What puzzled Adrian the most was—why had his golden finger only appeared now?
The answer came quickly.
In the depths of his consciousness, a translucent panel unfolded before his eyes. At once, his doubts began to clear.
---
System: Upgrade Point System
Host: Adrian Leonhart
Current World: Attack on Titan
Constitution: 0.3
Points: 1 (0%)
Skills: Cooking LV0, Fighting LV0, Forging LV0...
---
Adrian studied the information carefully, and understanding dawned on him.
The system's function was simple. By eating food, he could accumulate progress. Each time the bar reached 100%, he would gain one point. Those points could then be used to strengthen his body—or to upgrade his skills.
A note at the bottom clarified:
(For reference: the constitution of an ordinary adult man is set at 1.)
Adrian's brows furrowed as he realized why his cheat had remained dormant all these years. It wasn't that the system hadn't existed—it was simply that his food intake had been far too low to trigger it.
Relief washed over him. So the golden finger had always been there, waiting.
At the same time, the truth revealed just how difficult it was to earn points. Eight years of hardship, and he had only now gained his first one.
Food scarcity was the culprit. He had barely survived on one meal a day, often going to sleep hungry. As a child, his stomach was small, his appetite limited, and the scraps he ate in the Underground City carried little energy.
The system's design made sense. To grow stronger, he had to feed himself properly. Food was the key to survival.
Scrolling further, he found the skill level descriptions:
---
LV0 – A skill you have touched but cannot truly use.
LV1 – Equivalent to 10 years of practice.
LV2 – 20 years of practice.
LV3 – 30 years of practice.
...
LV10 – 100 years of practice. (Peak of human ability. Anything beyond LV10 is extraordinary.)
(Note: All skill experience is based on real, practical training—not theory.)
---
Adrian's lips tightened. So every level represented hard-earned experience, compressed into an instant upgrade.
But of course, nothing came free. The instructions for upgrading were clear:
LV0 → LV1 required 1 point.
LV1 → LV2 required 2 points.
…
LV9 → LV10 required 10 points.
And for constitution, each point could raise his physical fitness by one whole level.
That meant:
Option one: Spend his single point to upgrade a skill, instantly gaining ten years' worth of expertise.
Option two: Strengthen his body, raising his constitution to the level of an ordinary adult man.
Adrian didn't hesitate for long.
"Add it to physique."
Ding!
> Congratulations, host. Constitution +1.
A rush of warmth surged through his limbs and bones. His frail body felt different, fuller, alive. The loose shirt he wore tightened as if his frame had expanded, and the hollow weakness that had plagued him since birth melted away.
Strength. Real strength.
For someone who had once lived as an adult, the eight years of weakness had been torture. To go from a man to an embryo, then a helpless infant, to spend years at the mercy of others—it had been agony.
But now, for the first time since crossing into this world, he felt whole again.
Adrian pulled up his panel once more.
---
Host: Adrian Leonhart
Current World: Attack on Titan
Constitution: 1.3
Points: 0 (0%)
Skills: Cooking LV0, Fighting LV0, Forging LV0...
---
He briefly considered upgrading a life skill to earn a living. But in the end, he shook his head. This world was brutal, unforgiving. Only strength could protect him. Only power could ensure survival.
At eight years old, what he needed most was the ability to defend himself.
Now, with the constitution of a grown man—slightly beyond, even—he felt safer. At least against ordinary thugs in the Underground, he wouldn't be completely helpless anymore.
For the first time, possibilities unfolded before his eyes.
Get food.
Earn points.
Grow stronger.
That would be his path.
The bitterness that had lingered on Adrian's face for so long finally eased away, replaced by the faintest trace of confidence.
From the corner of the room, Levi peeked at him curiously.
"Big brother looks… different," the boy whispered to himself.
Could it be true? Had Adrian really thought of a way to keep them fed, just like he promised?
Levi's sharp eyes caught subtle changes—the way Adrian now stood taller, his posture straighter, each step firm and steady. A quiet confidence radiated from him.
And Levi had also noticed something else. Earlier, when Adrian smiled at him, there had been a hidden trace of pain. Levi hadn't said anything—he didn't want to worry his big brother—but he had seen it.
Now, watching Adrian clear the table with calm determination, Levi's nose stung and his chest tightened.
He always called Adrian "boss." But in his heart, Adrian had long since become his older brother.
And even in their darkest days, Adrian still found ways to encourage him.