The safehouse remote was more than just a convenience—it was a crutch. With the press of a button, a portal as large as my IFV materialized before me, its lights cutting through the dark grassland and illuminating the other side, where the sun still shone. I drove my IFV through the portal and the portal closed, shutting the dimension from the outside world.
“Ah, home sweet home,” I muttered, carefully maneuvering the IFV into the garage. I took my time, ensuring I didn’t scratch the walls or clip the Hilux parked snugly nearby. It still amazed me how this garage could easily accommodate four of these beasts if I counted right.
Once parked, I climbed out of the IFV and headed toward the side door that led into my house. The moment I stepped inside, the fatigue hit me like a wave. Without even bothering to shed my tactical rig, I flopped onto the plush couch in the guest room. It faced the television, but I was too drained to turn it on.
Sure, the job was exhausting, but the pay? Absolutely worth it. I earned more in a single day than my annual salary could have promised back home. It felt surreal, almost like a dream.
Owning a house in my country had always seemed like a pipe dream, with skyrocketing real estate prices making anything beyond a tiny flat feel unattainable. Yet here I was, living in a semi-mansion, with a $500,000 property to my name and a fully armed infantry fighting vehicle parked in the garage—a machine powerful enough to level a small city.
Ain, wake up, you still have to wash the grime from your clothes.
“3…2…1…, wake up!” I stood up from the chair and headed to the bathroom.
The white marble tiles reflected the soft glow of the recessed lighting, while the massive bathtub stood as the centerpiece, its edges lined with sleek chrome fittings and a built-in touchscreen to adjust everything from water temperature to jet pressure. I had nothing to say, that thing must have cost in the realm of thousands.
No shit, I swear, contractors might be soldiers, but they are quite a snob, aren’t they?
I stripped off my grime-covered tactical rig and tossed it into the washing machine in the corner. Turning back to the bathtub, I adjusted the water temperature and set the jets to a gentle pulse. Warm steam began to fill the room as the tub slowly filled, the sound of running water providing a soothing backdrop. I stepped in and let out a long sigh as the heat embraced me, melting away the tension in my muscles.
It used to be rare to have moments like these—peaceful, quiet, and utterly detached from the chaos of having a job. I usually took a short brisk shower in the hospital before running back to the ICU because the hospital announcer constantly announced code blue. I doubted that I would be able to retire happily either.
I leaned back, closing my eyes as the jets massaged my back. What should I do next? Drakes and wyverns were clearly not a threat to the autocannons as far as I was concerned. Maybe destroying the Divinity’s armored vehicles would net me a reasonable income, or maybe, I could actually pull off an insane job like stealing military hardware from the Union.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
I also hadn’t explored the possibility of going to another realm. David constantly mentioned that thing, and Eleanor also mentioned that I could cross to another realm, but what would I do there? David said I could do a heist, but for that, I needed a team.
Then, a thought crossed my mind, what if I stole something so valuable from another realm and tried to sell it here, it might work, right? I meant these other realms were technically infinite, right? Say, I could steal a tray filled with gold and sell all of them here, I would get an F-15 in no time.
I pushed away the thought for now. I chose to focus on the soothing jets massaging against every inch of my body with smooth pulsating water. Yeah, this was life, had I not had more ambitions, maybe I would just settle at this point.
The distant beeping of the washing machine pulled me from my thoughts. With a reluctant groan, I sat up in the tub, reaching for the soap to scrub away the day. As much as I wanted to stay submerged in the warm water, there were still things to do.
I pulled the note from the wardrobe again and reread it, a bemused smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.
Thought you needed some housewarming gift, and sorry for the fiasco in Solimat.
-David
I folded the note and slipped it into the pocket of my bathrobe, letting my gaze wander over the wardrobe once more. It wasn’t just stocked with military uniforms and flannel shirts; tucked among them were casual clothes as well—pajamas, t-shirts, jeans, even a couple of hoodies. Oddly thoughtful. Practical, even. The kind of wardrobe that would suit someone constantly straddling the line between combat zones and quiet evenings in a mansion-sized safehouse.
Still, the gesture was... surprising. Was this David’s idea of a “housewarming gift,” or was there something more behind it? Eleanor, ever the instigator, likely had a hand in this. Knowing her, she probably enjoyed meddling from the sidelines, orchestrating these little interactions, like how she could sway Wilhelm. As the guildmaster, she seemed to know everything about everyone, and I had no doubt she’d provided David with my exact clothing sizes—probably along with a few unsolicited suggestions.
“Does he think this is how you flirt?” I muttered, shaking my head.
A quiet chuckle escaped me as I pulled out a set of pajamas—simple, comfortable, and somehow just my style. Of course, David wouldn’t half-ass a gift, even if it was just for appearances. Knowing Eleanor, she’d probably approved every item in this wardrobe herself.
Changing into the pajamas, I let my thoughts drift. Sure, I could’ve bought all these clothes myself—probably a dozen times over with the money I was earning. Hell, I could’ve bought out a whole designer brand. But this? This felt different. Personal. Like someone had taken the time to think about what I might actually need, not just what would look good on paper.
“Well, I’ll gladly accept your kindness, David,” I muttered, running a hand over the soft fabric with a small, amused smile. The pajamas were ridiculously comfortable, the kind of thing that could almost make you forget a day of combat and chaos.
The fiasco in Solimat, huh? A faint grimace replaced my smile. Maybe this was his way of apologizing, though the man’s act in Solimat suggested that she didn’t feel any sorry for the task force. Still, the thought was appreciated. Whether it was Eleanor’s meddling or David’s own brand of subtlety, it was a gesture I couldn’t dismiss.
With the comfortable clothes on my body, I quickly jumped into the bed and closed my eyes.