Initial Preparation 3

With nothing urgent until morning, he chose to eat first.

After finishing, he used his technique to speed up digestion and mend torn muscle fibers. Then he left his room. 

He didn't usually do this. Nights were for games and anime, not roaming the house.

But ignoring the feeling in his chest would only keep him awake. 

The first floor was empty. 

He checked the common room. 

That's where she was—alone at the bar, pouring a glass of red wine. 

She didn't look drunk. The wine glass sat untouched in her hand, her fingers barely moving. 

Her eyes drifted over the bottles behind the counter, staring through them like nothing was really there. 

He'd never seen her like this before. She looked drained. Hollow. Empty. 

'That idiot. Don't tell me he's actually cheating on her! '

Unacceptable. 

Sure, his uncle was wealthy and attractive to most women. But none of that mattered. 

Not when his wife was this devoted and caring. 

'Doesn't he get it? Most guys would kill to be with someone like her. She deserves better— '

He stopped himself. 

The thought felt too personal, too biased.

There was still so much unknown.

Maybe this had nothing to do with his uncle. 

'Only one way to find out. '

Walking closer, he noticed her expression change the moment she saw him.

She tried to look normal, like nothing was going on.

"Terrence? What are you doing down here? Did you need something?"

It was time to man up. 

"Aunt Effie, this might be out of line, but I don't like seeing you like this."

She blinked. "You don't want to see me drinking?"

"No." He shook his head. "I don't want to see you sad."

Her eyes widened. She looked down. Then back at him.

"I'm not sad," she said, forcing another smile. "I'm just tired."

"Aunt Effie, don't treat me like I'm a child." He paused.

"You're the only one who made me feel welcome after my parents died. We're not even related, but you've always been there. I hate seeing you like this. You're really kind, and—"

Before he could finish, she hugged her arms tightly around herself. 

"Please, Terrence," she whispered, her voice breaking, "don't say anything more... or I might do something I'll regret."

She trembled. He could feel the rapid pounding of her heart beneath her soft chest. 

His hand lifted instinctively to hug her back, but she pulled away and wiped her tears.

"Terrence." Her voice softened. "This is an adult matter. Your uncle and I will sort it out."

Those words were meant to calm him, but he didn't back down. If this was about age, then he was far older than her if he counted his past life. 

"I'm not a kid," he said. "I'll be eighteen soon."

Her smile faded. Something flickered in her eyes before she looked away, gripping the wine glass tighter.

"I... I didn't mean to treat you like a child," she mumbled. "I just..."

"Terrence, please… wait until your birthday. I'll be more comfortable talking about it then."

She stood up, finished her wine in one sip, and walked off.

Left alone, Terrence stared after her with mixed emotions. 

'Wait, until I'm of legal age?'

His imagination ran wild. There weren't many reasons she would delay something like this.

Thinking about it only fed the idea—maybe she really liked him.

This wasn't how things played out before. But his steps were already changing the future like the butterfly effect.

And if he was lucky... maybe this butterfly would land on a flower worth waiting for.

'Shit, I'm getting ahead of myself.' 

He shook the thought away and went back to his room.

'Focus. Get stronger. Get richer. Build a bunker. Rule over once it all goes to hell.'

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Days passed, and his progress kept improving.

Neither of them brought up what happened at the bar, which was probably for the best. It gave him space to focus on himself. 

Progress showed in his body. 

Even Effie was surprised by how much weight he gained. 

Just a few days ago, he weighed around 52 kg. Now he was already at 62 kg.

If someone else had been feeding him, she would've wondered how he packed on so much weight so fast.

Worried, she searched online and found that some people could gain weight quickly by using steroids. 

It sounded risky, so she confronted him about it. But he said that wasn't the case, and she chose to believe him. 

Now, she found herself sneaking glances at the gym, watching him bench-press 60 kg.

She didn't know much about weights, but it still looked impressive, especially for someone who just started. 

""Twelve!" he grunted, forcing out the last rep of his set."

Sitting up, he started his breathing technique again to maximize his gains.

But by now, his growth already slowed to a snail's pace as expected.

'This is more than enough to start practicing combat techniques,' he muttered, flexing his fingertips. 

He was stronger now than the average untrained adult, who usually capped at 20–30 kg.

But the minimum requirement for his combat training was 50 kg, as it demanded upper, lower and core strength. 

'This room's too cramped. I'll move to the backyard.'

Standing up, he stretched his legs one last time . 

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. Effie.

She ducked behind the hallway wall. But he already knew she'd been watching since the beginning.

In the past six days, his senses improved. The little mana in the air started to bring back some of his sensitivity. 

It was nowhere near his former strength, but it was enough to defend himself if anyone tried to break in.