Hi,dough here so...ummm..I might make a few changes in this chapter when the characters are talking, instead of making it like this:
Character (emotional):"speech..."
I'll just make it like this:
Text...text..text..."speech"text text....
Well, you know what I mean, so this makes it easier when I write their dialogue.
Well i just want to say that..hehe
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MC'S POV:
It had been eight full months since I began my insane little morning routine—waking up before the sun and dragging my five-year-old body through push-ups, sit-ups, stretches, and sprints until I couldn't feel my arms anymore. Every 3 days,of course i had rest days, but i make my own training have no mercy on me. I do this exercise religiously but there something surprised me in early days im start working out and training (I know, I know I'm five years old, and training from that early on doesn't make sense in logic) i didn't doing it alone, because that Lucy and Gwen suddenly had stubbornly tagged along with me—without any reason at all they just start doing what i just doing that really cute—they just like puppies refusing to be left behind. At first, they were just follow me and watch me to practice maybe because i don't spend time playing with them like usual, but now? Now they were clocking in the miles with me, keeping up in their own way—of course i slow down a bit for them.
This is the thing what many parents will oppose if they see their young children suddenly doing exercise like running, push ups, and squats to extreme, They should concern about it logically—but their parents? Weirdly fine with it—especially Lucy's mom, who seemed almost too okay with her daughter training with a boy at 5 A.M every morning—of course my mom and dad start wake up early to watch over us,its still dangerous to five year olds to start work out that early.
There are times when they were wondering what made me train so hard,my parents say that but those question never last—their know from the start my birth never normal tho so they stop ask me question for it,but my aunt and uncle not like them keep wondering and keep asking me why I'm doing this? Why training so hard but in the end they also stop ask and wonder about it infact they just let Gwen do what i was doing right now—of course because Gwen tantrums and fussiness her they start let Gwen join me, unlike Lucy that her mom let her do anything because I was there...very weird.
They—Gwen and Lucy started following me after get their primision by their parents that seem still wondering about all of this—But hey, nobody actually knew why I was doing all this (Gwen and Lucy also didn't know why I'm doing this). My parents start come out with some guesses —They all thought it was some cute fitness phase, like I wanted to be a little superhero. And they still suprise with my tapid growth well none of them had the slightest idea I'd already awakened my Anodite spark DNA years ago. That secret? Still mine, sealed tight. And yeah, I had no intention of spilling it anytime soon.
And do you remember that PC I mentioned? The one Grandpa Max gave me for my fifth birthday? Thing looked more like a 2020s alien-tech fusion than anything from the early 2000s. Sleek, black with green line in the screen, suspiciously powerful. I knew it wasn't normal, and I knew there was alien tech involved—Max tried to play dumb with his "gift from grandpa bla bla" nonsense, but come on. You leave a some yellow sticky note and act like that's enough and just let those beast of computers being used by five year old stupidly?? I ain't used that to search Cocomelon—heck let alone YouTube, those not being created yet , oh Please. Of course I used that beast to go online, dig into every kind of martial arts I could find—karate, muay thai, silat, boxing, even weird old kung fu videos in 240p even though there still no YouTube here.
And thanks to the dozens of manhwa I used to binge in my old life (oh thank you ptj and YLAB) , I already had a solid visual foundation. So I started mimicking moves, experimenting in the backyard beside my other thing like training Gwen and Lucy. Until one day Grandpa Max just showed up—see me do mid-kick, drenched in sweat and see all home made exercise equipment on the yard,with Gwen and Lucy watching me practice—they also drenched with sweats. At first, he was shocked to see me training with these two.
Then his eyes nearly popped when he saw Gwen and Lucy doing jumping jacks beside me. Later, while sipping coffee at our kitchen table, he asked my mom—Sandra, his daughter-in-law—what the hell was going on. "So you're telling me Ben's been doing morning training month later after his and Gwen birthday? I don't know Sandra,that hard to believe,he's five, Its doesn't make sense" he asked, eyebrows climbing. My mom just nodded calmly, pouring him more coffee. "Yes, Dad. At first, we thought it was just a phase. Something cute,like Ben try copy some move from tv show he watch and start doing work out. But then we realized he was serious...really really serious. Carl and I started waking up at 5 A.M. just to keep an eye on him while he jogged. I mean, he's five. We were scared something might happen. But after a few months… we just started supporting him. Still scared, but we trust him. Even though he never told us why he start doing it." Grandpa Max went quiet for a moment, nodding slowly. Then he pointed at the girls. "What about these two?" Gwen, his granddaughter, and Lucy—yeah, he knew she was a Lenopan, that secret had been out since Joel and Camille's wedding. Only Mom, Lili, and Uncle Frank (probably) didn't know. "Well, Lucy started coming early on," my mom explained. "She gets dropped off here before I take them to kindergarten,she also ate breakfast with us,even though Mrs Blythe mann already scold her to eat breakfast at their own house. But since she saw Ben working out one morning, got curious, and joined in. I thought her mom would be mad, but nope—Mrs. Mann was fine with it. She even encouraged it. Said she was glad Lucy was spending time with Ben. As for Gwen…" My mom smiled, shaking her head. "You know how close she's been with Ben since they were three months old. If Ben's doing something, she wants to be part of it too." Grandpa Max just blinked, then chuckled softly, the kind of chuckle that old soldiers do when a memory hits. "Reminds me of my younger days… heh…"
(Author: if I'm not wrong or my memory trick me max was war veteran,He served in the United States Air Force as a pilot, specializing in flying the F-104 Starfighter. or something...and then become plumber...maybe.)
For the past few weeks, Grandpa Max had been parking his signature RV near our (my) house, keeping an eye on us—his grandkids. Technically, only Gwen and I were related by blood, but Grandpa treated Lucy like his own granddaughter too, no question about it. He seemed pretty impressed by our discipline—especially the way I guided Gwen and Lucy through simple workout routines, even though we were only five. One morning, I was practicing some Muay Thai forms by myself while Gwen and Lucy just sat on the porch watching. That was when Grandpa Max walked up, wearing one of his countless red Hawaiian shirts and his beer Belly bounce when he walk. Seriously, I still couldn't figure out how many of those he owned. Did he just have an entire wardrobe filled with them, or was he wearing the same one over and over?
He handed me a folded piece of paper. I raised an eyebrow, glancing at it while still bouncing on my toes. "What's this, Grandpa?" I asked, not breaking my stance.
He smiled like he always did—calm, gentle, but with that spark of knowing something you didn't. "A flyer for a new martial arts course opening up in Bellwood. Thought you might be interested, seeing how you're already teaching the girls some stuff. They take kids as young as five. It could be a good opportunity for all of you to try out different styles."
Lucy suddenly leaned over my shoulder, her sky-blue eyes wide with excitement. "Woooaaah! Martial arts course?! Ben, let's go there!" she said, nearly bouncing.
"I-I wanna go too... if Big Bro goes," Gwen added shyly, clinging to my arm and looking up at me with those determined green eyes.
I stared at both of them. Yeah, I wasn't gonna lie—I was thinking about it. This could be good for building my foundation early, and if Grandpa recommended it, it had to be legit. I finally nodded. "Well… sure, why not."
Their eyes lit up like fireworks, and they both screamed in sync, "YAAAAY!!"
"Great!" Grandpa Max said, chuckling. "I'll go talk to your parents and see if they're cool with it." And with that, he turned and strolled into our house, flyer still flapping in my hand.
For the past two months, our martial arts course had been going great—honestly, it was a massive boost to my physical progress. I was surprised they offered five different styles, rotating each week! That meant I got a nice sample of Karate, Judo, Taekwondo, Boxing, and even Aikido, it was a good foundation ,Honestly I'm grateful, of course the way they teach the five years olds here sure effective even, but I've already decided I'll self-study the rest of other martial arts styles they didn't teach here later on my own no biggie. Gotta be prepared when the real shit gonna starts at age ten.
Even Lucy had made good progress—and seemed to genuinely enjoy it. She was upbeat as always, full of energy, and eager to try everything. Gwen, on the other hand, took it more seriously. She was super focused, always asking questions to intructors, adjusting her stance, and trying to copy techniques perfectly. Her dedication was... kinda scary. Still she always trying to perfect her form and routines. But even then, she always came looking for praise afterward. Gwen took the cue and ran towards the training dummy, jumped and kicked it straight into the chest, knocking out five of them at once. Like wtf...is this kid for real five?
"Ben! Ben! Did you see that? I did that spinning kick and knocked down five dummies!" Gwen shouted, eyes sparkling like emeralds, her red hair bouncing as she turned to me.
I smiled and gently patted her head. "Nice Gwen! You die awesome there!" I said, intentionally mispronouncing "did," knowing it would get a reaction.
Gwen giggled, then puffed out her cheeks like she was pretending to be mad. "Did, not die, dummy!" I chuckle when she corrected me.
If I remember right, Gwen ends up joining the karate club in high school and gets a black belt real fast… Now that I see her going all out in Taekwondo, I can only imagine how scary good she'll be this time around.
And then came Lucy.
Not one to be outdone, she literally bounced off the floor like a spring, stretching her legs out like a rubber leg missile and slamming down into the dummies like a wrecking ball. Ten dummies flew across the mat. Nobody noticed how unnatural it looked—except me. The way her body bent and coiled in midair? That was pure Lenopan physiology.
"Ben! Ben! How's that! I knocked down twice as many! And more awesome than the red bookworm!" she said smugly, skipping over to me.
Of course, I gave her the praise she wanted. "Dang, Lucy! That was crazy! Ten in one shot? You're like a mini wrecking crew."
Lucy's eyes sparkled, and she grinned wide with that smug, teasing glint in her eyes. Gwen glared at her, fists balled.
"Psyche!" Lucy said, sticking out her tongue at Gwen and doing her classic 'prankster victory pose.' "Score one for me~!"
Gwen huffed. "Cheater…"man, she really loves pushing Gwen's buttons.
I smiled quietly to myself. It was cute—yeah—but a little concerning too. I had manipulated their emotions a for lots of Times now when I was setting everything up years ago to them deffrently. I just wanted their loyalty and trust, something to keep them on my side as things got complicated in the future. But now? Now I wasn't so sure,like What if I sparked something… dangerous in them?
.....
Nope, haha im in danger if that happen glup..
---
Then every Saturday, Grandpa Max would drive us to the martial arts center in his classic RV, park outside, and watch over us from the waiting bench, drinking coffee and reading the paper like some old secret agent even though this grandpa—which, let's be real, he was even though is more like space police..anyway right now—just now,he look like having his best memory of his life to watch his grandchild plus Lucy growth together.
And i'll tell you,we got better week by week.
Gwen? She became popular with the kids in our age group—mostly because of her talent and leadership (and she have been helping lots kids here that had difficult learning). She didn't care for the attention though, especially from boys.
"Someone get some fans here." i say to teasing her,she look at them while crossed her arm and look cool at them"fans? They're annoying," she muttered once. "They just keep watching me. I'm not doing this for them."she said while glancing slightly at me without moving her head. I notice that...but i just smirked and ignore her words, and try to tease her"They like redheads who can kick."
She rolled her eyes. "Tch. Idiots."
Lucy, on the other hand? Lucy, she thrived in the spotlight, she practically turned into a celebrity. Her cheerful, loud, and optimistic nature made her the heart of the class. Almost 89% of Bellwood's kindergander-age boys probably had a crush on her. I'm not even kidding. It's terrifying how fast she networked i mean—she made friends with almost everyone. Boys, girls all ages, staff, janitors—even the vending machine guy liked her (imma called FBI if that
MOFO try do shit to her). It was getting kinda scary. Makes me wonder… was original Lucy like this too? Did she also had lots friends? that's a question mark for me. When I looked at her,she ran towards me with his trademark smile.
"hehehe, Ben! Ben! They called me the Martial Queen today!" Lucy bragged one afternoon, puffing her chest proudly.
"Nice title," I said, sipping my water.
"Hehe, right! Its better than Karate carrot, right Gwen?"is she having beefing with Vegetables or what actually? She been calling Gwen tomatos,beetroot and now carrot.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!" sigh...these two,hehehe welp yup,this is the definition, peace and chaos in harmony.
//Lucy is being chased by Gwen around the practice room.//
Beside that we had our usual schedule renew every Saturday grandpa max would Drive us to that course with his RV and watch over us,and what you know During the few weeks there we made some progress even more, Gwen popular with the children our age (five years old) grew larger same goes as Lucy although gwen didn't care because she didn't like those boys,but Lucy as usual make friends them all (like i said she already being known very well all bellwood as nice and friendy girl that like making friends).
---
All of that had been on my mind lately. Between push-ups, stretches, teaching Lucy how not to fall flat on her face during a forward roll, and keeping Gwen from trying to actually beat up Lucy every time she got teased—it was a lot. Those two bickered constantly. Not like in the original timeline, remember? Normally, it was supposed to be me (original Ben) and Gwen going at it. But nope—here, Lucy had taken that role and ran with it, poking and prodding Gwen like it was her part-time job.
Even during martial arts class, where we were supposed to be focused, Lucy would mess around and Gwen would try to match her antics with overly serious moves. It was a circus. And yet, despite the chaos, one thought kept echoing in my head:
How do I get money?
I mean not pocket change from Mom. Not snack money I "borrow" from the kitchen counter. I'm talking about real, serious cash—money I could use without getting interrogated. I needed it for the future. When I turned ten, that summer trip with Grandpa Max would happen. Just like in the original timeline. And when the Omnitrix landed, I had to be ready. Really ready.
I wasn't just thinking about gear and medkits—I was thinking survival. Grandpa Max's cooking alone was a test of willpower. I was slowly working up the courage (and stomach) to handle his intergalactic menu. But Gwen and Lucy? They wouldn't last a day. Lucy would scream, and Gwen might faint if the food moved on its own.
So yeah, I needed money. And not just for me. I wasn't that selfish idiot when i was 3 month old back then.No, I had people to protect now.
But here's the problem—I'm five. No job. No ID. No way to legally open a bank account without legal guardian. I could ask my dad for money. Carl Tennyson—king of contracts, ruler of receipts. But that man was made of paperwork. If I asked for something too specific, like, say, a portable medkit or freeze-dried nutrient packs, he'd stare at me. Hard. Then follow up with a barrage of questions I was not ready to answer.
Still, that didn't stop me from sneaking into his office late at night when my parents were asleep. And no, I didn't steal from him—calm down,I'm not that desperate...what do you think what kind of child am I? Ungrateful? No...I'm not that low.
I came for the books.
Dad had an entire bookshelf filled with business knowledge. Marketing, branding, investment, negotiation—you name it. I read every single one of them, quietly flipping pages under dim light while my Anodite DNA did the rest. Mana-enhanced memory and my capacity for learning fast—meant everything stuck. I could recite whole chapters in my sleep. I understood business models better than some college grads. But understanding it and using it? Two completely different beasts. I needed an opening.
And I got one....and let me tell you that was sweet.
It happened on a morning that started just like any other. A few days had passed since kindergarten let out, and our training had taken a short break. The summer air was creeping in, lazy and slow. I was outside playing? more like we drawing together me snd Gwen when Lucy appeared—more like launched herself at me in full tackle-mode.
"BENNNN!" she shouted as we hit the grass. Ooof,my back...she just like Gwen back then give me serius Dejavu, aaaagh...need heal quickly.
Gwen looked furious seeing Lucy hogging on me, her face? Very typical of someone that very angry,ooof.
"Aaaagh, LUCY! Could you see that me and Ben were playing right now!?" she snapped her ginger hair stood up as if struck by electricity, with the crayon breaking into two pieces due to Gwen's grip...she angry to Lucy—why am I scared of her???
"Huh? Playing what?" Lucy replied with a shrug and that annoying grin. "All I saw was you torturing Ben with your sassy attitude and showing him your drawings like he's your personal art judge. Hahahaha!"
I tried not to laugh...i mean i alreally did it...i swear i am! I can see Gwen's angry gaze at me, as she pouted her cheeks. I'm quickly regain myself from laugh—not because I'm scared of five year old death state me..n-no not that,ahem...
"Lucy, behave," I said, doing my best to stay neutral. Even though that comeback was savage.
Before Gwen could retaliate, Lucy grabbed both our wrists and twirled. "No time for boring catch—shopping trip today! My mom's invite you to go shopping in the city! let's gooo ben!—and ah yeah you you too Gwen." She said while glancing at Gwen with her trademark tease smile. While draggjng my arms,damm she very strong now.
Well i didn't argue. Not because I wanted to shop, but because Im looking forward to go with Lucy mom,you know her name.
Mrs. Blythe Mann.
Lucy's mom. One of the kindest—and okay, one of the prettiest—Lenopan aliens I'd ever met in human form. She looked like an older, gentler version of Lucy. Like a MILF version, honestly. And yeah, I remember certain… fan art of grown-up Lucy from my past life. Can't unsee it. And now her mom is real and calling me "sweetheart" every other visit.
She adored me, maybe more than she should've. I wasn't gonna complain. She treated me like family and was so gentle and wholesome it felt like I was in a sitcom. So yeah, I went along with the trip...what could get wrong?
Fuck me....i jinx it,sigh..so here I am again, squeezed between two little tornadoes of energy in the backseat of Mrs. Blythe's car, with Gwen on one side and Lucy on the other, each of them locking down my arms like they're like people from IRS just caught someone who embezzles tax money that has not been paid for several years. while arguing over who gets to talk to me first aaagh my ears.
Lucy's going on and on about her newest comic book series, her voice practically bouncing with excitement as she flips through the panels in her lap, trying to show me every single one, even the splash pages. And honestly? It's kinda cute. Ever since we both realized we shared the same geek-level love for comics, she's been more excited to talk about them with me than anyone else. And yeah, she's into chili fries now too—which is either just a fun coincidence, or a subtle sign that the "Ben" preferences are starting to leak into her somehow through proximity. Or maybe I'm overthinking it. Either way, I've developed a pretty solid love for chili fries myself, whether by fate or assimilation default setting of Ben?.
But Sumo Slammers? Still can't stand those cringey, low-budget, wannabe action franchise cartoon...total L. Anyway, every time Lucy tries to monopolize my attention, Gwen jumps in with something weirdly specific she found online—some obscure martial arts style, a bit of American or world history, or some random Bellwood urban legend she read on a message board. And I know exactly where she's digging all this up from: that OP alien-tech-laced PC Grandpa Max gave us for our fifth birthday a couple months ago. Seriously, that machine is from another century. It looks more like it belongs in 2020 than in the early 2000s, and the fact that a five-year-old can use it to do deep-dive research just proves how dangerous Gwen could become someday.
Still, I can't deny her facts always catch my attention. I've been reading up on this world's history too—not just America's, but global stuff. I don't even know where I was originally from in my past life, but somehow, I know I wasn't American. There are gaps in my memories, foggy edges that won't clear up, but I know enough to notice when something here doesn't quite match. Still, even if I don't remember where I'm from, one thing's clear: I don't want to be a failure. I don't know why those words hit so hard, like they carry leftover trauma from a past I can't recall—but they do...it give me emotional damage already. So yeah, I'm studying, observing, staying sharp, because I refuse to mess this life up. And while all this is going on in my head, Mrs. Blythe keeps glancing at us through the rearview mirror, clearly amused by the chaos in the backseat.
She loves seeing Lucy make friends, and honestly, who wouldn't be shocked at how far Lucy's come? Remember when we first met her? Back at Joel and Camille's wedding, when we were all just three—she was shy, awkward, barely looked anyone in the eye, and sat glued to her mom like a scared kitten. Total Hinata vibes. Fast-forward two years later, and now she's Miss Popular, shaking hands with random cashiers and getting waved at by strangers across the park. All thanks to me? Maybe. Kinda terrifying, honestly. Did I create a sociable monster..did i?
Anyway after seventeen minutes of listening to Gwen and Lucy's non-stop bickering and getting my ribs crushed every time we hit a bump in the road and my arm goes blue because they hold them to hard...ouch, we finally pull into one of Bellwood's biggest shopping centers. And when I say big, I mean huge—this place had everything from boutique clothing stores to arcades, manga cafés, and even a full-blown robotics showroom.
The second we walk in, Lucy grabs one of my hands, Gwen grabs the other, and both start yanking me in completely opposite directions,My blood circulation just started flowing—just right after you two hold my arms inside the cars like i was sort kind of Plushy, now you girls are trying to block them again?!. "Hey red-haired dweeb, me and Ben wanna go to the comic book store!" Lucy says loudly, clearly forgetting that this trip was supposed to be for school supplies. "That's my line, blondie!" Gwen shoots back, rolling her eyes and dragging me the other way. "I wanna bring Ben to the school supplies section! You forgot we're starting elementary school next week, huh, dummy?" Classic Gwen sass activated. I'm still impressed she developed this much sarcasm at five. But to be fair, growing up with Lucy's relentless pranks and jokes would do that to anyone.
They've been butting heads since Joel's wedding, and nothing's changed. Mrs. Blythe just watches us with that warm, knowing chuckle, as if this is all part of some sitcom she's secretly filming. "As always, you sure are popular with girls, Benjamin sweetie," she teases, clearly entertained by her daughter and Gwen fighting over me again. And I mean, what can I say? It's not like I ask for this kind of attention. Speaking about attention,you know how much time I'm studies the mann? I still can't believe how rich the Mann family is either—like, did I mention Mrs. Blythe works with NASA? And she's the one footing the bill for this whole outing? Yeah, pretty sure this is what people mean when they say "money is no object." Friendly, smart, loaded, and probably one of the top 10 coolest alien moms (also milf) in the universe,if i know any.
Eventually, they drag me through half the mall. I let them. I mean, it's not like I have a choice. Every time we enter a store, they immediately start debating over what I should pick. School supplies? They argue over which notebook design is better. Sneakers? Gwen says comfort, Lucy says color. I mostly just nod, choosing whatever's practical without making it obvious that I'm I'm thinking something deffrentlu. Thanks for my mana stays active beneath the surface, subtly improving my perception, keeping me calm, and storing every important bit of information in what basically feels like an endless internal database. They have no clue. They just think I'm being "cool big bro Ben," the unbothered, chill one who always makes the right call.
And again, I have to mention the irony—Lucy is a few months older than me, and Gwen? Seven seconds. And yet, I'm the "big bro" in their eyes. Don't ask me how that logic works. Anyway after about an hour and twenty-three minutes of this constant argumen between these two, we finally finish gathering everything we need—and then some other stuff beside school supplies. Like gwen walks out with a couple books she'll probably finish in a day, and Lucy's got two video games, three comics, and a mystery box from the anime store, and I've got myself a nice oversized pair of military green cargo pants. Not just any pants—these things are legit. Deep pockets, durable fabric, it look like same military cargo pants original Ben wear later on but more stylish,but this one its more stylish and comfortable. And i swear if they also put a utility belt attached, I wouldn't even question it. I grabbed a few other items too, some of which I'll keep to myself for now (a boy's gotta have secrets). And Mrs. Blythe? She paid for everything. No complaints. No second thoughts. Just a smile and a soft "you kids ready for school?" Honestly, if this is what life with generous person is like… I'm kinda loving it.
---
After we finished getting all the stuff we needed for elementary school, plus a few other things just for ourselves, Mrs. Blythe Mann said she'd treat us to lunch at a nearby restaurant inside the mall. We were halfway walking there when I started thinking again about how I could earn my own money for the future—specifically for an event that's gonna happen five years from now. Then I saw it. Just past the Hot Stuff clothing store near this old community bulletin board, I noticed a small stack of brightly colored flyers. I don't even know why I noticed it—maybe instinct, maybe enlightenment from asshole God that drop me here—but suddenly I was right in front of it, pulling one of the papers out without even thinking. I read it and froze.
"Competition to Generate Ideas for Television Shows and Comics! No Age Limit! Have a great story? A fun idea?
Submit your concept and win funding, you Will have full rights/royalties of your ideas, we gonna pay you for publication rights!"
I stared at it, eyes wide. My hands froze midair, and I just stood there reading it over and over. No age limit. Just a concept. Just an idea. Suddenly, something sparked inside my head. My lips curled into a grin without me even trying. This was it—this was my chance. A way in. I could use the knowledge I had from my previous life and create something no one would suspect. I could write and submit it under a pen name. Heck, if needed, I could even fake a guardian identity—but if Mom or Dad were chill about it, maybe I wouldn't need to fake anything at all.
I already had a hundred ideas stored in my brain—stuff from manga, manhwa, even novels I read in my past life. I could submit one of those and turn it into a show here. Whatever this version of TV is, this flyer was legit gold. My ticket in. (Sorry to the original creators, I'll make it up to y'all somehow.)
Without saying a word, I folded the flyer and quietly slipped it into my pocket. I was surprised Lucy and Gwen hadn't walked too far ahead while I stopped. I glanced up and saw Gwen showing Lucy this glitter pen she got, all sparkly like something from a fairy tale. Lucy wasn't impressed—she showed Gwen a superhero pencil case she got earlier from the school supply shop, but of course Gwen didn't care for that either. Seriously, these two bicker over the smallest stuff. Then Mrs. Blythe called us from the restaurant court she found. "Lucy, Gwen, Ben! Let's have lunch, they have delicious foods," she said in that warm motherly voice. "I'm coming, Mom! Ben, let's go," Lucy said, grabbing my arm with her left hand while holding her bag in the other. "Hey, wait for me!" Gwen whined, running after us with a pout because Lucy beat her to my side again. Meanwhile, I just smiled. Why? Because I had just found the answer. A real solution to the money problem I'd been stressing about. At the restaurant, we ate and honestly? Food never tasted better. Maybe it's because I was actually happy—like really, genuinely excited for once.
-----
Later that evening, I was back in my room, sitting on the floor surrounded by scribbled notes and random ideas, brainstorming what I should submit. I had a lot to choose from—some stuff was violent, some wholesome—but then I remembered something important. In the near future, once people start seeing my alien transformations, they're gonna freak out. They'll assume I'm some dangerous creature or a threat. That's when I remembered that guy—yeah, that guy. That news anchor who always hated Ben in the original timeline. The guy who treated aliens like monsters and tried to turn the whole world against me. Like a more annoying, anti-alien version of J. Jonah Jameson from Spider-Man. What was his name again? Will… Willington? No, no—ah, right. Will Harangue. Host of "Harangue Nation" and "The Harangue Show." He made it his mission to portray Ben as some menace to society, always spreading fear and lies. That's when it really hit me. I need to prevent that. I need to make a good public image for my alien transformations before anyone ever sees them in real life. So here's the plan—I'll submit my aliens as original cartoon or comic characters.
Different names, different settings, all part of a fun story. That way when people eventually see me transform i make their role as alien heroes, they'll recognize it from the show and not panic. They'll say, "Hey, that looks like the hero from that cartoon/comic!" And boom—problem solved. People will already be familiar with it. And if I can get people hooked early, I can also steer kids away from that lame franchise Sumo Slammers. I hate that show. Seriously. I hate that lame crap. Even Lucy said she doesn't like it. Time to make something better.
...
It's been a few days since I sent that letter—the one packed with ideas, concepts, and the kind of creative pitch only someone with a second lifetime's worth of stories could come up with. I wrote it on paper—yeah, paper—because the flyer didn't include any email address. Not even a fax number. Just a straight-up mailing address, like it was still the stone age of the internet. Suspicious? Absolutely. I mean, it's already the early 2000s, and they didn't even give a website? Red flags all over the place. I almost didn't send it. But a part of me—the part that knows how precious time is—decided to take the risk. I mean, what do I have to lose? If it was a scam, I'd just fall back on my backup protocol plans: newspaper boy, yard cleaner, lemonade stand operator, lawn mower—you name it. You think I'm joking? I may be five, but I've got the body of an eight-year-old and the mind of a college graduate. No one would question me. They'd probably think I was just a very ambitious kid who doesn't watch cartoons all day... well, I do, but for research now.
Then came the third week. A totally normal day. I was outside doing pushups with Gwen and Lucy, part of our daily training before we officially start elementary school next month. Grandpa Max was sitting off to the side in his usual beach chair, watching over us with that warm, laid-back energy. Same red Hawaiian shirt, same round belly that bounced a little when he chuckled. He's always there to offer advice or a correction—especially when Gwen gets too into her kicks and forgets to watch her stance. Lucy, on the other hand, kept trying to prank Gwen while pretending to do stretches. So yeah, the usual chaos. Then I heard it—my mom's voice from the house. "Ben, sweety, come in quick, you got something here!" I froze mid-pushup. My heart skipped. No way... it couldn't be, right? I got up slowly, trying to act casual even though my brain was already jumping into hyperspeed. Grandpa Max saw the look on my face and handed me a towel, smiling like he knew exactly what was going through my head—he probably though something my parents brough for me that make me excited as five year old...nah you ain't read ma'mind Granms. "Here you go, Ben. You need to wipe that sweat off first, kiddo." I nodded quickly and took it, rubbing my face and arms while glancing back at the girls. "Thanks, Grandpa. I'll be right back. Could you keep an eye on those two?" I pointed toward Gwen and Lucy, who were still at it—Gwen doing her kicks, Lucy setting up some prank behind her with a goofy grin on her face.
"Aaaagh!? You banana peel! You made me miss my target!" Gwen yelled as she spun around, glaring at Lucy—who was already snorting with laughter after pulling her usual prank. "Psyche! Oop—pffrrr—hahaha! Got you again, Gwen, heheh!" Lucy teased, half-running, half-skipping as Gwen chased after her, and the two immediately began mocking each other while running in circles like hyperactive squirrels on sugar. I sighed, already feeling the headache kick in. "Sigh… Grandpa…" I muttered, glancing tiredly at the old man lounging comfortably on a bench chair nearby. He chuckled, not even a bit concerned about the chaos in front of him. "Hahaha, don't worry, Ben. I'll keep an eye on them. Go on, your mom's calling you inside," he said with that usual calm tone, like nothing could faze him. Oh, you calm old man. Just wait. Let's see how relaxed you are when you're trapped in your RV with these two ten-year-olds five years from now, bickering over literally nothing while you're trying to drive across state lines. From that alone, you'll understand the hell I'm already living through as a five-year-old with the mind of a twenty-year-old stuck in the middle of two overly energetic girls and their non-stop arguments. Yeah… I'd better go before this turns into a wrestling match.
Stepping into the house through the wide glass door that connected the backyard to the kitchen, I immediately noticed my mom standing by the counter. From where she stood, she could still see the chaos outside—Lucy and Gwen shrieking, Grandpa Max supervising with a smile like everything was perfectly fine. But her face was different. Confused. Cautious. She was holding something in her hand like it was cursed. "Ben… sweetie, you got… mail?" she said slowly, blinking at me like I'd just told her I got into college. And to be fair, her confusion made sense. What mom wouldn't be confused when their five-year-old son suddenly received a letter out of nowhere? Especially when that letter came in a sleek black envelope with silver lining, sealed with wax like it came from a secret society or the wizarding world. Yeah—definitely suspicious. "Wait… no way. They really?" I muttered, not finishing the sentence as I gently took the envelope from her hand, my heart already racing. That only made her more worried. She didn't know. Of course, she didn't know—I never told her I submitted anything. The last time I mentioned anything remotely related to this was that day at the mall with Lucy's mom. She had seen me grin at that flyer, but said nothing (seriously the woman is very sharp—notices anything ). And now? I was about to find out whether my insane plan worked. I broke the seal and started reading. Word by word. Line by line. Then it hit me. My hands started trembling, but not from fear—from pure joy. My grin widened. The letter was real. It was legit. I couldn't hold it in. My smile warped into something that would've made Lloyd Frontera proud (image Lloyd ugly face).
"YAHAHAHAHA!!" I let out a laugh so evil and victorious, it made my mom jump. Sandra Finch, my dear sweet mom, just stared at me—half-shocked, half-concerned—while her five-year-old son cackled like a cartoon villain in the middle of the kitchen.
I couldn't stop laughing—like full-on maniac laughter—until a few minutes later I finally managed to calm myself down. I glanced at her with a gentle smile, the kind of innocent smile you give when you know you just did something completely insane. She looked confused, her brows scrunched, waiting for an explanation. So I told her everything. About that day when Lucy, her mom, Gwen, and I went to the mall to shop for elementary school supplies. How I stumbled across a flyer for this competition, how the idea hit me like a lightning bolt, and how I mailed my submission a few weeks ago—without telling anyone. I even told her the half-lie I used to cover it up, saying I was bored and sent it just for fun or as a prank. I expected her to react in her usual way, maybe say "Awww" or tease me a bit, maybe give me that proud-but-trying-not-to-show-it kind of smile. But nah. Her face went from surprised, to amused, to full-on unhinged in less than five seconds. Her smile twitched into something feral, and then— "YOU WHAAAAAAAT!!!" she screamed like a banshee straight from hell. I mean, I get it. I submitted the damn thing behind everyone's back, no parental permission, nothing. The shout was so loud that Grampa Max, who was outside keeping an eye on the girls in the backyard, literally jolted and spit his coffee all over the grass. He turned his head toward the house with wide eyes like he'd just heard gunfire. Lucy and Gwen, mid-bickering outside, both froze and stared into the house like something exploded. I had to cover my ears, man....i think i know what i'll get after this.
"BENJAMIN KIRBY TENNYSON!! You… are in BIG TROUBLE, MISTER!!" she shouted, full-blown mom mode activated. And okay, technically I wasn't scared—mentally, I'm still in my twenties, right? But my body? My instincts? Yeah, those five-year-old reflexes kicked in fast and made me take a cautious step back. "M-Mom, come on… I-I can explain!" I tried, hands up, voice cracking a little. "Explain WHAT?! You did all this without me knowing? Without me or your Dad knowing? Are you out of your mind?!" Her voice was sharp and full of that serious motherly fire. I swear I wasn't scared… okay, maybe a little. Then Grandpa Max, who had been watching the girls outside from his usual bench in that red Hawaiian shirt now stained with the coffee he'd spit out earlier, stood up with a groan and hurried into the house. "What happened?! Sandra, is everything okay?" he asked, confused but worried. "Fine?? FINE?! You think this is fine, Max?!" she snapped, calling him by his actual name. You know it's bad when your daughter-in-law stops calling you 'Dad' and switches to your first name. That's a red flag right there. She snatched the letter from my hands and practically slammed it into Grandpa Max's. "Here! Read this!" she barked. Grandpa took it with his usual calm, then began reading it word by word, just like I had earlier. At first, confusion, then his expression softened into pure surprise. "Oh I'll be da—dang… hahah! Little Ben's work is getting published? As a comic and a cartoon series?! That's amazing!" he said, glancing at me proudly with that warm, twinkly grandpa smile. "Yeah, awesome—if he'd talked to us first!" my mom snapped, still furious but now with her voice trembling. Just then, Lucy and Gwen came jogging in, still sweating from training and mid-argument—something about Lucy pulling a prank and Gwen chasing her across the yard. "What do you mean, Sandra? Did you already know about this?" Grandpa Max asked, puzzled, glancing at my mom. "NO! I didn't!" she nearly shouted. "That's why I'm mad! He's five, Max! Five! For God's sake, and he's already pulling this kind of stuff?! Training every day, pushing himself—yes, we support him, but we worry, too! And now this?! Submitting ideas to some unknown company from a flyer we didn't know or see him grab? Without telling me or Carl anything? That's too much, Dad!" Her voice cracked, and I saw it. Her eyes—those bright green eyes—glassing over, blinking fast, and then… the tears started. Not the dramatic ones, but the kind that sting when they fall slow. And just like that, I felt the guilt punch me in the chest...her knees fell down to the floor while covering her face which was streaming with tears..."when it go wrong,...sniff...sniff...a-are we an horroble parents?...i-im bad mother?"those word stabbing me like hundred knifes to my chest.
The first time i see my mom cry was that one time i awake my anodite Sparks when i was three month old she were panic same goes with my dad when i was suddenly unconscious and now i see her the second time crying..I feel guilty, with the room was heavy...
Grandpa max knelt slowly beside my Mom—as she fell to the floor, her knees hitting the tile with a soft thud. Her sobs were raw and broken, muffled behind trembling hands that covered her face. I stared at my mom—Sandra Tennyson—kneeling on the floor, sobbing into her hands. Her usually sharp, bright green eyes were now red and watery, her blonde hair tangled and falling down over her face like a curtain trying to hide her pain....
I've seen people cry before in my previous life—even though their faces, their voices, were something I couldn't remember anymore. But the sadness they showed to me was always real. I've even caused some of them to cry in those lives—through guilt, regret, anger. But this? This was different. It is different. This woman wasn't some side character, some extra in my story. She was my mom. The woman who risked her life giving birth to me. The woman who always kept an eye on me when I was just a baby in a crib, never sleeping properly, constantly checking on me. The woman who loved me and spoiled me even when I didn't ask for it, who carried my weight when I couldn't stand on my own. And now—because of me—this woman, the one who loves me unconditionally, is crying for the second time because of my own stupidity. God… I don't think. I never think before I act! How fucking dumb can I be? I'm a child—sure—but I'm a shameless little piece of shit toward my own mother...
"…Sandra, calm down," Grandpa Max said, stepping in beside her. His voice was firm, steady, but gentle. "Ben is a child full of curiosity. He wants to explore and learn. He's still growing, Sandra. He's trying to figure things out. Of course he's going to push boundaries." He put his hand on her shoulder with a small squeeze. "You've done nothing wrong. You're a good mother to Ben."
She didn't say anything at first—just kept sobbing, her body shaking, her face still buried in her palms. The weight in my chest only got heavier. Not quite guilt, not entirely regret... but some twisted mix of both, clogging up my throat, making it hard to breathe.
"…Mom," I whispered, stepping forward, reaching out to the edge of her sleeve, tugging at it gently. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."
Her eyes peeked out from between her fingers—red, swollen, wet with tears. Her breath hitched the second our eyes met.
I took a deep breath, pushing my mana into my bloodstream, focusing it on my brain to stay calm. I needed to think, not panic. I needed to say what mattered—truthfully, softly, and real. My voice wavered slightly, but I kept it together.
"I… I just wanted to do something that felt precious to me," I started, glancing down at my fingers, pretending to fidget like a normal kid would. "Like a hobby. Like making comics or stories, even if I'm not really good at it. I know it sounds dumb, and maybe I did it just for giggles or out of boredom. But part of me wanted to start something. Something that's mine."
I looked up at her again, this time a little more serious.
"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you or Dad about it. I should have. I really should've put you two more into my life instead of hiding things. I know I've been acting weird… doing weird training, learning weird stuff, talking like I'm not five. I don't act like Gwen or Lucy—always bouncing off the walls and picking fights. I don't throw tantrums or get wild. I guess… I guess I just wanted to feel like I wasn't empty. That I wasn't just drifting."
And then I channeled just a thin string of mana—a gentle, almost invisible thread—enough to wrap the space around us in something soft. Something warm. Like a blanket. Emotional manipulation? Yeah, maybe. But this time… it wasn't to get my way. It was to make things right.
Her breathing started to slow down. She stared at me—long, hard, her eyes filled with everything from love to confusion to fear.
"…Ben," she said quietly. "You talk like you're older than five."
I gave her a small, sheepish smile. "Maybe I read too many books."
She let out a wet chuckle through her tears. And then, finally, she pulled me into her arms—tight, desperate. Like I was something slipping through her fingers and she didn't want to let go.
"I'm just scared," she admitted, her voice muffled against my shoulder. "You're my baby, Ben. You're growing up so fast. It's… it's hard to keep up sometimes."
I didn't know how to respond at first. Her words hit me harder than I expected. Even with mana flowing through me, trying to keep my emotions steady… her voice broke through it. It made my chest tighten.
So I just hugged her back. Silently.
In another life… maybe I would've kept walking. Maybe I would've just watched, helpless, as a mother cried for a son that didn't know how to comfort her. I don't remember her—my mother from that life—but I remember she cried. And I remember I couldn't help her.
But this life—this world? I'm someone's child. Her child. And that means something now.
"…It's okay to be scared, Mom," I said quietly. "But I'm still here. I'm still your son. And I still need you and Dad in my life… until I'm old enough to take care of myself."
She didn't say anything right away. Just nodded slowly, her arms trembling as they held onto me. A moment later, she let out a laugh—a real one—between sniffles.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Grandpa Max smile, watching us with soft eyes. His shoulders relaxed, like a weight was finally lifted off them.
Lucy and Gwen were still by the glass door to the backyard, looking in confused. They didn't know what the hell just happened. Lucy tilted her head, brows scrunched. Gwen, though… she smiled. Just a little. Watching me hug Mom like that, she seemed... happy seeing Made up with my mom.
After while My mother released her hug from me, she chuckled as she wiped the tears from her green eyes — she fixed her blonde hair back, and looked at me, this time with a her usual motherly smile. "Ben...next time.. please talk to me or your dad, if you want to do something ...ok?.. promise?" She say with most warm tone i ever hear,i nodde"ok mom...im promise?"i said while hug her again,she then return the hug. Even though that just couple minuts."still we gonna have long talk with this after you dad come home,you understand mister?"she say with smile, i just shrug and nodde.
After a while, my mother finally released me from the hug, chuckling softly as she wiped the tears from her green eyes. She tucked her blonde hair back behind her ears and looked at me with that familiar, gentle motherly smile I was used to seeing. "Ben… next time, please talk to me or your dad if you want to do something… okay? Promise?" she asked, her voice the warmest I had ever heard it. I nodded quickly, hugging her again. "Okay, Mom… I promise," I said, and she returned the hug, squeezing me one more time. Even if it was just for a couple of minutes, it felt like the kind of hug I would remember for the rest of my life. "Still," she said with a little smirk as she pulled back, "we're going to have a long talk after your dad comes home. You understand, mister?" I just shrugged and nodded again, not exactly thrilled about that part, but I couldn't complain. At least she wasn't crying anymore.
I was glad everything was back to normal… or at least close enough. Then Grandpa Max stepped forward, still holding the letter and mail in his hand. "Hey, champ," he said gently, "not to ruin the moment, but it says here you'll need to sign the contract to get full rights and royalties for your ideas. That way, you'll get paid properly." I nodded, already expecting that. "Yeah, I need to sign it officially to start making money from the comics and cartoons based on my ideas. The only problem is… I'm five. So I need a legal guardian to go with me." But before I could say another word, Gwen and Lucy both shouted at the same time: "COMIC!? / CARTOON!?" The two girls—both five, both chaotic in different ways—looked absolutely shocked, especially Lucy. She stared at me with wide, sparkling blue eyes, full of admiration. "Ben! Ben! You made a comic!? Why didn't you tell me?!" she said with a huge smile, her blonde hair bouncing as she jumped excitedly, the little whisker-like marks on her cheeks making her look even more energetic than usual. Meanwhile, Gwen—my ginger-haired cousin—looked at me with those big green eyes of hers and grabbed my arm, jumping up and down like Lucy was contagious. "When did you make it?! Did you already submit it!? Why didn't you tell me?! I wanted to help too!!" Her enthusiasm was totally uncharacteristic from her usual sassy, sarcastic, bossy personality… at least when dealing with Lucy. With me, Gwen acted more like a little sister trying to impress her big brother—something I was slowly starting to enjoy, even if I didn't admit it. "You? Helping, Gwen? Pffft—hahaha! That's funny!" Lucy teased, sticking out her tongue. "Agh! Shut up, dweeb! You're so annoying!" Gwen snapped back, already glaring at her like usual. I sighed and took a deep breath to calm myself before the two of them broke into another screaming match right in front of everyone.
I looked back at Mom and tried to explain the situation more clearly. "So yeah… I need a guardian to go sign the contract. Even though the flyer says there's no age limit for submissions, I still legally need an adult with me. So… how is it, Mom?" She looked thoughtful, then her expression softened with a bit of regret. "Ben, I wish I could go with you, but I can't drive that far, honey. We only have one car right now, and your dad's using it to get to work. He's been super busy lately too." I looked down, disappointed for a second, until Grandpa Max stepped in again with a casual grin. "I'll go with him," he said without hesitation. My head snapped up. "You sure, Grandpa?" Mom looked surprised too. "you sure,dad? Well yeah Ben is right dad—i mean… I don't want to bother you, especially after everything that just happened…" she said, clearly still feeling a little guilty after breaking down and yelling in front of him earlier. But Max just laughed, waving it off. "Hahaha, it's alright, Sandra. Parents getting upset at their kids is completely normal. Believe me, I yelled at Carl and Frank plenty of times when they were young. It happens. But this? This is something I want to do. I'll go with Ben, no problem," he said with that calm, supportive grandpa smile that somehow made everything feel okay again. "I wanna go too! I wanna see Ben sign the contract!" Lucy chimed in immediately, eyes gleaming with excitement. Of course, Gwen wouldn't let herself fall behind. "Me too! I don't want Ben being stuck with this annoying yellow-haired dweeb the whole time!" she huffed, not letting Lucy outdo her. Oh boy… this was gonna be a long trip.
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O...M...K...EEE!!!
OMAKE! OMAKE! OMAKEEEEEEEE!
(author:heheheh~ :3)
Title:"WHAT A MARVELOUS IDEA!"
Inside the towering headquarters of Norva-Sparkri Comics & Toons, nestled in the heart of the bustling city, a storm of frustration brewed behind the frosted glass doors of the executive creative suite. Anton Ghotem Flint, the 36-year-old creative director—known across the industry for discovering the Sumor Slamers franchise—sat at his massive desk looking utterly unimpressed. Stacks of manila folders, fan submissions, and contest entries lay before him like a battlefield of failed ideas. Anton, an African-American man with a sharp suit, expressive brows, and the soul of a fanboy still buried under years of corporate polish, dragged a hand down his face and let out a groan. "Why is it all the same junk?" he muttered, flicking away another folder like it personally offended him. "How many versions of 'Elemental Robot Ninjas' do we need?"
At that moment, his assistant—Mrs. Arlin Quinsy, 29 years old, efficient to the core with her clipboard always in hand—entered the office with the last batch of entries. She sighed as she placed the final tray on his desk. "That's the last of them, boss. If none of these are it, I guess we move forward with that 'Cyber Yeti Force' or 'furry fury power' pitch from marketing."
Anton gave her a slow, exaggerated glare. "If I greenlight Cyber Yeti Force or furry fury power, I want you to personally lock me in the broom closet and throw away the key."
Arlin smirked. "Well, let's hope a miracle's hiding in that pile then." She turned to leave, but then paused. "Oh, by the way… there's this one odd letter that almost got tossed. Looked more like a kid's drawing than an actual pitch. Alien doodle on the envelope, no return address beyond 'Bellwood'. Thought I'd leave it for laughs."
Anton arched a brow and glanced at the envelope she indicated. It was messy, crumpled, and had a hand-drawn alien face on the front. The corners were bent, the seal barely holding. "hand Drew alien face?, huh?" he murmured, more curious than he wanted to admit. "Well, can't be worse than the rest."
He tore it open and pulled out seventeen sheets of paper, each one handwritten with surprisingly neat penmanship. There were clear character bios—aliens with names like Hotwave (heatblast), Meneral Knight (diamond head), RedRiot (four arm), and Brainphibian (grey matter). Each came with a little hand-drawn portrait, a description of their powers, their home planet, weaknesses, and even personality quirks. On page four, he found the concept of a mysterious glowing stick—called the hape—that gave a young human the ability to transform into these heroes through a magical bonding process. There was lore, backstory, even a few episode-like outlines of what could be a cartoon arc. At the bottom of the final page was the author's name:
"From: Benjamin Kirby Tennyson, Age 5, Bellwood."
Anton blinked. He read it again. Then again. Then once more.
A silence fell over the room.
Then suddenly, his eyes lit up like someone had just flipped a thousand-words
Anton stood from his seat so fast that his chair rolled back and crashed softly against the wall behind him. He held the 17 pages of Ben's idea in his hands like it was a long-lost treasure map, eyes gleaming with passion he hadn't felt in years.
"Mrs. Quinsy!" he barked, his deep voice booming through the hallway.
The elderly yet sharp secretary flinched at her desk just outside his office, but quickly shuffled in with her pad and pen.
"Yes, Mr. Flint?"
"Get me the marketing team! No—scratch that. Get me copyright, legal, design, R&D, and call up that sorry executive producer who said aliens don't sell—tell him to start praying for forgiveness." He was pacing now, fanning the pages out like a gambler with a royal flush.
Mrs. Quinsy adjusted her glasses, curious. "May I ask what has caused this... outburst, Mr. Flint?"
Anton stopped dead in his tracks and whipped around. "Mrs. Quinsy... I have seen the light! I have read the divine scripture, and it came from the hands of a boy in Bellwood. A BOY!"
He waved the letter in front of her with theatrical flair. "Seventeen pages of unfiltered creativity. Aliens, heroes, intergalactic responsibility, a device that transforms you into the thing you fight—not just muscles or lasers, but empathy in motion, identity, diversity! Do you know how marketable this is?!"
"Marvelous," he whispered again. "Marvelous, marvelous, MARVELOUS!"
Mrs. Quinsy raised one brow. "So... it's a winner then?"
Anton threw both hands in the air. "Winner? This is the franchise! The new face of the company! Forget the Sumor Slamers—we're entering a new era! Call this—call this... 'Hero from Outworld'!"
He turned, pointing dramatically toward the old wooden box they used for special deliveries. "Get the ceremonial envelope, the black one with the silver lining. I want it sealed with our wax—red! Use the good candle this time, the one with the cinnamon scent! And make sure the letter says this exactly—write this down, Quinsy!"he said with joyfull smile why keep saying "marvelous! marvelous!" More then 10 Times.
From that the "Hero from outworld" become sensational, beating the fame of Sumor Slamers.
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Author here...sorry with this another yapping chapter, and now I'm start lagging when write this bruh...
Bye name see you in another chapter i don't how long it is :b , seriously im lagging so bad...
Imma playing immamusume as usual or read manhwa bye bye!