The alarm sliced through the quiet apartment like a dull knife.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Sophia groaned, the sound half-buried in her pillow. Soft morning light slipped between the half-drawn curtains, painting faint golden stripes across the rumpled white sheets and the cool wooden floorboards. She pushed herself up on one elbow, dark hair tumbling in messy waves over her shoulder, and squinted at the lump beside her.
"Daniel… wake up," she murmured, voice still thick with sleep. She tugged at the blanket, revealing a sliver of his bare back—warm skin dusted with faint freckles she'd traced a hundred times.
He only curled tighter, a low mumble vibrating through the mattress. "Five more minutes…"
Sophia sighed, the sound caught somewhere between amusement and resignation. She started to swing her legs out of bed—
A hand darted from under the covers and closed around her wrist, firm but gentle. Before she could protest, Daniel yanked her back down in one smooth pull.
"Hey!" she yelped, tumbling onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs and blankets.
He said nothing. Strong arms circled her waist from behind, drawing her flush against his chest. His breath was hot against the curve of her neck, carrying the faint mint of last night's toothpaste. His chin settled on her shoulder, stubble scraping deliciously against her skin and sending a shiver racing down her spine.
Sophia's ears flushed hot as he playfully nipped at her earlobe—then soothed the sting with a slow, deliberate lick.
"Daniel…" Her protest came out breathier than intended.
With a gentle twist he rolled her to face him. One hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin beneath her eye; the other slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head while his fingers tightened just enough to tilt her face up. Their faces hovered inches apart—his dark eyes half-lidded and hungry now, hers wide with surprise and the slow-building ache she could never quite hide.
He leaned in, lips brushing hers in a feather-light tease.
She pressed her palm flat between their mouths, smirking despite the heat pooling low in her belly.
"At least brush your teeth before going full romantic hero," she said, voice low and teasing.
A beat of silence.
Then laughter erupted—his low and rumbling against her chest, hers bright and bubbling—until the blankets cocooned them again. But the laughter faded fast when his hand slipped under the hem of her sleep shirt, palm gliding warm and possessive up the curve of her waist, thumb stroking the sensitive skin just under her breast.
Sophia's breath hitched.
"Five more minutes?" he murmured against her lips, voice rough with sleep and want.
She bit her lip, then pulled him down into a real kiss—slow, deep, tongues brushing in lazy heat.
A few minutes later, Sophia padded into the kitchen, barefoot on the cool tiles, cheeks still flushed and lips tingling. The faint scent of yesterday's coffee lingered, mingling with the clean smell of dawn coming through the cracked window.
Daniel dragged himself to the bathroom, muscles still loose from sleep—and now from the lingering taste of her on his tongue. He flicked on the light and met his own reflection—sharp jaw, dark hair tousled, eyes carrying too much knowledge and too much desire for someone who looked twenty-eight.
Two years.
Two years since the screech of tires, the blinding flash, and waking up in this body that wasn't originally his.
He picked up the toothbrush, squeezing mint paste onto the bristles, and stared harder.
In this world, dungeons had ripped open across the globe like wounds in reality. With them came the System—cold, impartial, granting classes and abilities to the Awakened. He'd drawn Arcane Archer: rare, elegant, deadly. Using every scrap of foreknowledge from the novel he'd been reading in his old life, he'd climbed fast—now one of the top five in Lunar Guild.
A respected name.
A comfortable apartment smelling faintly of Sophia's lavender shampoo and fresh bread.
A life that felt almost too good—especially when she was in it.
But he knew the truth nobody else did.
This peace was borrowed time.
The real story hadn't started yet.
The dungeon arcs.
The chaos.
The war between heroes and the awakened criminals who fed on monster essence like drug lords.
And at the center of it all—
The protagonist.
Daniel rinsed his mouth, the cold water shocking against his teeth. He splashed his face, droplets clinging to his lashes.
Even though he'd never finished the novel, one thing was crystal clear: when that monster finally appeared, everything would burn.
If I don't find him first… the world collapses the way the book said it would.
He stared into the mirror, water dripping from his chin.
I need to find him.
That crazy bastard.
Hot water poured from the rainfall showerhead, steam curling thick and fragrant with eucalyptus body wash. Daniel tipped his head back, letting the heat pound against knotted shoulders, washing away the restless thoughts that had kept him half-awake.
Then he called out, voice echoing off the white tiles. "Sophia! Forgot my robe. Can you bring it?"
A dramatic sigh floated from the hallway.
The door cracked open. Sophia appeared in the misty doorway, robe draped over one arm, eyebrows arched. "You're unbelievable sometimes."
She stepped forward to hand it over—
Daniel's hand closed around her wrist and tugged her inside. The door clicked shut.
"Daniel!"
He pressed her gently back against the cool tile wall. Water soaked through her thin sleep shirt in seconds, turning the fabric nearly transparent and clinging to every curve—nipples pebbling against the wet cotton from the sudden contrast of heat and chill. Steam wrapped around them like smoke; droplets beaded on her lashes and traced slow, teasing paths down his jaw and chest.
She looked up at him—water-darkened hair framing her face, eyes steady and dark with the same hunger he felt coiling in his gut.
"So…" she murmured, voice soft beneath the steady drum of water, lips parted, "are you just going to stare at me?"
He chuckled, low and rough. Arms slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him—wet fabric sticking, her soft breasts pressing into his chest, heartbeats thudding wildly against each other. He kissed her slowly at first, lips soft and tasting of rain and morning, then deeper, hungrier—tongue sliding against hers in a slow, wet glide that made her moan softly into his mouth.
Her hands roamed up his back, nails dragging lightly down his spine, sending sparks straight to his groin.
She pinched his cheek mid-kiss, breaking away just enough to gasp. "Stop—my clothes—"
"Oh," he smirked against her throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, "I know a simple solution for that."
His hands slid under her soaked shirt, palms gliding up her ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts before cupping them fully—warm, heavy, perfect. Sophia arched into the touch with a shaky breath, head tipping back against the tile.
Her eyes narrowed, playful accusation flashing even through the haze of want. "Pervert. This was your plan all along?"
He only grinned wider, fingers hooking the hem of her shirt and peeling it slowly upward—exposing inch after inch of flushed, water-slick skin. He tossed the shirt aside; it landed with a wet slap on the floor.
"Guilty," he murmured, voice gravelly as he lowered his head to kiss the swell of her breast, tongue flicking over a taut nipple.
Sophia's fingers threaded into his wet hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan.
Their laughter turned to gasps and moans, swallowed by steam and the relentless patter of water as hands explored, bodies pressed tighter, and the world outside the shower faded to nothing but heat and need.
Later that day, Lunar Guild Headquarters buzzed with controlled chaos. Boots thudded across polished marble floors; holographic dungeon maps flickered in blues and reds above the reception counters; the faint metallic tang of residual mana hung in the air like ozone after a storm.
As soon as Daniel and Sophia stepped through the sliding glass doors, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Well well… aren't you two awfully late today?"
Jasmine leaned against the counter, arms crossed, teasing smile sharp as a blade.
"Morning, Jas," Sophia said, cheeks already warming.
Jasmine squinted at them both, then smirked wider. "Ahhh… look at you two lovebirds blushing."
Sophia's face went scarlet. "It's not what you think!"
Daniel laughed, easy and warm. "Hey Jas, stop teasing her."
Jasmine giggled. "Anyway, Daniel—the guild leader and First Squad Captain were asking for you earlier."
Daniel nodded. "Got it. I'll head there now."
He waved lightly at Sophia. "Look after her for me."
Sophia pouted. "Hey! I'm not a kid."
Jasmine slung an arm around her shoulder. "Come on, let's go inside."
Daniel pushed open the heavy office door. The room smelled of old leather, polished wood, and the faint bitterness of black coffee.
Guild Leader Cedric sat behind his desk, broad shoulders filling the chair. First Squad Captain Sara stood near the window, arms folded, ice-blue eyes flicking toward him.
Daniel closed the door with a soft click.
Sara tilted her head. "You're sure you want to go, Daniel? This mission could turn ugly."
He shrugged, casual. "I'll manage, Captain. Don't worry."
Cedric stood. "We're heading to the Hero Association now. Chairman Sebastian is waiting."
Daniel nodded once.
Soon the two men stepped into the towering glass-and-steel headquarters of the Hero Association. The chairman's office felt heavier than it should—dark wood panels drinking the light, air thick with the scent of aged leather and faint cigar smoke. Authority pressed against the skin like a physical weight.
Chairman Sebastian Crowe sat behind the massive desk, gray eyes sharp enough to cut steel.
Daniel kept his expression neutral, though his pulse kicked up.
He really does have the same intimidating presence the novel described.
Sebastian glanced at the documents, then at Daniel. "Is he the one?"
"Yes," Cedric answered.
Sebastian tossed a slim file across the desk. Three photos slid out.
Andrew. James. Victor.
"Awakened criminals distributing illegal enhancers made from dungeon monster materials."
He listed their classes calmly: Titan, Pyromancer, Beastkin.
"You'll act as the buyer," Sebastian said. "They'll contact you with the meeting location soon."
Daniel nodded.
"Do not act recklessly," the chairman added. "Prioritize survival if it goes sideways."
Then, quieter "Twelve will handle the rest."
Cedric frowned. "Twelve? You're sending the lowest rank of the squad?"
Sebastian sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You probably don't know. It's classified."
Daniel's eyes lit up.
Ah… here it comes.
Sebastian leaned back. "That jerk liked the nickname Twelve, so I had no choice but to rank the squad from twelve to one."
A faint, dangerous smile touched the chairman's lips.
"But make no mistake.
He's the strongest hunter we have."
A chill raced down Daniel's spine—goosebumps prickling under his sleeves.
Even now that line hits hard.
He couldn't hide the spark of excitement. "Is he here?"
Sebastian's smile faded. "No. He's probably out causing trouble somewhere."
Later, in the hallway, Cedric clapped a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Good luck."
Daniel smiled. "Thanks."
That night, Daniel lay on his back staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazy circles. Streetlight filtered through the blinds, striping the walls in silver and shadow.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow he'd meet him.
The hunter called Twelve.
If things went right, maybe he could even convince the chairman to transfer him to Lunar Guild instead of Lions.
He stretched a hand toward the ceiling, fingers splayed.
"I wish the author had made a comic version," he muttered. "Then I'd at least know what he looks like."
A soft hand slipped into his.
Sophia sat on the edge of the bed, then eased down beside him, head resting on his chest. Her fingers intertwined with his; he could feel the steady rhythm of her breathing, the warmth of her body seeping through his shirt.
"Promise me something," she whispered.
Daniel looked down at her—dark hair fanned across his chest, eyes soft in the dim light.
"Promise me you won't do anything dangerous tomorrow."
He rolled gently, putting himself above her. One hand brushed her hair back from her face, thumb tracing the curve of her cheek.
"I promise."
He leaned down and kissed her softly—slow, lingering. His hand slid beneath the hem of her shirt, palm warm against the smooth skin of her waist.
The apartment lights stayed on long into the night.