Kaizen collapsed onto a park bench like a puppet with cut strings. He sounded like a dying vacuum cleaner desperately trying to suck up its last bit of carpet.
Wheeze. Haa. Wheeze.
"Hold on..." he gasped between breaths, clutching his burning chest. "This doesn't make any sense at all."
He stared down at his trembling hands.
"I'm F-Rank. Sure, that's complete trash tier, but in basic RPG logic, even F-Rank should be way better than a normal civilian!"
"I should have at least 10 Strength and 10 Agility as base stats! Why am I literally dying after sprinting for only three minutes?"
He checked his internal status screen with growing horror.
[Stamina: 2 / 10]
[Status: Winded. Mild Asthma.]
"Mild asthma?!" Kaizen shouted at the sky like he was personally challenging god. "My character sheet has actual debuffs?! Who the hell programmed this?!"
Several people walking by gave him seriously weird looks. Kaizen quickly shut his mouth and pretended to be very interested in admiring the trees.
After spending ten full minutes recovering his will to actually continue living, he finally stood up on shaky legs.
"Okay. Dorms. Just get to the dorms, lock the door behind you, and never come out again."
The male dormitories were supposedly situated on the far edge of campus. A "short walk," the official guidebook had cheerfully claimed.
In actual reality, it was a brutal five-kilometer hike.
"This campus is way too big. Should I take the Arcane Caddy system? Nah, I don't think its available in this path... Man, what a drag...."
Kaizen grumbled under his breath, dragging his feet along the paved pathway.
"Why does a high school need its own complete ecosystem?"
He started patting down his pockets frantically.
"Wait, where's my room key?"
He dug around and finally pulled out the sleek black rectangular card. It was his student I.D. card. The card was basically everything in itself. Room key, student I.D., Debit card and all.
It felt expensive and heavy in his hand.
Engraved in actual gold letters on the lower left side of the card was his assigned room number.
"Gold engraving?" Kaizen raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty fancy. I honestly thought F-Ranks would get a piece of cardboard with a number scribbled on it in crayon."
It took him another exhausting half hour to finally reach the massive dorm complex. By the time he stumbled through the entrance, he was a sweaty, completely disheveled mess.
He dragged himself to the front security gate. A bored guard was sitting in the small booth, staring blankly at a flickering monitor.
The guard's name tag literally just read: [Security Guard].
"Name?" the guard asked in a monotone voice without even looking up.
"Kaizen," he wheezed out.
"ID card."
Kaizen slapped his black card against the scanner.
BEEP.
The metal gate swung open automatically.
"Welcome to Zenith Dormitories," the guard droned like a robot reading a script. "Try not to die."
"Thanks. I'm really trying my best here."
Trying his best to walk without folding like wet noodles.
He walked into the main lobby. It was absolutely massive, filled with expensive plush sofas and crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
First-year students were flooding in from all directions, dragging suitcases and caged magical beasts behind them. Upperclassmen were leaning over the railings of the upper floors, watching the "fresh meat" arrive with predatory grins on their faces.
Kaizen kept his head down and made a direct beeline for the elevators.
He squeezed into a crowded lift with four other boys. They were all chatting excitedly about their ranks and newly awakened skills. Kaizen pressed himself firmly into the back corner, trying his absolute best to look like a coat rack.
DING.
Sixth floor.
He practically fell out of the elevator in his rush to escape.
"Wing L... where's Wing L..."
He followed the directional signs down a long, carpeted hallway. It was surprisingly quiet up here. Almost eerily quiet.
"610... 612... 614..."
He stopped walking.
At the very end of the hall, isolated from all the other rooms, was a heavy oak door.
[616]
Kaizen stared at the number engraved on the door. Then down at his key card.
[Name: Kaizen Renji Asahina]
[L Wing, Room 616]
"616," he whispered to himself. "Huh. That's kind of funny. Isn't that supposed to be the alternative Number of the Beast in some old texts? Like instead of 666?"
He let out a dry, nervous chuckle that died in his throat.
"Pretty strange number to get assigned. Almost like some kind of Demon King Candidate would deliberately choose this edgy roo—"
He didn't get to finish that sentence.
He didn't even get a chance to knock on the door.
CLICK.
The door swung open on its own.
Kaizen slowly looked up.
Standing in the doorway, wearing a pristine black silk shirt, holding a wine glass filled with what looked suspiciously like either expensive red wine or fresh blood, was a dark-haired boy with blood-red eyes.
Klaus Silver.
The Demon King Candidate.
Kaizen's key card slipped from his numb fingers and clattered to the floor.
He looked up at the ceiling with dead eyes.
'Take me. Please. Any UFO out there. Any alien species passing by Earth. Just beam me up right now. I'll let you probe me. I don't care anymore. Just get me out of here.'
Klaus Silver didn't move from his position. He stood perfectly still in the doorway, blocking the entrance like a final boss guarding the only save point in an entire dungeon.
His blood-red eyes narrowed slightly. A faint, invisible wave of demonic mana pulsed outward, washing over Kaizen from head to toe.
'Hmm... just Rank F-. Not even proper F Rank. Weaker than the weakest. Pathetic human.'
Klaus relaxed his shoulders by exactly one fraction of a millimeter.
'Excellent,' the Demon king candidate thought with satisfaction.
'A complete bottom-feeder. A harmless speck of dust. He will not possess the intelligence to question my nightly rituals, nor the power to interfere with my plans for conquest. The perfect roommate.'
Klaus stepped smoothly aside, sweeping his arm in a dramatic gesture that belonged in a royal throne room, definitely not in a college dorm.
"Enter, Human," he commanded. His voice was deep and echoing with completely unnecessary gravitas.
Kaizen froze mid-step.
'HUMAN?!'
Kaizen's internal scream was loud enough to shatter glass windows.
'Who calls their roommate "Human"?!'
'If you're trying to blend in with society, at least TRY to act like a normal person! That's like a dog walking up to another dog and saying, "Greetings, fellow Canine." Nobody talks like that!'
'You are literally the worst undercover spy in the entire history of espionage! You might as well wear a t-shirt that says "I LOVE HELL" in big letters!'
"Th-thanks," Kaizen squeaked out, deciding that correcting the Demon Lord's terrible acting skills was probably a quick way to get his head separated from his shoulders.
He shuffled past Klaus carefully after taking his card, holding his breath the entire time, and stepped into Room 616.
The room was surprisingly spacious, but it was split straight down the middle like a visual representation of Heaven versus Hell.
The left side, Kaizen's assigned side, was completely empty except for his luggage which had somehow been magically transported there already. It looked normal. Boring. Beige. Safe.
The right side, Klaus's side, looked like someone had taken Dracula's personal home office and shrunk it down to dorm size.
The heavy curtains were drawn shut tight, blocking out every single photon of natural sunlight. Black candles, probably scented like "Midnight Grave" or "Essence of Despair," flickered ominously on the bedside table.
But the real centerpiece was the desk.
It was completely covered in ancient leather-bound tomes that looked suspiciously like they'd been bound in human skin. Sheets of parchment were scattered everywhere, covered in jagged, violent-looking scribbles.
Kaizen's eyes landed on the paper Klaus had clearly been working on before answering the door.
It was a horrifyingly complex geometric circle filled with runes that physically hurt his eyes just from looking at them.
'That's a soul extraction circle, i am sure!!!!.'
Kaizen realized, his blood turning to actual ice in his veins. Though it was plain bullshit.
'He's not doing homework. He's literally calculating the exact geometry required to rip my soul out through my nose while I'm sleeping.'
Klaus walked silently past him, his movements impossibly fluid and quiet, like a shadow detaching itself from the wall. He sat back down at his demonic desk, picked up a quill that appeared to be made from a crow's feather, and continued scratching away at the parchment.
Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.
The sound was agonizingly loud in the heavy silence.
Kaizen stood frozen by his bed, genuinely afraid to breathe too loudly. He started unpacking his single bag very, very slowly.
'Just put the shirt in the drawer. Don't look at the demon. Put the socks away carefully. Don't look at the demon. Oh god, he just stopped writing.'
Klaus had indeed stopped. He slowly turned his chair around to face Kaizen.