After dinner I slept like the dead.
Not just tired — completely emptied.
The moment my head hit the pillow last night, my consciousness dropped like someone yanked the plug.
No dreams.
Just black.
When morning came and sunlight cut through my curtains, my whole body felt sore — shoulders especially — the after-effects of sprinting around and getting grazed by a C-class monster.
I washed up, changed, and went downstairs.
The diner's ground floor still smelled like newly polished wood, but the kitchen was already alive with the soft sound of a pan heating.
Lily was at the stove, apron tied neatly, hair pinned back.
She moved with confidence now. Yesterday she was just a good cook.
Today — she actually looked like staff.
She glanced at me and bowed lightly.
"Good morning, Boss."
"Morning," I said, taking a seat. "So? How was yesterday?"
Her face brightened immediately.
