As soon as Dante entered his room, Rim went to the kitchen to cook. Just like most nights, she put the egg, cheese and vegetable mixture on a slice of bread.

Eating the dish - affectionately referred to by her brother as eggesh - was a ritual for Rim. The peculiar taste of the mixture of protein and vegetables brought her a sense of nostalgia that was hard to describe.

She remembered the dinners at her parents' house, when everyone would gather around the table, talking, laughing. The prayer before the meal was remembered with fondness, even though Rim had long ago dismissed the existence of God. If there was a higher being, he was not a God, but a demon.

A benevolent god would never have allowed what happened to her family.

Offering some of her food to Hector, he refused, as expected. Before they met, Rim had a mistaken notion of the concept of discipline. After, there it was, fully embedded in a man.

At times, Rim admired it. Hector followed to the letter all the recommendations given by the boy's masters. This explained how he was the closest to gold among them. Of course, this added up to his almost infinite resources.

It was unlikely that, in this disciplined and rich boy, Rim had also found her best friend. Although he was kind, Hector could not fool her. He had the will to overthrow the system too, although he had totally different motives from her.

"They're not so bad, you know." Hector said, as he filled his tea cup once more. The smell of that herb was unbearable, and yet he drank gallons and gallons of it every day.

Rim had a theory that so much tea was the reason his bald head was so shiny. But the boy had not liked the times when Rim had brought up this theory.

"The two stooges, you say?" said Rim, leaving her clean plate in the sink. She couldn't waste any time. She still had a lot to be done until the next sunrise.

"Yes. Although I feel they are both keeping some secret, they are good people. Even Sabrina, despite her spiky manner, doesn't seem to have any hostility. At least directed at us."

When it came to people, Rim would never say that Hector was wrong, far said. He had an excellent moral compass, sometimes seeing beneath the mask of others.

As she passed through the common room, she looked at her creations affectionately. To her, each of the metal objects imbued with Qi was like a child, the result of much effort and sleepless nights. Of course, a child with mortal powers, no less.

Going to her room, she put on some comfortable clothes and sat down at the table. Opening the drawer, as gently as she could, she ran her hand over a photo of her family. If she could, she would give anything to spend a few more moments with them. Unfortunately, it seemed that everything, at the moment, was insufficient for such a miracle.

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She liked to look at the photo before starting her work. The feeling of nostalgia soon gave way to anger, which led to the resolution of revenge. This made her concentrate fully on her work, without being easily distracted.

Taking a small metal sphere, she began to channel her Qi into the object. She quickly identified that it was a sphere composed of 52% steel molecules, 30% iron, and 18% brass. Not bad for the price paid.

Pulling a core crafting device from the drawer, she drilled small holes in the ball, so that he could fill it with the Qi of the monster cores she had stored. Few knew of this talent of hers. She would have no peace otherwise.

People skilled in the art of core crafting were highly sought after, even by the major sects. Rim's natural ability, coupled with her Qi type, would make her a luxury item for any of them.

In a state of focus, she dwelled on her new work. The upside of metal cultivator was that creating mystical objects also aided her in her cultivation. Soon, any item creation made her doubly stronger.

--

When Rim closed the door, Hector sneaked up. Like clockwork, she always gave a long sigh just before she started work. He didn't know exactly what had happened to her family, but he could deduce that they were not on vacation in some tropical area.

Deciding that he would cultivate before bed, he went to the door that led to the men's bathroom. Just ahead was the door that led to the women's restroom. He hoped Dante was hygienic, as he didn't want to have to deal with imperfections in his routine.

Filling the tub with water, he put his finger in and let a little Qi flow. When he felt that the water was about to freeze, he stopped the flow.

Satisfied, he stepped into the tub. He had learned long ago that it was easier to begin the cultivation process if his body was cold. Relaxation helped too.

After a few minutes of cultivation, he got dressed and went to his room. Ironically, Hector's room was the warmest of his colleagues.

He had pinned items that reminded him of his family on every wall. He could not wait to see them again. He hoped that when the time came, he would have already become a Slayer.

He took out of the closet a small box, made of a black metal. When he opened it, a freezing breeze took over his room, causing the air to take on a whitish appearance.

Already feeling his Qi reacting to the impending cold, he wasted no time. He assumed a measuring position, and began to cultivate.

That sacred treasure was probably worth more than the family fortune of most of the other disciples. Hector knew he had been born into a cradle of gold, but he was also sure that he had made good use of the lemons given to him by life.

As he felt the icy Qi coursing through his channels, he flirted with his physique. Every night he would discover a little better what the limits of his Oversoul state were.

When he had fully done so, it would be time to move to the next level. Although the others didn't know it, it was an essential requirement for a Slayer to reach the realm of the sovereigns. This would only be possible for those who had conquered their monster core, being fully in tune with it.

As he cultivated, a feeling that Hector was still getting used to took over him. It was a deep joy, which seemed to come from his own Qi. Hector had learned that this feeling was a consequence of his monster core. As a cultivator approached the next realm, communication with the monster within became more and more essential.

For the moment he could not communicate directly, only feel small sparks of sensation.

This already made him happy, as it gave him the assurance that he was going the right way.

He only hoped to reach his destination in time to help his father.