Chapter 8: Turning point.

Ethan walked home slowly, carrying the groceries they had forgotten in the chaos earlier. Outside, the cool air and quiet streets looked peaceful, but inside, his mind was a storm. His footsteps echoed on the empty pavement, while his thoughts roared inside him.

"Today's incident will definitely reach those bastards' ears,," he muttered, clenching his fists. "Damn it. I don't regret what I did, but I should have been more discreet. Now they'll be moving faster, which means I have to as well. I just hope there's still some time left."

He looked up at the sky, where the fading light did little to ease his worry. He wondered if he had enough time, if he could outrun the trouble that was coming.

His mind quickly turned to his next hurdle: the looming debt. "I have to pay off that debt first. Once the bank gets its money, we can disappear for a while. But I need to move fast—I don't know how much time I have."

With that, he quickened his pace toward home.

When he stepped inside, he found Elise standing in the hallway, her eyes red from crying. Adrian was a few steps behind her, quiet but tense.

Ethan barely had time to open his mouth before Elise launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around his torso. He staggered slightly but caught her with ease. She clung to him as if he was the only thing anchoring her to reality, her fragile body trembling violently against his chest.

"I'm... I'm so sorry," she cried, her voice was weak. "I'm so sorry, Ethan!"

She held him tightly, as if she feared letting go. Ethan's confusion deepened. Ethan set the groceries down gently and placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to meet her eyes.

"Elise, what are you sorry for? What happened? Why are you apologizing?" he asked softly.

But no matter how much he asked, she didn't answer—only whispered repeated apologies between ragged breaths. And then, before he could press further, her legs gave out, and she collapsed into his arms, unconscious.

Ethan caught her easily, a deep frown showing his worry. "Elise!" He tightened his grip, carefully lowering her to the ground. Her face was pale, her breaths coming out in soft, uneven gasps. The events of the day had clearly hurt her. Despite the strong front she tried to show, both he and Adrian knew the truth: deep down, Elise was just a frightened sixteen-year-old girl, forced to endure far more than she should have.

Adrian stepped forward, his expression unreadable but his concern evident.

"Even before you got back, she kept mumbling," Adrian said quietly. "I didn't understand at first, but now I get it. She was apologizing to you."

Ethan clenched his jaw, his eyes scanning Elise's face. She was so small, too small for all of this weight. Too fragile for this world. The old him—the weak, useless fool—had let her die once before.

Never again.

He carefully lifted her into his arms and carried her inside. She felt lighter than she should have, and that only twisted the knife deeper.

Adrian followed, his eyes never leaving Ethan. Once inside, Ethan laid Elise down gently. He smoothed a few strands of damp hair from her face. She had been so strong for so long, carrying the weight of a world that had done nothing but hurt her.

She deserved better. They all did.

As he pulled the blanket over her, his mind churned with thoughts of what was coming. He had come back to change things, to save her and himself, but now he realized just how little time he had. The enemy wouldn't wait for him to be ready. The walls were already closing in.

"Ethan."

Adrian's voice pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up to see his friend staring at him, eyes sharp, unblinking.

"Adrian, I—"

"You don't have to explain yourself," Adrian interrupted. "I only have two questions."

Ethan adjusted Elise in his arms and gave him a nod, signaling he was listening.

Adrian's gaze locked onto Ethan's. "Are you really Ethan?"

There was no hesitation. Ethan nodded firmly.

"What happened to you?"

"What happened to you? Just how were you able to defeat those two? You might be a genius but fighting like that takes experience. Lots and lots of experience.", Adrian asked.

A pause. Then, with a sigh, Ethan answered, "Someday, I'll tell you. I'll explain everything to you. But right now, it's better if I don't. Because that will just make it more confusing."

Adrian held his gaze for a few moments longer, scrutinizing him. Eventually, he exhaled and nodded, though skepticism still lingered in his eyes. "Fine, I'll take your word on it. But you owe me those answers in the future."

"In the future, for sure."

A small sound caught their attention. Elise, though unconscious, was still mumbling apologies under her breath.

"Today was just too much for her," Ethan said.

He pulls the cover over Elise to make sure she stays warm and doesn't catch a cold. Then they sat in the next room, wrapped in silence for a while before Adrian finally spoke.

"Damn it. She shouldn't have to go through all this while we're here," he murmured, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Clenching his fists, Adrian added, "Damn it. Why do people like Victor even exist?"

Ethan's face grew serious. "People like him will always be around. They prey on the weak because they can. The only answer is to become stronger."

A heavy silence filled the room. Then Adrian broke it.

"Then... can you make me stronger?"

Ethan was taken aback by Adrian's request.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked.

"Yeah. After watching you fight, I know you can teach me," Adrian replied.

Ethan shook his head. "No, not that kind of strength. I mean your power. I thought you didn't want to use it—that's why I kept you away during the fight."

"You didn't keep me away—you practically pushed me out there. And how did you get so strong? You still look like the same skinny kid to me," Adrian teased.

Ethan smiled slightly. "It wasn't about physical strength. It was about skill. That's how I beat them—they just used their power without knowing how to control it. Besides," he added with a laugh, "you're even skinnier than I am, so it wouldn't take much to shove you."

"Why you—" Adrian said, playfully punching Ethan. They both chuckled—a laugh filled with a quiet pain that spoke of hidden scars. Then silence settled again.

"I never wanted to use my power," Adrian said softly, breaking the quiet. "It always reminded me of my father. I don't have any good memories of it—only the mess it leaves behind. But now, I feel so weak that I couldn't even protect the person who saved me. How useless am I?"

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but Adrian continued, "I'm not saying this just out of guilt. I've been thinking about it for a while. We can't survive in this world without power. You know that as well as I do."

Ethan stayed silent, his quiet acceptance saying enough.

"I can't keep living like this," Adrian said. "You saw how I hesitated to use my ability at the market. This time, you were there. But what if things had gone wrong? What if I had to use it and then lost control?" He looked at his clenched arm.

Taking a deep breath, Adrian added, "I don't know what changed you, and I won't ask now. But I need to know one thing: Can you make me stronger?"

Ethan studied him carefully, looking for any sign of doubt. Finding none, he finally nodded. "It won't be easy. Can you handle the challenge?"

Adrian let out a dry laugh. "Do I have a choice? If I don't face pain and hardship, I'll stay weak forever. I refuse that. I'm in."

Ethan's lips curled into a small, approving smile. "Then I'll make you stronger. Follow my training exactly, and you'll never have to lower your head to anyone again. I promise."

Adrian extended his hand. "That's a promise."

Ethan gripped his hand firmly. In that handshake, they sealed a silent pact—not just as friends, but as comrades ready to change their lives forever.

The day soon faded into night. The house was unusually quiet—almost too quiet. Adrian had left earlier, promising to return by daybreak. Meanwhile, Elise had finally fallen asleep in her room. Though she woke up for a few hours, she barely spoke or ate, her energy drained. Her eyes looked both still and restless.

Ethan knew that today's incident at the market was just the trigger. The real cause of her state was the accumulation of everything—the misfortunes, the abrupt changes, the constant weight of fear.

So, Ethan let her rest. He took care of all the housework, avoiding anything that might wake her. As for finding work? That was out of the question. He already knew that no one would dare hire him now—not after what had happened with Victor at the market. But that was fine. He had no intention of doing normal work anyway. The kind of money he needed wouldn't come from a regular job.

Now, alone in his room, Ethan sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by countless sheets of paper.

Each page held pieces of his future plans—ideas, strategies, calculations, and backup plans. Unlike the chaos of his first day, his thoughts were now clear and organized.

With steady hands, he opened a notebook and carefully rewrote his plans, squeezing all the important details into one neat record. When he was satisfied, he set the notebook aside and gathered the loose drafts into a neat pile. After a deep, steadying breath, he flicked his fingers—and flames burst forth.

"Blaze."

The fire quickly devoured the papers, turning them into curling embers and drifting ash. The dancing light of the flames shone in Ethan's eyes as he watched his old scribbles vanish into nothing. There could be no proof left behind. If anyone ever found these notes—or discovered he knew about the future—it would mean disaster.

As the last of the papers turned to ash, Ethan suddenly swayed. His vision blurred, and he collapsed to his knees, his breathing coming in uneven and long gasps. A cold sweat broke out as exhaustion overwhelmed him.

"Damn it... just burning a few pieces of paper drained me this much?"

He gritted his teeth, gripping the floor to steady himself. This body—his past self's body—was weak. It wasn't used to wielding skills, and even something as minor as this left him gasping for air.

It was a problem. A major problem.

But now, he had a solution.

"Mary, I know you're there. Come out."

A moment of silence followed. The room remained still, the only sound being Ethan's uneven breathing. But then—

A soft, knowing chuckle echoed through the space.

The air shifted. A thick, white fog seeped into the room, swirling around him in ghostly tendrils. Slowly, the mist took shape, condensing into a familiar figure—a woman with piercing golden eyes and an amused smile.

"So, you finally decided to remember me, Host," Mary said, her voice carrying a hint of playful reproach. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten all about me."