Malik's eyes flashed open, and the first thing he saw was the ceiling—the white POP that could only be found in the homes of the wealthy, not the worn-out PVC from his apartment. He rose from the bed, and surprisingly, he was feeling okay. No headache. No body aches. No stomach pain.
A smile formed on his face as he recalled the heavenly feast he'd had in his dream. "I wish it was real though."
That was what he thought—until he stood up on both feet and felt energized and extraordinarily calm, something he hadn't felt in a long time.
He quickly walked over to the mirror on the right wall. His head had a bandage wrapped around it, and his eyes seemed to have regained their color. He didn't look dehydrated like before, and the grumbling in his stomach had vanished.
"Wait… was that feast real?" Malik asked aloud, glancing around the room. He sniffed the air, and the lingering aroma of food wafted into his nostrils.
"It was real… I really ate all that food. What's going to happen to me?" he muttered, unbuttoning his shirt. He checked his stomach and found it perfect—even his six-pack abs were fully defined.
"But how could I have eaten all that food and it feels like it's already digested? I don't feel any side effects."
Unbeknownst to Malik, his situation in God's Realm had already started affecting his normal life. As he continued inspecting his body, he noticed that the old black mark on his arm—the injury from the accident—had completely vanished. It felt as if the wound had never existed in the first place.
"Eeh… is this my body?" Malik whispered. He knew that the scar from that accident was meant to be permanent. But now, it was gone. Completely.
He decided to check his whole body, so he undid the hook on his trousers and pulled them down—just as the door suddenly creaked open, revealing the figure of Carita.
"Huh."
"Eeh..."
"Aaargh!!"
Gbam!
She slammed the door shut in a flash and bolted away, her cheeks burning furiously. Even the hoodie she wore couldn't hide the redness spreading across her face.
"What's wrong, Miss Carita? You look—"
"It's nothing. It's nothing…" she cut off the Head Butler as she approached him, tugging at her hoodie to hide her expression.
"Okay then. How is he? Is he awake?" the Head Butler asked again. But the image of Malik pulling his trousers down flashed in her mind, making every hair on her body stand on end. Her face burned even redder.
The white hoodie might have done a decent job of hiding it, but the Head Butler could see through any disguise. He opened his mouth to ask another question—only for the door to open again and a figure to step out.
"I'm sorry, Miss… I didn't mean to—"
"Aaaargh!" Carita screamed loudly, cutting Malik off mid-sentence. She turned and sprinted away without a second's delay.
Malik stood there, speechless and confused. Speechless because he wasn't sure if he was at fault or not. Confused because he didn't know where he was or what state he was currently in. All he knew was that the man in a white suit standing before him had the answers to all his questions.
"Pardon her manners. Young Miss Carita isn't always like that," the Head Butler said, causing Malik's eyes to flash in realization.
'Miss Carita… that name sounds familiar… the white hoodie…'
"You mean that's Carita White? A third-year Law student at FUO?" Malik couldn't contain his shock as his body trembled.
"Yes. Look around—you're in the White Mansion."
When Malik scanned the surroundings, he noticed that everything was pure white brilliance. Even the butler was dressed in a white suit.
"Impossible… Carita White doesn't get along with anyone. She barely interacts with people. How could she…"
"I was just as surprised when she brought you here and even called in the White family doctor to treat you."
Malik's body trembled with back-to-back shocks as the Head Butler continued to recount what had happened. He even described how Malik devoured the food and Carita's reactions. Malik couldn't help but feel utterly embarrassed. He wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.
"You seem more energetic than before, but you can rest a few more days. We'll call the—"
"Nay… There's no need to bother, Great Sir. I've already been a burden to the White family—especially Miss Carita. Words alone can't express my gratitude, but I'll make sure to repay this favor someday." Malik gave a slight bow, then turned toward the door he assumed was the exit.
The Head Butler was already developing a good impression of the young man and took a liking to him. But a wide grin crept across his face the moment Malik pulled the door knob and stepped through.
"Aaargh!"
Gbam!
A loud scream echoed, followed by a door slamming shut.
"I wanted to warn you—that's Miss Carita's private space, not the exit," the butler chuckled loudly, causing Malik's face to flush with embarrassment.
His cheeks burned like fire. He had just seen the face of the lone wolf of their faculty—without her hoodie. And without a doubt, Esther still had a lot to learn.
"Come on, let me give you a lift back to your place," the Head Butler said, turning toward the real exit. Malik followed him slowly, eager to leave the mansion before he died of shame.
Only if he knew… that not long ago, his face and Carita's had been just inches apart—he might have committed suicide on the spot.