Chap 4

Tatsuya glanced at his stepmother, who was still standing stiffly, her face showing uncertainty.

But now wasn't the time to think about that.

His stomach rumbled softly, reminding him that he wasn't truly full yet.

Tatsuya sighed, then asked casually,

"Oi, is there anything to eat?"

Shiori was startled for a moment before hurriedly responding with a slight nervousness,

"Ah... um... I... haven't prepared any food, Tatsuya-kun..."

"Hah?"

Tatsuya raised an eyebrow, looking at Shiori as if asking, What do you mean?

Shiori quickly continued, "B-but... I can... cook it n-now...!"

"How long?"

"U-um... m-maybe... around... t-twenty minutes...?"

Tatsuya thought for a moment.

Twenty minutes, huh?

That would be enough.

Even though he had eaten a little earlier, the hunger from his superhuman recovery wasn't completely gone yet.

However, taking a bath was more important first.

His clothes were in terrible condition—wrinkled, covered in dust and stains, and probably smelled bad too.

"Alright, do it."

Shiori quickly nodded,

"Y-yes! I-I'll... s-start cooking r-right away...!"

Tatsuya saw her slightly panicked expression and smiled faintly.

How amusing.

She really was like a frightened puppy afraid of making a mistake.

But that was good.

The more she got used to this pattern, the more she would lose her autonomy.

Tatsuya stepped forward, heading for the bathroom.

As he passed her, he stopped for a moment, then said casually without looking back,

"Don't take too long."

Shiori almost flinched before quickly nodding.

"Y-yes...! I-I'll be quick...!"

Good.

Alright, time for a bath, Tatsuya thought.

---

Shiori let out a quiet sigh.

The moment Tatsuya disappeared into the bathroom, her body felt lighter, as if the pressure crushing her chest had slowly eased.

However, her hands were still trembling slightly.

I... I'm too tense.

She bit her lip, recalling Tatsuya's gaze earlier—a sharp, cold, piercing stare.

Just like Father's gaze back then—cold, commanding, leaving no room for resistance.

Her hands began to tremble, cold sweat dampening her back.

Suddenly, memories from the past flashed through her mind.

Her mother's bloodied face, her lifeless body lying on the floor... and the desperate screams that had haunted her since childhood.

Shiori bit her lip, trying to push away the past.

That look... no, Tatsuya wasn't Father.

She gently patted her cheeks, trying to calm herself.

Right now, the most important thing was cooking.

If she cooked well, maybe Tatsuya would be pleased.

If he was pleased, maybe he wouldn't get angry.

With hurried steps, Shiori entered the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and checked its contents. There weren't many ingredients left.

I need to go shopping later...

She took out a few simple ingredients—eggs, vegetables, and a bit of meat.

As she started cooking, she unconsciously began to hum softly.

"Hm~ hm~..."

Her voice was gentle, like a spring breeze.

Ah... it's been so long since I felt like this.

Just preparing food for someone... she felt a warmth that had been missing from her life for a long time.

She smiled faintly.

Maybe... maybe someday, Tatsuya would accept her as his mother without needing any agreements.

Yes, she just had to work harder.

Shiori told herself with determination.

---

Meanwhile, in the bathroom

Tatsuya stood under the shower, warm water flowing from his head down his entire body.

He let out a slow breath. The sound of water filled the room, creating a calming atmosphere.

Then, his eyes shifted to the mirror on the wall.

Alright, let's see what I look like now.

In the mirror, a young man stood naked, his body thin.

His face was undeniably handsome.

But there was something... unhealthy about him.

His skin was pale, as if he had spent his entire life using his hands for self-pleasure rather than doing anything productive.

Slightly sunken eyes. Somewhat messy hair.

"... Damn."

Tatsuya rubbed his face, feeling a little hopeless.

"So this is me now? I look like a hikikomori who's given up on life..."

He examined his body in the mirror—pale skin, slightly sunken in some places.

No new wounds, only old scars, proving that his body's recovery ability had its limits.

"This healing ability feels almost magical."

But... there were still some old scars, like faint cuts in certain spots.

This means my super recovery works well, but it's not total regeneration.

If he suffered minor or moderate wounds, his body would heal quickly.

But if he lost an arm... well, he'd just be missing that arm forever.

"So I'm not truly immortal... makes sense."

He moved his arms, feeling the lack of strength in his muscles.

His body was thin not in an athletic way, but in a miserable, stray-dog-that-hasn't-eaten-for-days way.

This is bad.

I need to start working out again.

In his past life,

even though he was an otaku who loved reading manga and light novels, he still kept his body in shape.

He went to the gym regularly.

He trained in boxing, inspired by some action manga he had read.

He wasn't a professional fighter, but strong enough to beat up an average guy.

Alright, I have to start over from scratch.

With that thought, Tatsuya turned off the shower and grabbed a towel.

Tonight, he would begin light training.

---

After bathing

Tatsuya walked down the hallway on the second floor, a towel wrapped around his waist.

His stepmother, Shiori, was nowhere to be seen.

Good.

I don't want her to see my body looking like a stray dog.

It might hurt his pride.

According to the original owner's memories, his room was at the end of the hallway.

Reaching the door, Tatsuya took a deep breath.

Alright, let's see what kind of place I live in.

He opened the door.

And immediately wanted to close it again.

"... This..."

His eyes scanned the room, and disgust crept into his heart.

Disgusting.

Suspiciously stained tissues were scattered on the floor. A smell only men would recognize lingered faintly in the air.

A bedroom that seemed untouched by cleaning for years.

Wrinkled bedsheets with suspicious stains in some spots.

Walls decorated with posters of sexy women in various suggestive poses.

Tatsuya closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"... Was the original owner a human or a pig?"

With a resigned expression, Tatsuya stepped inside.

He picked up a tissue with the tip of his fingers, as if afraid of getting infected by filth.

He grimaced.

Even a pigsty might be cleaner than this.

He quickly tossed the tissue into the trash bin, his face full of disgust.

Then, he got to work.

He picked up the scattered trash one by one, throwing them into a plastic bag.

"Seriously... couldn't even throw out the trash? Did he think this room would clean itself?"

He tore down all the sexy posters from the walls.

"What a... shameful taste."

Every time he found something suspicious whether it was clumped-up tissues or an empty bottle that hadn't been touched in who knows how long—he could only sigh and shake his head.

After a while, the room finally started to look more livable.

He could finally breathe easier.

Tatsuya looked at his now slightly tidier room.

"... Well, at least now it can be called a living space."

Only then did he put on some clothes.

After that, Tatsuya walked to a small desk in the corner of the room, where a mirror stood with a thin layer of dust on its surface.

When he saw his reflection, his lips tightened.

"... Damn."

Even after showering, his messy hair and slightly pale face still made him look like a beggar.

He moved closer to the mirror, inspecting the thin, uneven mustache above his lip.

Malnourished, messy hair, tired face... I look like a loser.

Sighing, Tatsuya searched for something to fix his appearance.

He opened a drawer, rummaging through it.

After a moment, his hand found an old comb and an electric razor.

"At least the original owner wasn't completely filthy..."

Without hesitation, he shaved his mustache, ensuring his face was clean.

Once done, he touched his now smoother chin.

"... Not bad."

Then, he grabbed a comb and started tidying up his hair.

He experimented with a few different styles before finally slicking it back.

Once again, he looked at the mirror.

The once haggard-looking handsome face now appeared a bit fresher.

The pale look was still there probably due to malnutrition but overall

"...A few points added."

He tilted his head left and right, making sure of his new appearance.

Slowly, the corners of his lips curled up slightly.

Feeling somewhat satisfied, Tatsuya turned around and walked out of the room.