Lilith's room looked like the inside of a dream—if the dream was curated by rich designers with god-tier lighting taste and unlimited credit cards.
Soft beige lights glowed from the corners, warm and just slightly seductive. The wall behind the bed was some kind of art installation—a giant image of a woman's face, half hidden behind blooming butterflies. The bed was oversized, unfairly soft-looking, layered with plush throws and rugs that screamed touch me. Sculptural lights hung from the ceiling like frozen lightning.
Peter was leaning on her doorframe, arms folded, still a little blown away.
"Okay. This room is... insane. You're literally sleeping in a Pinterest board."
Lilith shrugged, fluffing a pillow like it didn't cost more than his old rent. "At least one of us has taste."
Peter scoffed. "Please. My room's so empty—like expensively so, it feels like a storage unit for emotions."
His own room?
Clinical perfection.
Every surface was glass, white, or glowing faintly like it came with a built-in ego. The bed was so big it looked illegal. The floor had light strips that followed your steps, the kind of thing you'd expect in a spaceship—not a bedroom.
"Too clean," Peter muttered, stepping barefoot across it earlier. "I feel like I'm gonna be fined for existing."
Still, they both knew—this whole penthouse was next level. They hadn't said much when they left the house, but neither of them could stand to stay in that suffocating space—not with their uncle and his family breathing in their air like he paid for it.
So they moved here.
It wasn't even hard. Lilith made a call, dropped the Kang name, and boom—their suite lit up like a golden ticket.
Peter had passed through his own room—massive, minimalistic, cold. But it was the living room that really hit different. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed all of Seoul, glowing and alive in this dark morning. A grand piano sat untouched in the corner, the black polished surface practically humming with elegance. In the center was the couch—the couch. Big enough to host a whole therapy group session and still have room for trauma.
One long walk led past the island kitchen—high stools, wine glasses, fridge that looked like it needed a password to open.
Then—
The balcony.
He stepped out.
Lilith was already there, leaning on the glass railing like she belonged in a movie poster. Her hair was down now, arms crossed, city lights reflected in her eyes. The sky above Seoul was ink-blue, sprinkled with retreating stars.
Below, cars streamed like arteries. And directly ahead?
Namsam Tower rominated the skyline. It glowed like a ritual candle, soft red lights pulsing steadily from the top. One of those pulses caught Peter right in the eyes.
For a second, he just stood there, stunned by it all, Lilith caught his hand and led him to the rooftop. Marble tiles underfoot. Wide, white couches hugging a square gas fire that crackled softly. Potted trees stood like guardians. No wind. No noise. Just sky.
The horizon stretched soft and endless. Seoul in all its golden-hour glory.
Lilith had tucked her legs up, hugging a pillow to her chest.
Peter sat across from her, leaning back, head tilted, hands behind him. They'd barely said a word since getting out here.
It was peaceful. Too peaceful.
"Still nothing?" Lilith asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.
Peter sighed, eyes on the sunset. "Still nothing. No guide. No cheat screen. No welcome package. This reincarnation's got the customer service of a dead app."
"Maybe you're just not the chosen one," she teased.
"Rude." She smiled into her pillow as they laughed.
Peter exhaled again and looked toward the skyline. Namsam Tower still glowed in the distance—but now it felt like background.
His eyes drifted down, catching the movement of the red fire pit.
That's when...
[Ding!]
A single chime—sharp, digital, echoing from somewhere that wasn't quite sound.
Peter stiffened.
A glowing interface blinked into existence right in front of him, projected in the air like some next-gen hallucination. Bright, clean UI. Minimalist. Kinda sexy, actually.
Lilith?
Still lost in the cityscape. No screen. No reaction. Just awe of the city.
"Of course," Peter whispered.
He looked at her again. Her face relaxed, almost peaceful like she was finally home. Originally, the Lilith from Brooklyn was born here, after all. Seoul looked right on her. She belonged. Her parents had left Korea before they died—but she'd never stopped being Korean. This wasn't foreign to her. This wasn't strange.
It was home.
And Peter?
Well, he'd just been handed a fucking system. It didn't even sound like sound. It was deeper. Personal. A heartbeat laced with code. Like something clicked in the soul.
Peter blinked.
"Wait—what?" Floating in front of him—crisp, glowing, like augmented reality—but only for him the name though surprised him:
[TRAVERSE TRADE SYSTEM: Activated
Welcome, Trader: Peter Kang
Initializing: World Slots — 3/10 Unlocked
TAL: 1 | SVS Balance: 0
Inventory Space: 0/50 Items!]
His breath caught.
He looked across at Lilith.
Still normal. Still hugging her pillow. Still gazing at the fire like it held answers. No glow. No notification. No golden light from the sky.
Just him.
"Of course," he thought, stunned.
He had a system.
Finally.
Golden finger secured.