The wood and glass door of the office clicked shut behind Evan, sealing away the flashy presence of Jia Gao.

Standing in the stone corridor, Evan adjusted his wolf-skin cloak, his face an unreadable mask as he processed the interaction.

’Room Thirteen,’ he recalled, the direct order from the Second Head echoing in his mind.

Jia Gao had given him the brass key along with a smooth, arrogant piece of advice about his future roommates.

He was to live with two outer disciples, Ghost and Peaker, whose real names were Jon and Ron respectively.

Evan navigated the obsidian paved walkways of the First Court, passing the central meeting hall and the grand statue of the God of Nature before entering the men’s residential wing.

He found the heavy oak door with the number thirteen etched into a brass plate and turned the key.

The door swung open, and Evan stepped inside, pausing to take in his new quarters.

The room was nice and really pretty.

It was a thousand times better than the drafty, cramped room he had endured back at the academy, and a million times better than the pathetic, suffocating room he had owned during his life on Earth.

The space was surprisingly large, anchored by a solid wood almirah against the far wall and a sturdy round table surrounded by four chairs in the center.

To the left, an open door revealed the clean tile of an attached bathroom.

The beds themselves were arranged in a wide U-shape, one pressed against the left wall, one sitting at the bottom base of the room, and the third lining the right wall. Each bed was equipped with a neat wooden side table featuring two distinct cabinets.

There were only three beds in the room.

Jia Gao had mentioned that the fourth bed had been badly broken during a chaotic brawl and was currently sent to the carpentry halls to be fixed.

The fourth roommate who owned it had recently been deployed on a massive, high risk five year mission outside of the sect, leaving the space empty.

Evan’s eyes naturally drifted to the walls beside the beds to gauge his new companions, and what he saw made him freeze.

The wall beside the left bed was completely covered in pictures. They were sketches and high grade paintings of women to be precise, bikini women.

Their breasts half naked and spilling over flimsy fabric, their panties dangerously tight against their bodies, accentuating every curve.

Evan stood there for a literal three seconds, a sudden, violent sensation kicking hard against the lining of his stomach as his entire body went completely cold.

’What a pervert.’

’Peaker,’ Evan thought, his jaw tightening as the cold sweat receded. He now understood with absolute, crystal clarity why the man was given that nickname.

He turned his gaze toward the bottom bed at the base of the U shape. The wall here was entirely different.

Painted with meticulous care was the grand sigil of the Vampire Sect, a terrifying, shadowy black bat set against a deep crimson background. Above the crest, written in large, smokey-white calligraphy, was a single word, GHOST.

Evan frowned slightly.

He understood Peaker’s name, but he didn’t quite understand why Jon was called Ghost.

The massive sect sigil and the dramatic writing made Ghost feel like a deeply passionate, dedicated cultivator, someone fiercely loyal to the sect, though Evan had yet to meet him.

That left the third bed on the right side of the room. Its sidewall was completely bare, stripped of any personality or paint. This was his bed.

The three beds were positioned perfectly to face each other, but Evan was glad his bare wall offered a clean, unblemished boundary against the chaotic madness of the other two sides.

Evan walked over to the empty bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. It didn’t creak.

Closing his eyes, he reached deep into his silver aperture, bypassing the swirling vortex of his liquid crimson Qi. From the depths of his aperture, he willed a specific, basic blood worm to manifest.

A faint light flashed in his palm.

Sitting on his leather glove was a small, pale worm that looked exactly like a common ant, though it was roughly the size of a little finger.

It was a one-time-use storage path blood worm, a cheap but reliable tool for traveling and storing things.

Without a hint of hesitation, Evan placed the ant-like worm between his index finger and thumb and pinched down hard.

Crack.

The worm burst into a small pop of localized spatial energy.

Instantly, a heavy canvas travel bag materialized out of thin air, dropping with a dull thud onto the wooden floorboards.

Evan knelt beside the bag, unzipping the coarse fabric to unpack his possessions.

He pulled out three immaculate sets of robes, one a stark silver, one a muted grey, and one a deep, midnight black.

Next came his basic hygiene supplies, a straight razor and a bar of lye soap.

Walking over to his side table, he opened the top cabinet and arranged the robes, razor, and soap into neat, disciplined stacks.

From the bottom of the bag, his fingers wrapped around the cool glass necks of three bottles of expensive, refined wine he had kept hidden.

He pulled them out, opened the bottom cabinet of the side table, and placed the bottles securely inside, ensuring they wouldn’t roll or clink together.

With his unpacking finished, Evan closed the cabinets.

He stood up straight, brushing off his wolf-skin cloak as he faced the blank right wall, already calculating how he would reinforce his own space against his roommates habits.

Click.

The heavy oak door suddenly unlocked behind him. The latch gave way, and two men stepped together into the quiet of Room thirteen.

Evan remained perfectly still, his hand hovering near his waist as his eyes tracked their shadows stretching across the floor, his voice subtly humming to welcome his new roommates.