Kaizen collapsed onto a park bench. He sounded like a dying vacuum cleaner.
Wheeze. Haa. Wheeze.
"Hold on..." he gasped, clutching his burning chest. "This doesn't make sense."
He looked at his trembling hands.
"I'm F-Rank. Sure, that's trash tier, but in RPG logic, even F-Rank is better than a civilian! I should have at least 10 Strength and 10 Agility! Why am I dying after sprinting for three minutes?"
He checked his internal status.
[ Stamina: 2 / 10 ]
[ Status: Winded. Mild Asthma. ]
"Mild asthma?!" Kaizen shouted at the sky. "My character has debuffs?! Who programmed this?!"
People walking by gave him weird looks. Kaizen quickly shut up and pretended to be admiring the trees.
After ten minutes of recovering his will to live, he stood up.
"Okay. Dorms. Just get to the dorms, lock the door, and never come out."
The male dorms were situated on the edge of the campus. A "short walk," the guidebook said.
In reality, it was a five-kilometer hike.
"This campus is too big," Kaizen grumbled, dragging his feet along the paved path. "Why does a high school need its own ecosystem?"
He patted his pockets. "Where is the key?"
He dug around and pulled out a sleek, black rectangular card. It felt expensive. Heavy.
Engraved in gold letters on the front was his name and the room number.
"Gold engraving?" Kaizen raised an eyebrow. "Fancy. I thought F-Ranks would get a piece of cardboard with a number written in crayon."
It took him another half hour to reach the dorm complex. By the time he arrived, he was a sweaty, disheveled mess.
He stumbled to the front gate. A security guard was sitting in the booth, staring blankly at a monitor.
The guard's name tag literally read: [ Security Guard ].
"Name?" the guard asked without looking up.
"Kaizen," he wheezed.
"ID."
Kaizen slapped the black card against the scanner.
Beep.
The gate opened.
"Welcome to Zenith Dorms," the guard droned. "Don't die."
"Thanks," Kaizen muttered. "I'm trying."
He walked into the lobby. It was massive, filled with plush sofas and chandeliers. First-year students were flooding in, dragging suitcases and magical beasts in cages. Upperclassmen leaned over the railings of the upper floors, watching the "fresh meat" with predatory grins.
Kaizen kept his head down and made a beeline for the elevators.
He squeezed into a lift with four other boys. They were all chatting excitedly about their ranks and skills. Kaizen pressed himself into the corner, trying to look like a coat rack.
Ding.
Sixth floor.
He practically fell out of the elevator.
"Wing L... Wing L..."
He followed the signs down a long, carpeted hallway. It was quiet here. Surprisingly quiet.
"610... 612... 614..."
He stopped.
At the end of the hall, isolated from the others, was a heavy oak door.
[ 616 ]
Kaizen stared at the number. Then at his card.
[ Name: Kaizen Renji Asahina ]
[L wing, Room 616]
"616," he whispered. "Huh. That's funny. Isn't that the alternative Number of the Beast in some texts? Like the number 666?"
He let out a dry, nervous chuckle.
"Very strange number. Almost like a Demon King Candidate would choose this edgy roo—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't even get to knock.
Click.
The door swung open.
Kaizen looked up.
Standing in the doorway, wearing a pristine black silk shirt, holding a glass of what looked suspiciously like red wine or blood maybe… was a dark-haired boy with blood-red eyes.
Klaus Silver.
The Demon King Candidate.
Kaizen dropped his key card.
He looked at the ceiling.
'Take me. Please. Any UFO. Any alien species. Just beam me up. I'll let you probe me. I don't care. Get me out of here.'
...
Klaus Silver didn't move. He stood in the doorway, blocking the path like a final boss guarding the only save point in a dungeon.
His blood-red eyes narrowed. A faint, invisible wave of mana pulsed out, washing over Kaizen from head to toe.
'Hmmm...just rank F-. Not even proper F rank. Pitiful human...'
Klaus relaxed his shoulders by a fraction of a millimeter.
'Excellent,' the Demon Prince thought. 'A bottom-feeder. A harmless speck of dust. He will not have the intelligence to question my rituals, nor the power to interfere with my conquest. The perfect roommate.'
Klaus stepped aside, sweeping his arm in a gesture that belonged in a royal court, not a dorm room.
"Enter, Human," he commanded. His voice was deep, echoing with unnecessary gravitas.
Kaizen froze mid-step.
'Human?!'
Kaizen's internal scream was loud enough to shatter glass.
'Who calls their roommate 'Human'?!'
'If you're trying to blend in, at least try to act like one! That's like a dog walking up to another dog and saying, "Greetings, fellow Canine."'
'You are literally the worst spy in history! You might as well wear a t-shirt that says "I <3 HELL"!'
"Th-thanks," Kaizen squeaked, deciding that correcting the Demon Lord's acting skills was a quick way to get decapitated.
He shuffled past Klaus, holding his breath, and stepped into Room 616.
The room was spacious, but it was split down the middle like a visual representation of Heaven and Hell.
The left side—Kaizen's side—was empty, save for his luggage which had been magically transported there. It looked normal. Boring. Beige. Safe.
The right side—Klaus's side—looked like Dracula's home office.
The curtains were drawn tight, blocking out every single photon of sunlight. Black candles (scented like 'Midnight Grave,' probably) were flickering on the bedside table.
But the centerpiece was the desk.
It was covered in ancient, leather-bound tomes that looked like they were bound in human skin. Parchment was scattered everywhere, covered in jagged, violent scribbles.
Kaizen glanced at the paper Klaus had been working on.
It was a complex geometric circle filled with runes that hurt his eyes just looking at them.
'That's a soul extraction circle,' Kaizen realized, his blood turning to ice. 'He's not doing homework. He's calculating the geometry required to rip my soul out of my nose while I sleep.'
Klaus walked past him, his movements fluid and silent, like a shadow detaching itself from the wall. He sat back down at his desk, picked up a quill made from a crow's feather, and continued scratching at the paper.
Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.
The sound was agonizingly loud in the silence.
Kaizen stood by his bed, afraid to breathe. He started unpacking his bag very, very slowly.
'Just put the shirt in the drawer. Don't look at the demon. Put the socks away. Don't look at the demon. Oh god, he stopped writing.'
Klaus had indeed stopped. He slowly turned his chair around.
He watched Kaizen placing a toothbrush on the nightstand.
"You possess... many belongings," Klaus observed.
Kaizen looked at his three shirts and one pair of pants. "Uh... I guess?"
"Material attachments," Klaus scoffed softly. "Typical of your kind. Clinging to the transient."
'My kind?! Dude, stop blowing your cover! Just say "cool shirt" or something!'
Klaus reached for the wine glass on his desk. The liquid inside was thick, dark, and viscous.
Klaus swirled it gently, watching it coat the glass.
He looked at Kaizen, then at the glass. He felt a rare pang of... what was this? Hospitality? The guidebook said roommates should share resources to build alliances.
Klaus extended the glass slightly.
"Would you partake?" Klaus asked, his tone flat but aristocratic. "This vintage... is rich with iron."
Kaizen's brain short-circuited.
'Iron? Red liquid? Demon?'
He didn't hear "Vintage." He heard "Vitality."
He didn't hear "Wine." He heard "Blood."
'He's drinking blood! He probably blended Student #5 into a smoothie and now he's offering me a sip! It's a test! If I drink it, I become his ghoul minion!'
Kaizen turned pale. He waved his hands frantically, backing up until his legs hit his bed.
"N-no! No thank you! I... I really need my blood! I mean—I have plenty! I'm full! Not thirsty at all!"
Klaus tilted his head.
'Need his blood?' Klaus thought. 'Why would he need to clarify that? Does he suffer from anemia? Is he implying that drinking this grape juice would disrupt his fragile circulatory system?'
Klaus looked at the "Human" with pity.
'So frail. He fears a simple beverage will destroy him. Humans are truly pathetic creatures.'
"Suit yourself," Klaus murmured, bringing the glass to his lips. "More for me."
He took a long, slow sip.
Kaizen watched in horror as the Demon Prince drank the "blood," licked his lips with a satisfied sigh, and turned back to his dark rituals.
"Do not disturb my concentration," Klaus said, his back turned. "I am... calculating the trajectory of the stars for the coming event."
'He's planning the apocalypse,' Kaizen translated. 'He's figuring out the exact time to summon the meteor.'
"Got it," Kaizen whispered. "I'll be quiet as a mouse. A dead mouse. A non-existent mouse."
Kaizen sat on his bed, clutching his pillow like a shield.
He looked at the clock. It was only 2:00 PM.
'Two days until classes start. Two days locked in a room with a demon who is calculating how to bring apocalypse to this academy.'
Kaizen stared at the back of Klaus's head.
'If I survive this weekend, I'm changing my name and moving to a farm.'