The morning light spilled through the penthouse windows, soft and golden, casting long shadows across the sheets. Raijo stirred, his body slow to respond, muscles aching in a way that felt earned. He sat up, yawning, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before glancing to his side.
Empty.
The space beside him was still warm, the sheets slightly rumpled, the faint scent of jasmine clinging to the pillow. He stared at it for a moment, letting the silence settle. Memories from the night before flickered through his mind — the heat, the rhythm, the way she'd unraveled in his arms, the way she'd taken control and then lost it just as fast.
He smirked to himself. So much for being just another pretty face.
Footsteps padded softly across the marble floor. He looked up.
Yumi entered the room, barefoot, wrapped in a white robe that clung to her curves like it had been tailored for her. Her hair was loosely tied back, a few strands falling around her face. In her hands, two steaming cups of coffee.
"Well, look who finally decided to wake up," she said, voice smooth but laced with amusement.
Raijo stretched, his back cracking. "Didn't think you'd be walking after last night."
She raised an eyebrow, handing him a cup. "Please. You weren't anything special."
He took the coffee, sipped, eyes never leaving hers. "Then why are you standing like you practiced it in the mirror?"
Yumi's lips twitched, but she didn't break. "You're lucky you slept in. Gave me time to do squats and stretch. Otherwise, I'd be crawling to the kitchen."
Raijo laughed, deep and low. "So I was special."
She rolled her eyes, but the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her. "Don't let it go to your head."
He leaned back against the headboard, watching her as she sat beside him. "Too late."
She sipped her coffee, hiding her smile behind the rim. "You're trouble."
"And you like trouble."
She didn't deny it.
The silence between them was warm now, not awkward. Charged, but calm. Like the eye of a storm that had already passed — or maybe the one just before the next wave hit.
—
The coffee had cooled slightly in Raijo's hands, but the weight of the moment was only beginning to warm.
He took a slow sip, then set the cup down on the nightstand. His voice, when it came, was low and steady — the teasing edge from earlier gone.
"So," he said, eyes fixed on Yumi, "what's the next step? If I'm going to be useful, I need to know where I'm going."
Yumi raised an eyebrow, amused. "You're really not going to let me enjoy my coffee in peace, are you?"
Raijo gave a half-smile. "You said you don't keep pretty things unless they're useful. I'm not here to be decoration."
She chuckled, shaking her head. "You're going to be the death of me. I'm almost thirty-eight, you know. You shouldn't be stressing me out this early in the morning."
He didn't flinch. "Then tell me."
Yumi sighed, setting her cup down and pulling her robe tighter as she sat beside him again. Her tone shifted — playful, but with a thread of something heavier beneath.
"Tell me, Raijo," she said, "do you know about the Hunters? The dungeons? The ones who walk into rifts and come out with fortunes?"
He nodded. "I've heard stories. People say they're the richest in the world. That they fight monsters, clear dungeons, get paid more than CEOs."
"Correct," she said. "They're the top of the food chain. And the world needs them more than ever."
Raijo frowned. "Okay… but what's that got to do with me?"
Yumi turned to him, her expression sharpening. "You really haven't figured it out?"
He blinked. "Figured what out?"
She leaned in, her fingers brushing lightly across his bare stomach, tracing the lines of his abs with a slow, deliberate touch. "You've survived twenty-one years on scraps. One or two meals a week. Manual labor that would break most grown men. And yet here you are — not just alive, but thriving."
Raijo's jaw tightened. "I didn't have a choice."
"No," she said softly. "But your body did. And it chose to keep going. To adapt. To grow stronger."
He looked away, jaw clenched. "My sister didn't make it."
Yumi's voice dropped, gentle but firm. "Exactly. She didn't. And that's not her fault. But you… you should've died a dozen times over. You didn't. You ever wonder why?"
Raijo was silent.
Yumi's hand rested flat against his chest now, feeling the steady thrum of his heart. "Because you have a strong mana affinity. Your body's been absorbing it, adapting to it, even without training. That kind of raw resilience? It's rare. Very rare."
Raijo stared at her, the pieces beginning to shift in his mind. The strength. The endurance. The way he could lift more, run longer, survive worse. He'd always chalked it up to stubbornness. To anger. To necessity.
But maybe it was something more.
Yumi smiled, watching the realization dawn in his eyes. "You're not just useful, Raijo. You're valuable. And if you let me, I'll show you how to become unstoppable."
Raijo exhaled sharply, setting the coffee aside and rubbing his face with both hands. "Nah. That's cap," he muttered. "Me? Mana affinity? Come on."
Yumi tilted her head, amused. "Cap?"
He looked at her, eyes serious now. "You're telling me I've got some kind of hidden power? That I'm built different? I've been eating once a day—if I'm lucky. Sleeping under bridges. Doing back-breaking labor since I was a kid. That kind of power… it's for rich people. For elites. Not for scraps like me."
Yumi sighed, setting her cup down with a soft clink. "You really are an idiot sometimes."
Raijo raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
She leaned in, her tone calm but laced with fire. "You smashed me for more than eight hours last night. Eight. Hours. And I'm not talking about lazy, half-hearted fumbling. I'm talking full-throttle, no-breaks, body-breaking intensity. And you're sitting here acting like that's normal?"
Raijo blinked, caught off guard.
Yumi stood, walking toward the window, her robe swaying with each step. "You think I haven't been with men before? Rich men. Trained men. Men with status, power, and all the resources in the world. And not one of them could do what you did last night."
She turned back to him, eyes sharp. "You didn't just survive poverty, Raijo. You thrived in it. You endured what should've killed you. And you think that's just… luck?"
He looked down, jaw tight. "There's gotta be something else."
"There is," she said. "And I'm going to show you."
—
The scene shifted.
Yumi led him through a private elevator, down into the depths of the building. Beneath the Grand Kuro Hotel was something else entirely — a sleek, high-tech training facility hidden beneath layers of concrete and steel. The air was cooler here, humming with energy.
The doors opened to a vast chamber. The walls were reinforced. The floor was marked with combat zones, mana channels, and glowing sigils. At the center stood a massive obsidian pillar, cracked and scorched from past impacts.
Raijo stared. "What is this place?"
"My personal training arena," Yumi said. "Where I test potential."
She walked to a console and tapped a few commands. A humanoid construct rose from the floor — tall, armored, glowing faintly with blue light.
"This is a mana-reactive combat dummy. It adjusts its resistance based on the user's output. Most people can't even dent it without years of training."
She turned to him. "Hit it."
Raijo hesitated. "With what?"
"Your fist. Just… hit it."
He stepped forward, unsure, and threw a punch. It landed with a dull thud. The dummy didn't move.
Yumi sighed. "Again. But this time, stop thinking. Let your body do what it's always done — survive."
Raijo narrowed his eyes. He took a breath, focused, and drove his fist forward with everything he had.
The dummy's chest cracked. A ripple of energy pulsed through the room. The lights flickered.
Raijo stumbled back, staring at his hand. "What the hell…"
Yumi smiled. "That's mana. Raw. Untamed. And it's been sleeping inside you your whole life."
He looked at her, stunned.
"You're not a scrap, Raijo," she said. "You're a weapon. And I'm going to sharpen you."
Raijo didn't speak for a long moment. Then he nodded, slow and steady.
"Alright," he said. "Show me how."
—
End of chapter 3.