Zich opened his eyes slowly to the sight of a ceiling he did not recognize. The blanket draped over him was soft and far too thick compared to the rough sheets he had grown used to. His head sank further into the pillow as he tried to remember where exactly he was.

For a few seconds, he stared upward, blinking against the light leaking through the tall window beside the bed. The room around him was huge, lined with polished wood and decorated with small artifacts he had not bothered to examine the night before.

"Right," he muttered, finally remembering. He was the owner of a mansion now, which still sounded ridiculous even inside his own head.

Zich pushed the blanket aside and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, and his bare feet landed on a rug so soft it almost felt insulting.

He stood up, stretched once, and walked toward the door at the far corner of the bedroom. The bathroom was the first thing he wanted to deal with because last night he had collapsed into bed without washing the sweat or whatever else had stuck to him during the Tiamant mess.

When he pushed the door open, he stopped for a moment. The bathroom was almost as large as the bedroom itself, with a sunken tub in the center, polished stone floors, and a wide mirror running across the far wall. He stared at it for a second, sighed, and started undressing.

The bath was warm and far too comfortable. Zich let himself sink in up to his shoulders and stayed there longer than he had planned, scrubbing every inch of skin twice because once was never going to be enough for him. By the time he stepped out, the water was cloudy and his fingers were wrinkled.

A loose robe had been folded neatly on a side table alongside series of large fluffy towels. He pulled it on, tied the sash, and walked back into the bedroom while drying his hair with a smaller towel. Afterwards, he made a steaming cup of coffee.

Taking a slow sip that made his face grimace, he dropped onto a wide chair beside the window and called out,

"Status."

A translucent panel flickered open in front of him.

[Name: Zich Grave]

[Race: Human]

[Class: SSS Spirit Summoner]

[Level: 10]

[Health: 200]

[Mana: 140]

[Strength: 27]

[Agility: 12]

[Stamina: 10]

[Intelligence: 14]

[Free Attribute Points: 5]

[Current Tombstone Slots: 2/30]

[Current Summons: Slimy Lv.4 | Blood Leech Lv.3 | Silverback Ape Grunt Lv.3 | Tiamant Lv.1]

[Skills: Blood Arc Lv.2 | Super Soldier Lv.1 | Blink Lv.1]

[Technique: Saint Zich Overcharge Technique]

Zich’s eyes lingered on the mana line, and his lips pressed together in faint disapproval. One hundred and forty was not enough, not even close, considering what Tiamant alone drained out of him every time he kept the bone dragon out for more than a few minutes.

"I need to hunt," he muttered before taking another sip. Levels would push every stat up at once, and the mana pool would finally start looking like something worth using. Tiamant was strong, but a summon he could only maintain for a short window was a weapon with a very short fuse.

He set the cup down on the small table beside him and leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly at the ceiling. Silverback had still not returned , which meant Slimy and Blood Leech were his only reliable support for now. Tiamant would have to carry the weight, and Zich needed to see how the bone dragon actually behaved in a real fight rather than a courtyard demonstration.

He stood up, walked toward the dresser, and changed into proper clothes in under a minute. A short trip to the marketplace later, his spatial bag was heavier with a stack of mana potions and a few low grade recovery pills.

He spent another hour quietly scrolling through the marketplace looking for a good spot to hunt until he had narrowed down two or three hunting grounds that looked promising for his level.

Meanwhile, back inside the building Zich used to stay in, the receptionist behind the front desk was busy stamping a stack of forms when a familiar voice spoke from across the counter. Helen leaned against the wood with a polite smile, fingers tapping lightly against the surface.

"I’m looking for Zich," she said, tilting her head a little. "Is he in his room?"

"He checked out last night, ma’am," the receptionist replied without looking up.

Helen’s smile thinned as she asked, "Do you have any idea where he went?"

"Unfortunately, I can’t disclose that."

At those words, Helen’s brows pulled together as she straightened up, and her fingers stopped tapping.

"Thank you." She gave the receptionist a short nod, turned on her heel, and walked toward the exit without another word.

She had barely reached the door when another figure stepped through it. Cole brushed a few raindrops off his shoulder, scanned the lobby, and walked straight up to the same counter Helen had just left.

The receptionist looked up at him with the same flat expression and, after a brief exchange, told him exactly where Zich had gone.

Yes, unlike Helen, Cole was a close associate of the Shelter Lord, so there was no way to hide information from him.

Zich was sorting through the mana potions on the dining table when a knock echoed through the entrance hall. He frowned, set the bottle down, and walked toward the front door with no idea who would even know he was here. When he pulled it open, he found Cole standing on the step, hands tucked into his coat pockets and a faintly amused look on his face.

"You... how did you find this place?"

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Thanks to all those who support this novel with their valuable Golden Tickets, Comments, reviews and Power Stones. I really appreciate it. Another Chapter coming up in a few minutes. Stay tuned.