Chapter 199: [JUMP OFF A BALCONY]

After everything with the system had finally been settled—and after Eli had somehow come to terms with the fact that a tiny, glow-worm serpent was now living in his condo—he dragged himself to the bathroom for the longest bath of his life.

A long… long… long bath.

Steam filled the mirror, warm water soothed the leftover ache in his muscles, and every time he exhaled, he felt another layer of dungeon-related trauma seep out of him.

He left Wormy outside to explore on its own.

Surprisingly, the creature seemed perfectly content to wander around quietly, occasionally letting out little curious hisses… but never once trying to escape.

It even gave him privacy.

’Great. My new roommate is more respectful than half the hunter population of Korenea.’

And when Eli finally stepped out of the bathroom—hair damp, skin warm, feeling more human than he had in hours—Wormy was exactly where he left it.

Curled neatly at the center of the bed.

Waiting for him.

Eli blinked. “…You know, I already knew you were smart,” he said as he walked toward the closet, “but you’re also very well-trained. That’s actually very interesting.”

Wormy lifted its little head proudly, chest (did it have a chest??) puffing out.

Eli snorted before rummaging for clothes.

He wanted comfort.

Real comfort.

Which was difficult, considering Elione Noa Ahn was allergic to anything that wasn’t expensive, stylish, or dramatic.

The man owned more couture than basic shirts.

After digging through at least fifteen items that looked ready for a fashion runway, Eli finally found something acceptable.

A pastel pink glittery sweater.

And white sweatpants with “ELI” embroidered on the thigh in sparkling gems.

Eli held it up.

Stared.

“…This is so tacky,” he muttered.

’Why did Elione even own this? He’s an influencer, not a disco ball.’

But comfort was comfort, and today, he didn’t care.

Today, he would stay inside.

Today, he would figure out how on Aerth he was supposed to use Elione’s influencer platform to help Lucas and his mother without blowing up their private lives.

His first idea was a fundraiser—some kind of charity event or stream.

But…

He winced.

’Kairo’s right. Too direct. Too obvious. Too risky. The media would dig into my family faster than a B-Class beast chasing dinner.’

Especially now.

Especially after the headlines.

Elione Noa Ahn — The B-Class Hunter and son of one of the most wealthiest men in Korenea, survived an SS-Class Dungeon.

With two of the strongest hunters in existence.

Wormy slithered closer, nudging his arm gently, as if sensing the heaviness returning to his thoughts.

Eli exhaled slowly and sat on the edge of the bed, sweater dangling from his fingers, his mind spinning in too many directions at once.

The warmth from his bath was already fading, replaced by a creeping heaviness settling over his shoulders again.

“So much for staying low-profile,” he whispered.

The words felt small in the quiet of the room.

Wormy—perched obediently beside him like a tiny guardian noodle—tilted its glowing head, those bright blue eyes narrowing with something almost like concern.

It let out a soft, sympathetic hiss.

Eli huffed a humorless laugh. “You’re right. With Elione’s reputation, there was no chance to stay lowkey.”

He pulled the pastel sweater over his head, the glitter catching the room’s light. It was too pink, too sparkly, too Elione.

And yet… comforting in an odd, embarrassing way.

Eli rested his elbows on his knees, hands slipping into his hair as he stared at the floor.

“Hmmm…” he murmured, voice low. “What to do. What to do?”

Eli stayed there for a long moment—sweater half-settled on his shoulders, hair still dripping down his neck, Wormy curled silently against his thigh—just staring blankly at the expensive recording gear stacked neatly on Elione’s vanity table.

Ring lights—three different kinds.

A stabilizer with buttons he didn’t even recognize.

Wireless mics in their charging dock.

A camera that looked like it cost more than his entire salary as a cleaner for a year.

Tripods of various heights.

Several lenses lined up like little soldiers.

A whole drawer labeled “STREAMING ESSENTIALS.”

He stared.

And stared.

And continued to stare.

“…What do I even do with all of that?” he muttered weakly. “I don’t know shit about this.”

His voice cracked at the end.

The stress began to throb behind his eyes again, a tight little band wrapping around his skull. He let himself fall forward, rubbing both palms over his face until his skin dragged.

’How am I supposed to be an influencer? I barely even know how to press record. Elione had a whole career built on this stuff—filters, poses, makeup tutorials, product reviews?! I barely know how to take a decent ID picture.’

He dragged his hands down until his cheeks squished weirdly.

Wormy—ever attentive, ever puppy-like—slithered up his leg and nudged his elbow like it was giving him emotional support he clearly did not request but desperately needed.

Eli let out a soft, miserable laugh. “Don’t comfort me. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Wormy tilted its head, scales glowing faintly, and wrapped its tiny body around his wrist like a glowing bracelet. It let out a soft, reassuring hiss—gentle, encouraging, like the world’s smallest pep talk.

Eli’s chest loosened a little.

Just a little.

Despite it being an SS-Class dungeon monster—a creature meant to be terrifying and deadly—it was painfully cute.

Puppy-like. Comforting in a way he didn’t expect. Its presence created a small pocket of calm inside the storm of his thoughts.

His sigh left him shakier than he wanted.

“I’m still not over it,” he whispered to the dim room. “Everything. The SS-Class dungeon. The system glitching. You showing up in my condo. Kairo and Caelen actually working together—hell, Caelen and his whole team appearing in the dungeon because of the system. And then Orion—”

He stopped.

His breath snagged in his throat.

His fingertips curled slightly.

’Don’t think about it. Not right now. Not now.’

He forced the thoughts away, forced his breathing to steady—even if only barely.

Then—his stomach let out a humiliating, monstrous growl.

Wormy perked up immediately, head bobbing in concern.

Eli blinked down at the tiny serpent. “…Are you hungry?”

Wormy blinked back.

Then it smiled—an actual, tiny, delighted smile—and wagged its little tail like an electric puppy.

But it didn’t open its mouth. Didn’t hiss for food. Didn’t threaten to eat his neighbors or the couch or the entire building.

It just…

Wiggled.

Eli squinted at it.

“…Is that a yes or a no?”

Wormy’s only response was a cheerful hiss—high-pitched and squeaky—like someone stepped on the world’s cutest stress ball.

Eli groaned softly. “That’s not helpful, but fine. Come on. Let’s see what you and I can both eat from the kitchen.”

He pushed himself up with a tired grunt, cupping Wormy carefully between his palms so its tiny glowing body didn’t slip through his fingers.

Wormy wriggled with excitement, its tail flicking as if it was ready for a grand food adventure.

Eli managed two whole steps toward the hallway—

Ding dong.

He froze.

The sound cut through the condo like a blade, sharp and sudden. His heart lurched, stopping half a beat too long before slamming back into rhythm.

Slowly… very slowly… he turned toward the front door.

’Now who on Aerth could that be?’ he thought with a tightening in his chest. ’If it’s Caelen’s team again ready to kidnap me…I’m jumping out the window.’

Being kidnapped by Lion’s Fang had left him a little twitchy especially because he was pulled into a dungeon raid with JUST Caelen.

Kairo’s unannounced visit that led to the SS-Class dungeon raid didn’t help either.

And with his luck?

It was definitely someone important.

Someone exhausting.

Someone he absolutely did not have the energy for.

His eye twitched.

He wanted rest.

He wanted food.

He wanted to breathe—just breathe—without new trauma showing up on his doorstep.

But then—

Ding dong.

The second chime echoed through the condo, louder, almost urgent.

Wormy stiffened in his palm. Its glow dimmed, scales darkening slightly as the tiny creature stared toward the door too, coiling itself as if ready to throw hands—well, throw body—if needed.

“Hissssss…?”

A low warning.

Protective.

Ready.

Eli’s stomach dropped.

’Oh fuck. I also have a monster… fuck.’

He crouched a little, whispering urgently, “Wormy, I need you to hide. Okay? Whoever it is, they’re not dangerous. I can sense danger.”

Wormy stared up at him with big glowing eyes—skeptical, like it did not trust his judgment whatsoever.

Eli pressed a finger gently to its head. “Please. I don’t want them to see you. Just hide for now.”

The creature blinked.

Then—

It slithered quickly up his arm, across his shoulder, and tucked itself neatly beneath the hood of his pastel pink glitter sweater like it was burrowing into a warm nest.

Eli blinked.

“…That works too.”

’Alright. Time to open the door and see who it is.’

Eli moved toward the entrance like a man marching directly into a firing squad.

Every step felt heavier than the last, like gravity itself was trying to drag him back into his room, back into the safety of blankets and denial.

Wormy shifted beneath his pastel-pink hood, its tiny body pressing warmly against the side of his neck—comforting, but also reminding him that yes, he currently had an SS-Class monster cuddled up like a pet hamster.

Eli gently pressed a hand over his chest.

Nothing.

No danger.

Just nerves.

Unfortunately, nerves were far more dramatic than monsters.

He stopped in front of the door, staring at the polished silver handle like it was a weapon aimed at him.

His reflection stared back, wide-eyed and tired, glitter sweater sparkling far too cheerfully for the emotional misery he was going through. Wormy’s glow faintly lit the hood around his face, making him look like some kind of magical stressed-out raccoon.

He puffed out his cheeks.

“…Please no more dungeon raids,” he whispered to himself. “Please no more kidnappings, no monster attacks, no S-Class bullshit—just—just let it be a normal human being.”

His hand hovered over the knob.

He squeezed his eyes shut, whispering one last defeated prayer to whatever gods were responsible for this ridiculous world.

’I swear I’m jumping off the balcony.’

He grabbed the doorknob.

Twisted.

And pulled the door open.

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