Chapter 16: Ten Levels Ahead
Maybe—just maybe—Xavier should have asked what level Serena actually was.
The thought barely finished forming before Serena moved.
She vanished.
Not figuratively. Not dramatically.
She simply wasn't there anymore.
Xavier's instincts screamed danger, but his body didn't have time to react. Before he could activate Engine Sync, before he could even brace himself—
Boom.
Serena's fist slammed into his stomach.
All the air rushed out of Xavier's lungs at once. His vision went white as his feet left the ground, and he crashed to his knees, then face-first onto the concrete.
Pain exploded through his core.
"Guh—!"
He gagged, coughing, his body curling instinctively as nausea threatened to overwhelm him.
"Shit…" Xavier wheezed. "Serena—what the hell—are you always that fast?!"
Serena stood a few steps away, hands behind her back, looking down at him with mild curiosity rather than concern.
"Oh," she said casually. "I forgot to mention."
Xavier groaned and tried to push himself up.
"Mention… what…?"
"Whatever level you're at," Serena continued, tilting her head slightly, "I'm always ten levels ahead."
Xavier froze.
"…What?"
She smiled.
"So."
His eye twitched.
"That's not fair!" Xavier snapped, rolling onto his back. "I worked my ass off to reach level eight!"
Serena shrugged. "Did you?"
Xavier stared at the sky.
"…Doesn't that mean," he muttered slowly, "you could've beaten the skeleton by yourself?"
Before Serena could answer—
Ring. Ring. Ring.
The company phone rang.
Serena glanced toward the building. "We'll talk later. Phone's ringing."
She turned and walked away as if she hadn't just folded him in half.
Xavier lay there, staring at the clouds.
"…The devilish woman who loves spending money is stronger than me," he muttered darkly. "Fuck."
The days that followed were brutal.
Training with Serena wasn't sparring.
It was execution—with lessons attached.
No matter what Xavier tried—Speed builds, Strength bursts, Wisdom reallocations—he lost. Every. Single. Time.
Sometimes in seconds.
Sometimes slower, which somehow felt worse.
"So let me get this straight," Xavier said one evening, lying sprawled on the floor, staring at the ceiling. "Not only are you always ten levels ahead…"
"Yes."
"…but you also get all my skills?"
"Yes."
"…and you can use them better than me?"
"Yes."
Xavier slowly sat up.
"How is that fair?"
Serena looked at him calmly. "Life isn't fair."
She stepped closer, looking down at him.
"And if you ever want to do anything other than sleep in the same bed as me," she added sweetly, "you'll have to beat me."
Xavier stared.
"…You're blackmailing me with my own pride."
"Yes."
Before he could respond—
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Elsewhere.
A man stood in the shadows of a nearby building, phone pressed to his ear, eyes fixed on Magical Delivery LLC.
"Yes, sir," he said quietly. "I gathered the information."
A pause.
"There's no immediate threat. You can withdraw for now."
Another pause.
"…Are you sure?" the man asked. "I could stay another couple of days."
Silence answered him.
When no reply came, he lowered the phone.
"…Understood."
He slipped the device into his pocket, still watching.
The two inside were laughing now—playing cards, arguing over rules, relaxed.
And yet…
Something about them felt wrong.
Too natural.
Too unafraid.
He turned and disappeared into the city.
The Magic Bureau of Dungeons was quiet at night.
Silas sat across from the counter, hands folded, exhaustion etched into his face as he finished recounting the events.
"…So when we were in the dungeon," he said, "I used the Guild Leader's phone to call Magical Delivery LLC. A man and a woman arrived. Delivered food. Saved us."
The clerk nodded, typing steadily.
"And you're only filing this report now?" she asked.
Silas hesitated. "The Guild Leader didn't want to turn them in. He thought… maybe they weren't registered here."
The clerk paused for half a second, then resumed typing.
"I see."
Silas reached into his pocket and placed a black card on the counter.
"Can you take this?" he asked. "Then we're done."
The clerk picked up the card.
Magical Delivery LLC.
Silas stood and left without another word.
When the doors closed behind him, the clerk leaned back in her chair and sighed.
"…Great," she muttered.
She looked at the card once more, then slid it into a report folder.
"It's late," she said to herself. "I'll report this to my boss tomorrow."
She turned off her screen.
And somewhere in the city, Magical Delivery LLC kept operating—unaware that their name had finally entered official records.