Sharp pain woke me up the next day. Lightheaded, my vision spinning, I groaned and blinked a few times.

  A steel collar held my throat, cold and merciless, and I realized what this was about. “You cannot be serious.”

  Isabella sported a laugh from somewhere to the side of me. “Just because you got drunk last night, it doesn’t mean you are skipping the daily routine. Time for the morning run.”

  “You will end up in Hell for this.” I started sliding off the bed, careful to not make any sudden moves. My head pounded from unprocessed alcohol, and my body ached as if I had been run over by a train.

  Well, I sort of did.

  Since I couldn’t face Isabella last night, not after what she had made me do, I drank alone.

  She let me, to my surprise, but it felt even worse. So, I summoned Shadow to train with while I drank.

  I straightened and realized I was already changed into the running clothes. The damn witch changed me while I slept without waking me up, a not-so-gentle reminder that she could do to me anything she wanted to.

  Isabella stood leaning against the wall, observing me with a disappointed expression.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I was looking forward to getting you out of bed using the shock collar. You were supposed to be groaning, screaming, swearing, and resisting. This compliance of yours is a total buzzkill.”

  A broad smirk crawled up onto my face. All her theatrics were for her amusement, so if I didn’t play into them, she got nothing.

  I walked past her to the elevator and went for a run. This time, I ran to the park so quickly that I did a second round.

  It wasn’t that I ran faster, but I simply wasn’t getting tired. Not at all, actually.

  The run was only clearing out my hangover.

  I found myself bored, so I pulled up the skill tree and the stat perks to study them a bit more.

  I didn’t like any class though.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  Somehow, I was wishing for something to catch my eye. But the only thing I got was more questions. The one skill that looked good was the level twenty system intervention skill.

  That was a no-brainer.

  What level was I, anyway?

  Twelve.

  Hmm. I must have leveled up last night when sparring with Shadow. Didn’t even notice.

  So, I had eleven unassigned skill points, fifty points in endurance, and ten unassigned stat points.

  I returned to Isabella’s mid-rise again and took the elevator to the pool floor.

  After the bath, the elevator took me automatically to the top floor.

  Isabella awaited me in my room, sitting on my table, again. “I got you a new suit.” She motioned with her shoe at the box underneath the table.

  More theatrics.

  I picked up the box and opened it. Inside awaited a special suit. Still in business casual style, but thick, heavy, made of three layers. Two from cloth, one something quick in between.

  The shirt was made in the same style as the boxers and socks.

  The box also contained a hood to cover the head with a hole for the face, and a dark metal helmet with a thick visor.

  “Anti-radiation outfit,” Isabella said. “You’re diving into the portal today.”

  I started changing into the new clothes. They hugged me tight, but didn’t restrict my movement. The clothes weighed quite a bit, so I couldn’t move without effort.

  Well, I could put some points into strength to help myself with it.

  Then again, that would be a great way to completely brick my build. The worst stats were clearly endurance and strength.

  With so many points wasted on endurance, the last thing I needed was to end up with strength to go with it.

  Sure, if it were the Middle Ages, strength and endurance would have been the perfect build. But I was about four hundred years away from that age.

  And even then, magic-focused builds would have been better, anyway. Being able to swing an axe really hard was great, but not nearly as powerful as being able to blow up a castle with a fire tornado.

  I finished dressing up, and we got into the elevator with Isabella.

  On the way down, Isabella whipped out a tie from her jacket’s pocket, lassoed my throat with it, and pulled me to her to arrange it.

  The scent of citrus filled my nose as she leaned against me.

  Funny.

  She looked kind of pretty now. Young, skinny, in a shape that made her look as if carved from bronze. And she really knew how to move with her fingers as she tightened my tie.

  With the precision of an endgame dexterity build, Isabella drove her knee into my crotch.

  My vision blacked out for a split second, I screamed out in pain, and buckled down to my knees.

  “You’re getting overly excited.” Isabella spun on her heel and walked out of the elevator. “Move.”

  I gritted my teeth, face blood red, and followed her into the car.

  This time, she picked the black Audi.

  I crashed on the seat next to her, and we drove out. Pain still pooled in my abdomen. She hit me way too hard. I didn’t dare to say a word though, because any complaints would earn me more punishment.

  Isabella drove like mad, again, but I had gotten used to it.

  We swerved through the street and approached a traffic jam.

  Isabella spun the wheel, and we blasted into a side street. Even she had to slow down here to avoid hitting anything.

  We rode through the side streets and got to a long street between depots.

  A person landed on the street in front of us. A long coat, ginger hair, a claymore in hand… Mom?