Charles stopped in front of the Storm Clan's medical area entrance, jaw slightly agape.
The glass door reflected sunlight, revealing a gleaming white ceramic floor that looked polished hourly. Through it, he glimpsed a ceiling with bright LED lights casting an almost blinding clarity.
'What is this place?' he thought, blinking.
He'd expected a rustic room with creaky cots, not something straight out of a modern hospital from his world.
When he pushed the door open and stepped inside, a blast of cold air hit him, making him shiver.
"Air conditioning…" Charles muttered, a disbelieving grin spreading.
'This is next-level,' he thought, the cool air soothing the heat of his sweat-soaked tunic.
At the center of the lobby stood a polished wooden counter, behind which sat a receptionist.
The woman, about thirty, had brown hair pulled into a tight bun and wore a white blouse with a gray skirt, like she worked in a corporate office. A silver name tag reading "Clara" was pinned to her blouse.
Her thin-framed glasses gave her a professional air, and she was scribbling in a notebook when Charles approached.
She looked up, expression neutral.
"How can I help you?" she asked, her tone efficient but not unfriendly.
Charles raised his hands, showing his reddened, slightly burned palms.
"Messes up my hands," he said, scratching his neck. "Instructor told me to get checked."
The receptionist nodded, grabbing a pen.
"What's your rank?" she asked, still writing.
Charles hesitated, still processing his promotion.
"Just got bumped to Novice," he said, a hint of pride slipping through.
Clara raised an eyebrow, but her face stayed impassive.
"Uh-huh," she said, sounding almost bored. "And your name, please."
"Rian," Charles replied instinctively.
But when she looked at him, clearly expecting more, he added, "Rian Cole."
The receptionist froze mid-write, eyes widening.
For a split second, her professional composure cracked, and Charles caught the shock on her face.
'A Cole?' Clara thought, heart racing.
She'd never seen this kid before and hadn't expected someone with that surname at Novice rank.
The Cole name was synonymous with power in the clan, tied directly to the leader.
Quickly, Clara regained her poise and cleared her throat.
"My apologies, Mr. Cole," she said, her tone now far more polite. "Please take a seat for a moment."
She gestured to a cushioned bench against the wall, with gray pillows that looked comfier than anything in his old room.
Charles blinked, thrown by her sudden shift.
'Mr. Cole…?' he thought, heading to the bench. 'What was that about?'
He sat, the cool air from the AC brushing his face. The bench was so comfortable he nearly sighed.
'This is paradise compared to the training field,' he thought, relaxing for the first time that day.
As he waited, he scanned the lobby: white walls with wooden panels, a potted plant in the corner, and the soft hum of the air conditioner.
'If the clan has this, why don't they modernize the rest of the place?' he thought, frowning.
Less than ten seconds later, a nurse hurried through a side door.
She was young, maybe twenty-five, with blonde hair in a ponytail and a light gray tunic that looked like a practical version of Clara's outfit. She clutched a clipboard, her face a mix of respect and nerves.
"Rian Cole?" she asked, looking at Charles with anxious deference.
Charles raised a hand.
"That's me," he said, standing.
The nurse nodded quickly.
"Please, follow me," she said, her tone so polite Charles felt out of place.
She led him down a hall to a small room with a camilla covered in a white sheet, a desk with modern medical gear—syringes, monitors, glass vials—and an adjustable ceiling lamp.
'Yup, this is a real hospital,' Charles thought, impressed.
The nurse pointed to the camilla.
"Please, sit," she said, still overly respectful.
Charles sat, the cold plastic of the camilla chilling his legs.
"Just your hands hurting?" the nurse asked, opening her clipboard and grabbing a pen.
Charles shook his head.
"Not just the hands," he said, touching his face. "My face and chest got banged up too. The explosion was… stronger than I expected."
The nurse nodded, her expression serious.
"Please remove the top of your tunic," she said, turning to grab a jar of ointment and bandages.
Charles complied, unbuttoning the tunic and letting it fall to his waist, baring his chest.
The nurse examined his skin, noting red scratches on his chest and a slight burn on his cheek.
"Not serious," she said reassuringly. "But we'll treat it to prevent infection."
As she carefully applied the ointment, she started asking questions.
"You sure nothing else hurts?" she said, meeting his eyes. "Head, legs, anything internal?"
Charles, surprised by the thoroughness, shook his head.
"Nah, I'm good," he said, chuckling nervously. "Just hands, face, chest. Accident, that's all."
She nodded but kept checking, like she didn't want to miss a thing.
'He's a Cole,' the nurse thought, a knot in her stomach. 'I can't screw this up.'
Her caution was so intense Charles started feeling uneasy.
'Why're they treating me like I'm a big deal?' he thought, frowning.
When the nurse finished, bandaging his hands and applying cream to his face and chest, she stepped back.
"Would you like something to eat, Mr. Cole?" she asked, offering a shy smile.
She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a laminated menu, handing it to him.
"Here are the options."
Charles took the menu, expecting something basic like the dining hall's bread and egg, but his jaw dropped.
There were meat sandwiches, fruit salads, soups, and even ice cream in multiple flavors.
'Ice cream here? For real?' he thought, eyes wide.
"This is… insane," he muttered, looking at the nurse. "Uh… I'll take a chicken sandwich and vanilla ice cream."
The nurse smiled, jotting down the order.
"It'll be here in a few minutes," she said.
Then, with an even more respectful tone, she added, "If you need anything else, just let us know, Mr. Cole. This place is always at your family's service."
She gave a slight bow and left, closing the door softly.
Charles sat alone on the camilla, menu still in hand.
"Family?" he muttered, frowning until a key detail clicked.
The Cole surname belonged to Kraus Cole, the clan leader. It made sense they'd treat him like this, but…
Why hadn't anyone shown him this respect before?