…Interdimensional travel always has side effects…
One day earlier, Gantsuke had arrived on this planet and promptly crashed for a marathon sleep in a beachfront bungalow labeled, quite charmingly, "Traveler's Paradise."
A few beers, three painkillers, and a warm blanket—that was his antidote to the time-lag, gravity shock, and sensory overload of Ether.
Knock knock knock.
A sharp rapping on the door tugged his eyes open.
"Sorry to disturb you," came a woman's voice from the other side.
Probably the hotel manager, he guessed. He remembered the voice. She'd made quite an impression back when she was talking to the receptionist.
"I thought you might be dead in there."
The voice was closer now—near the foot of the bed.
He forced his eyes open, blinking.
"I just overslept. Dimensional hangover, you know?" he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat up, clad only in tight black briefs.
"How long was I out?" he asked, squinting against the light, trying to focus on the silhouette standing in front of him.
"Another two hours and you'll hit the 48-hour mark," she said casually."The maid who brought your food said your room was unusually quiet. I figured I should check."
"Wouldn't want you rotting in here. Cleaning up a corpse is such a pain."
"Thanks for the concern," he said, his voice warming. "What's your name?"
Her full figure came into focus—a petite Chinese woman in a tight, fiery red dress. Slim waist, full chest, and a face straight out of a Han dynasty painting. Healthy, strong—like someone who worked out often.
"I'm Linji. Just call me Lin. I'm the manager.If you want a proper meal, drag your ass down to the dining hall."
She glanced at the takeout tray by the door—half-eaten noodles, soup gone cold, and a black fly crawling on a chunk of meat. It reminded her of that dead tourist in room 204 last month. Another overdose.
"I will," Gantsuke said, swinging his legs off the bed.
His right leg hit the floor with a metallic thud. A high-tech cybernetic limb glinted faintly in the light. Even though it was balanced to match his other leg, it always felt heavier.
Linji frowned in mild surprise.
"Occupational hazard," he said, catching her glance. "One of the reasons I ended up here."
"Clients like you don't come around often," she said.
"Most of our guests are teens. Party kids. A few of them OD, which is why we keep master keys for all the rooms."
"Hope you don't mind me barging in."
"Not at all. I get it," Gantsuke replied, stretching.
His shoulders and chest flexed with muscle, forged from years of combat and discipline.
"It's three-thirty," Linji added, swallowing hard.She hadn't seen a shirtless man up close in… way too long.
"The kitchen closes at four. After that, you'll have to pay extra for late-night service."
"Can I buy you dinner?" he asked, flashing a sincere smile.He wasn't movie-star handsome, but when he smiled with intent—it landed.
"You're funny," she said with a smirk.
"You're the first man on this planet who's asked me out."
"After just one look in your eyes, I fell for you," he said, locking eyes with her.
"Smooth talker," she teased, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed interest.
"If not for love, maybe I'd make a good one-night companion."
She smiled at the edge of her lips. "You're not just a flirt—you're full of yourself, too."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"There's a new bar down by the beach," she said casually. "Right near Normington Hospital."
"I'll be there at ten. Don't be late."
With that, she turned and walked out.
Gantsuke's eyes followed the sway of her hips.
No one back home would miss him. No one left for him to miss.His mother had died when he was 25—the same year he lost his job and signed up as a mercenary for a corporate agricultural firm in a third-world colony.
He married soon after. The marriage lasted less than a year.And that same year, his father died of lung cancer.
For five years, Gantsuke served as a security team leader guarding farmland from rebel factions.His last operation—fighting an anti-corporate militia funded by offworlders—ended with a rocket blowing his leg off.
The payout came in. Enough to quit. Enough to relocate.
Ether was supposed to be a new beginning.
Instead, the man with the metal leg had already managed to get himself arrested.
And his new life hadn't even started yet.