The transition from Floor 21 to Floor 22 should have prepared me.
One moment we were walking through the victory gate, still laughing about the kissing incident. The next, we were standing in an enormous ballroom that belonged in a period drama, wearing formal clothes we definitely didn't own five seconds ago.
I looked down at myself. Tailored black suit, silver cufflinks, white gloves. My sword was gone, replaced by a ornamental rapier that hung at my hip like a fashion accessory. I could feel layers of social etiquette being downloaded directly into my brain—which fork to use, how to address nobility, the proper depth of a bow.
"What the hell?" Ji-won's voice cracked. He was wearing a military dress uniform complete with medals he'd never earned. The fabric strained against his shoulders.
