It was a tale of two nights.
On the top floor of the inn, Jax stepped into his suite—
and immediately stopped walking.
"…Oh."
The room was enormous.
Soft carpet stretched wall to wall while embroidered fabric draped elegantly across polished wooden walls. A massive bed dominated the center of the suite beneath layers of blankets and pillows so absurdly soft they looked engineered by sleep enthusiasts.
A silver tray rested nearby.
Fresh fruit.
Clean towels.
Soap.
Even a toothbrush.
Jax blinked.
"…Okay," he admitted quietly.
"This is significantly fancier than expected."
He pressed a hand experimentally against the mattress.
The bed practically consumed his arm.
Jax laughed immediately.
"No wonder rich people are always smug."
He wandered slowly through the suite, taking everything in.
Private bath.
Balcony.
Candles.
A fireplace.
Honestly?
This place would've cost a fortune back home.
Eventually he stepped outside onto the balcony and leaned quietly against the railing.
Solmere stretched beneath him.
Lanterns flickered warmly across crooked roads and aging rooftops while distant conversations drifted softly through the night air.
The town was poor.
That much was obvious.
Buildings sagged beneath years of neglect.
Repairs had been delayed too long.
Infrastructure barely held together.
And yet—
people still laughed.
Shops still opened.
Life still moved.
Jax rested his arms against the railing thoughtfully.
There's potential here.
He could feel it.
Not just resources.
People.
Drive.
Possibility.
The breeze cooled his face gently.
For the first time since arriving in this world, his thoughts finally slowed.
No dragons.
No running.
No chaos.
Just quiet.
Jax returned inside a few minutes later, climbed into the massive bed—
and vanished beneath approximately six thousand pounds of blankets.
"…Perfect."
Sleep claimed him almost instantly.
The system quietly filtered the remaining alcohol from his body while he slept.
His breathing steadied.
His muscles relaxed.
His mind cleared.
And for the first time in a long time—
Jax rested peacefully.
Across the inn—
on the second floor—
the Vixens experienced a very different evening.
Chaos.
Complete chaos.
Four women.
One tiny bed.
One suspiciously thin blanket.
And a wall that made clanking noises every forty seconds like it was slowly losing a fight against existence itself.
Bunny tugged the blanket toward herself.
Nyxian immediately pulled it back.
"That's MY side."
"We do not HAVE sides!"
"We absolutely have sides!"
Zee attempted to curl herself into the smallest possible shape near the edge of the mattress.
Llandra sat silently with both hands covering her face.
The generator room next door roared violently.
Metal clanged.
Pipes rattled.
Something hissed ominously inside the walls.
Nyxian stared toward the ceiling.
"If this building explodes, I'm haunting the innkeeper personally."
"At least it's warm?" Bunny offered hopefully.
Llandra's muffled voice emerged from beneath a pillow.
"Someone's foot is touching my face."
Nyxian looked down.
"…That might be mine."
"That does not improve the situation."
The blanket migrated again.
Bunny somehow rotated sideways in her sleep.
Zee nearly fell off the bed twice.
Nyxian threatened violence three separate times.
Outside, Solmere slowly drifted into peaceful silence.
Inside the Vixens' room—
war continued.
At some point during the night, Zee finally managed to fall asleep peacefully against Bunny's shoulder.
At some point Bunny started snoring softly.
At some point Nyxian muttered threats toward the generator room.
And at some point—
Llandra found herself staring quietly at the ceiling.
Thinking.
About a strange human who punched dragons to death.
Who negotiated with merchants like nobility.
Who treated artisans with genuine respect.
Who gave away four hundred thousand gold without hesitation.
Her expression softened slightly despite herself.
Then Nyxian rolled over and kicked her directly in the ribs.
Llandra considered murder briefly.
Morning arrived.
Sunlight filtered warmly through the curtains of Jax's suite.
Jax slowly blinked awake beneath layers of blankets.
Comfortable.
Rested.
Clear-headed.
The system had already purged every trace of alcohol from his body.
He stretched lazily.
"That," he announced to the empty room, "was incredible."
Across the hall—
the Vixens awakened inside a tangled pile of blankets, limbs, hair, regret, and lingering emotional damage.
Bunny groaned dramatically.
Nyxian shielded her eyes from the light like a dying vampire.
Zee sat perfectly still processing reality itself.
Llandra opened one eye.
Nyxian's foot was still touching her face.
She slowly closed her eye again.
"It is," she whispered to herself, "a deeply unfair world."
And yet—
despite the terrible sleep…
despite the cramped room…
despite the noise…
none of them regretted the night.
Outside, Solmere was already waking.
Shops opening.
People moving.
Opportunity waiting.
And somewhere beneath all of it—
change had already begun.