Lucifer looked at the system and chuckled softly, a low sound that seemed to echo in the stillness of his room.
His gaze shifted to his wrist, where a pale blue bracelet lay gently against his skin. For a brief moment, his usually cold eyes softened as he stared at it, lost in a memory that only he understood.
He let the warmth linger for just a second before his expression returned to its usual detached calm. Reaching over, he grabbed the shabby stuffed panda, its worn fabric a stark contrast to his pristine surroundings, and with it in hand, he left his room.
System, who was being gripped firmly by the neck, didn't dare struggle or show resistance. "Lord Host, are we going outside?" it asked in a small, hesitant voice, its usual arrogance subdued in Lucifer's presence.
Lucifer nodded without breaking stride. "We're going to buy some clothes," he replied, his tone casual. l. He had never been satisfied with the items he had ordered online; something about the experience lacked the tactile engagement he desired.
Besides, he had spent far too long indoors. The need to breathe in the outside air, to feel the world around him again, had finally pulled him from his self-imposed isolation.
System quickly nodded, obediently shifting its weight and settling comfortably on Lucifer's shoulder. As usual, it remained invisible to the eyes of normal humans and with Lucifer's power, no one would notice the odd, floating fat panda beside him.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the hotel, a group of young women gathered near the hotel's service telephone. Their eyes glimmered with excitement, impatience, and envy as they occasionally shot cold, competitive glances at one another.
Tension hung in the air, as each of them silently hoped to be the one to answer the next call. The source of their intrigue was clear: they all hoped to speak to the mysterious foreign guest staying in room 42, whose mere presence had captivated their imaginations.
The hotel manager, a stern man in his late twenties, walked in and immediately sensed the unease. "What are you all doing?" he demanded, his voice sharp as his eyes scanned the room.
Startled, the women turned toward him, their faces frozen in surprise. None of them dared to speak under his scrutinizing gaze.
The manager's frustration mounted, his temples throbbing with irritation. "What? If you don't speak up, be prepared to lose your jobs," he warned coldly. His tone carried no hint of mercy, even though he was addressing a group of women.
Suddenly, a mocking voice cut through the tension. "Oh? I know exactly what's going on," someone said, and all eyes turned toward the doorway where the Deputy Manager appeared. He wore a knowing smirk, his gaze playful as he took in the scene.
"Deputy Manager, do you know why they're behaving like this?" the hotel manager asked, his tone harsh but curious.
The Deputy Manager laughed, shaking his head. "Of course, I know. Not only me, but everyone in the hotel knows. You, on the other hand, have been absent for the past few days, so naturally, you've missed the gossip."
As the manager's expression darkened, the Deputy Manager realized he needed to tread lightly. "Relax, it's nothing serious," he said, chuckling. "A few days ago, a foreigner checked in, an extraordinarily handsome one at that. Ever since, the female staff have been hanging around the phones, hoping he'll call for service. They just want to talk to him. Young people these days. tsk tsk " He gave a lighthearted laugh, as if to downplay the situation, and then walked away, still chuckling to himself.
The manager, now understanding the source of the commotion, gave a weary sigh. He glanced at the female staff, his expression a mix of exasperation and disappointment. "We've had plenty of celebrities stay here before, and none of you behaved like this. What is it about this man that has you acting like lovesick teenagers?"
One of the women, shaking her head in defiance, spoke up. "Manager Choa, you just don't get it. The celebrities we've seen, they're just human. But this man... the one in room 42... he's different. There's something about him, something otherworldly."
Manager Choa rubbed his temples, feeling a headache begin to form. His patience was wearing thin, and he wasn't the type to tolerate foolishness. "Enough," he snapped. "Everyone, go back to—"
Before he could finish, a sudden cry rang out. One of the staff members near the door gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Ahhh! He's here! He's here!"
Her shout drew everyone's attention, and in unison, they turned toward the lobby. Even Manager Choa, who normally would have ignored such outbursts, found himself glancing toward the commotion.
Emerging from the elevator was the man who had captivated the hotel's female staff. He moved with almost ethereal grace, his long, sunset-red hair falling loosely around his face, framing his sharp, cold features. His rare pale blue eyes, a deep and piercing shade, seemed detached from the world around him as if nothing held his interest.
Dressed entirely in white; a white shirt, white pants, and white shoes, he radiated a stark, otherworldly presence.
Though his frame was slender, not overly muscular, the fit of his clothes revealed a lithe, athletic build. Each step he took commanded attention as if the very air around him responded to his movements.
The lobby fell silent as every pair of eyes followed him, and the once-bustling atmosphere froze in the weight of his presence.
System 4858 looked around the room, covering his face with his small shapy hands. He couldn't bear to watch what was unfolding before him. "Sigh, they have no idea who they're dealing with. These people always fall for the tyrant's looks, completely unaware they're walking a path with no return. Miserable, far too miserable." He muttered, his voice tinged with a strange mix of pity and exasperation.
Meanwhile, Lucifer ignored the whispers and curious glances aimed his way. His sharp, flawless features had once again ensnared the attention of everyone in the room, but he didn't care.
He walked straight toward the reception desk, his movements smooth and purposeful, as if he owned not just the place but the very air people were breathing. Although he had enough wealth to buy a car he had no intention of staying there for too long.
"I need a driver for a few days," Lucifer said, his voice calm but commanding, as though he were merely asking for the time.
The young receptionist, however, was utterly unprepared. Her eyes glazed over the moment Lucifer spoke, and she fell into a trance-like daze, mesmerized by his otherworldly appearance. She stood there, staring, her mind lost in a dream world where nothing else mattered but the vision in front of her.
System 4858 facepalmed with exaggerated frustration. It was the same scene everywhere they went. "I swear, it's always like this. The beauty trap strikes again," he muttered to himself, watching the receptionist drift further into her fantasies.
Lucifer, noticing the system's overdramatic reaction, shook his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He wasn't blind to the effect he had on people, but it still perplexed him at times. Turning to the system, who was mumbling something about 'beauty being a curse,' Lucifer raised an eyebrow.
At that moment, Manager Chao appeared, sensing the disruption at the front desk. His gaze fell on Lucifer for only a brief second before he quickly looked away, flustered.
Despite his attempts to maintain a professional demeanour, the manager's ears turned a deep shade of red. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he stepped forward to intervene.
"I'm terribly sorry for the delay, sir," Manager Chao said, still avoiding direct eye contact with Lucifer. His nervousness was palpable, though he tried to conceal it behind a forced smile.
Lucifer remained unfazed, offering only a curt nod in response. He didn't care for flattery or excuses, only results.
The receptionist, shaken from her stupor, began bowing repeatedly in apology, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please forgive me!"
Ignoring her frantic apologies, Manager Chao turned to Lucifer and said, "As an apology for the inconvenience, allow me to personally be your driver during your stay. No extra charge, of course. What do you think, sir?"
Lucifer gave the manager a long, unreadable look, his deep gaze seeming to pierce through the man. In truth, Lucifer didn't care about the offer. He was only interested in getting his business done as quickly as possible. After a moment, he nodded silently, signalling his agreement.
Manager Chao, visibly relieved, beamed with delight. "Excellent! Right this way, sir," he said, eager to please. He led Lucifer toward the door with quick, efficient steps, leaving the receptionist behind, still recovering from her daze.
As they left, System 4858 hovered nearby, watching the scene unfold. With a resigned sigh, he raised an imaginary candle in a mock gesture of mourning. "Another poor soul fell into the pit of no return," he whispered to himself, shaking his head in exaggerated sorrow. "Miserable, just too miserable."