed his eyes and rubbed them. Okay. Okay, it’s not useless. It’s very useful. Just… not for combat.

He turned to the plant in his hand, then sighed again. Might as well.

He knelt and dug a small hole in the center, then pressed the plant into it. Heaping dirt over the now-bushy sprout, he lifted his hands and pointed his palms at the base of the drooping leaves. “Fertilize! Watering Can! Plant affinity!”

The plant glowed a pale green, the happiest he’d seen it since it sucked his blood. Rowan smiled, just a little. Well, guess I did some Gardening. Saved a plant’s life. It didn’t feel so bad, after all.

+1 Exp! popped up in the corner of his vision.

Great. Thank you, System. Not like it’ll be applied, anyways. Not until… whatever it is happens. The condition is triggered. He waved his hand again. The box vanished, taking his plant with it.

Rowan finished undressing. As he stepped into the shower, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and froze. Dark red, bloody stains colored his stomach, and an angry red-and-pink blotch just under his solar plexus burned against his skin. He raised a hand to it and felt a depression there, a permanent dent in his skin.

I could have died.

But I didn’t. I beat the first floor. I did it.

He made eye contact with himself, brown eyes reflected back at him. In the moment before steam blurred his face, a triumphant smile crawled across his lips.

Hot water poured from the showerhead, ready for him to step in, the room already thick with humidity and steam. He turned away from the mirror and climbed in. Hot water rushed down his back, easing the knots and aches in his muscles. Red swirled down the drain, thick at first, then fading to a palish yellow, then nothing. The black stains on his feet refused to vanish, even under the wrath of soap, and his head thumped when he bent to scrub them, so he left them.

A few moments later, the light-headed feeling followed him upright. He stepped forward and staggered, black flickering against his vision. Blindly, he put out an arm and barely caught himself before he crashed to the floor.

"What'd I say about cold water?" Ikara shouted from the next room.

"Shut up," Rowan grumbled back. A hand on his forehead to keep his pounding brain in place, he turned off the shower. For a few moments, he leaned against the cool, damp shower tiles, waiting for his head to feel a little heavier.

At last, he stepped out of the shower. Casually drying himself with a white towel, he glanced at the floor and stopped dead. A pile of filthy, bloodstained, dirty clothes awaited him, splattered in mysterious fluids of all descriptions, ichor, mud, anything and everything. Not a single corner remained its original color. No way am I putting that back on. But… what else do I have to wear?

“Ikara,” he shouted.

“Yeah?”

“Ask Kaidu if he has some extra clothes I could borrow.”

From the other room, a faint grumble that sounded a lot like “penniless leeches” sounded out, and then something soft thumped against the door.

Rowan poked his head out. A set of crumpled dark clothes laid on the floor near the bathroom. “Thanks, Kaidu!”

“Welcome.”

He’d barely pulled the shorts on when Ikara poked her head around the door. “You decent?”

“Whoa, hey!” Startled, Rowan grabbed the clothes to his chest.

“Cool. Get out. I haven’t showered in weeks.”

“Fine, fine.”

Alone in the room, Rowan flopped on the bed. He closed his eyes and sighed. I’m exhausted.

A savory scent tickled his nose. Hauling himself upright, Rowan climbed to his feet and wandered out into the common room. Wet hair draped over his shoulders, wearing only a dark t-shirt and sweatpants, Kaidu sat at the counter, leaned his head on his hand, and watched a bowl of soup spin in the microwave.

“Can I have some?” Rowan asked, slumping beside him.

“Make your own,” Kaidu muttered.

Sighing dramatically, Rowan pulled himself back to his feet. I’m not really in the mood for soup. Wonder what else he has. He peered in the refrigerator and found a crate of eggs, not yet expired. “How about eggs? Could make some for you, too.”

Kaidu nodded vaguely.

He flipped open the package. Twelve eggs awaited him, the crate untouched. He found the frypan over the range, label still stuck to its front. Rowan frowned at it as he peeled it off and stuck the fresh pan under the sink for a quick wash. “New pan?”

Kaidu shook his head, eyes half-shut.

The soup in the microwave boiled over. He jumped to the appliance and hit stop, then caught sight of the timer. His eyes went wide. Six minutes remaining? How long did he put it in for?

Rowan paused. He squinted at Kaidu. “Do… you know how to cook?”

Kaidu sat upright and looked down his nose at Rowan. “That’s what support classes are for.”

“Right… got it,” Rowan said slowly. “And you are a support class. Your excuse?”

Kaidu scoffed and turned away.

“Right. Mhm. Well, I’m no Michelin Star chef, but I can fry up a mean egg, lowly support class that I am.”

“It’s good that you know your place,” Kaidu replied haughtily.

Rowan glared at him. Kaidu stared back.

A chuckle escaped Rowan’s throat. Kaidu cracked a smile, and then they both started to laugh, raucous and loud. Rowan put a hand on the countertop as his head throbbed and black flashed before his eyes, but couldn’t stop laughing. Dammit, it’s not that funny. Get a hold on yourself. The thought only made him laugh harder.

Ikara walked out of the bedroom and stared from one to the other. “What’s so funny?”

Kaidu clammed up, hiding his laughter in an instant.

Sniffing, Rowan got a grip on himself, an errant chuckle escaping every now and again but no more. “Nothing. Want eggs?”

“I could murder an egg. Hell, I could murder a whole chicken.”

“We’ve only got eggs, so you’ll have to settle.”

Ikara settled beside Kaidu at the counter. “I’ll deal, somehow.”