Note: This chapter is very unimportant and unrelated to the story; I only added it as a change of pace instead of torturing poor Arthur every time.
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After a single day of rest, I woke long before dawn.
The room was still wrapped in darkness when my eyes opened, the faint glow of the status interface blinking briefly in the corner of my vision before fading away. I glanced at the time out of habit.
04:45 AM.
A quarter to five.
Earlier than necessary—yet somehow fitting.
Sleep had come easily last night, heavier than I expected, dragging me under without resistance. Too easily. Too deeply. And that alone was enough to wake me early, an old instinct whispering that comfort was something to be wary of.
I rose quietly from the bed, careful not to make a sound. The house was silent, wrapped in the peaceful stillness that only existed before sunrise. Everyone else was still asleep, lost in a rest they clearly deserved.
Training came later today.
But preparation… that began now.
I headed toward the kitchen, moving with the quiet familiarity of someone used to navigating unfamiliar places before the world woke up. They had told me I could treat this place as my own home.
I hadn't refused.
After all—who says no to free hospitality?
The kitchen lights flickered on softly. Clean. Organized. Comfortable.
I opened the fridge.
Nothing.
Not "almost nothing."
Not "just a few leftovers."
Nothing at all.
Empty shelves. No vegetables. No meat. No condiments.
I stared at the hollow interior for a few seconds, then let out a slow sigh and closed the door. So that was how it was. Either someone forgot to restock… or someone assumed someone else would handle it.
Either way, it wasn't a problem.
I decided to head to the nearby village and buy supplies myself. Quick. Efficient. Quiet.
Just as I turned away—
"You woke up early, I see."
I froze.
Then turned toward the voice—
—and nearly choked.
Heat rushed straight to my face, crawling up my neck before I could stop it.
Celestia stood there.
Not in her usual composed attire.
Not in robes or formal clothes.
Sleepwear.
Light. Revealing. Far too revealing for an early morning surprise.
Loose fabric clung where it shouldn't, outlining curves far too generously, her posture relaxed in the careless way of someone who hadn't expected company. Her hair was slightly messy, cascading freely over her shoulders, and her expression held mild curiosity mixed with faint amusement.
Very dangerous amusement.
I forced my gaze upward immediately, mentally slapping myself back into control. I had never been in a situation like this before. Not like this. Not with someone who looked like that and spoke so casually at this hour.
So I did the only thing I could.
I defaulted to formality.
"Good morning, Lady Celestia," I said awkwardly. "Yes… I woke up early since I slept too much. I was heading to the nearby village to buy some supplies."
"Supplies?"
She walked past me, opened the fridge, and stared inside. Her shoulders slumped almost immediately. One hand rose to her face as she exhaled slowly, a mixture of resignation and annoyance crossing her expression.
"…I see."
She closed the fridge, then turned back to me.
"Wait for me," she said. "I'll come with you. I have something to do there as well."
I nodded without hesitation.
No objections. No questions.
I retreated upstairs to change.
The system suggested simple clothing—practical and unremarkable. I accepted without complaint. Black pants. A clean white shirt that fit perfectly. Comfortable. Neutral.
Then came the rest.
A wristwatch.
Hair tied neatly into a bun.
A mask.
A cap.
Sunglasses.
Complete concealment.
Sure, there were advanced tools capable of altering facial features permanently or temporarily. But those things were absurdly expensive—and worse, traceable. Buying one through the International Bank would be the fastest way to announce my identity to anyone who cared to look.
So I settled for the tried-and-true method.
The disguise style favored by kidnappers, stalkers, and people who didn't want to be remembered.
When I came back downstairs, Celestia was already waiting.
She had changed into loose jeans and a sleek, glossy black shirt that hugged her figure just enough to make it impossible not to notice. Her hair was styled now—simple, elegant, and deliberately eye-catching.
She raised an eyebrow the moment she saw me.
"…Are you some kind of celebrity?" she asked. "Hiding your face like that?"
"Trust me," I replied calmly. "This is for the best."
She studied me for a moment longer, then shrugged and stepped outside.
Once outside, she pulled out a strangely shaped key—far too complex to be mundane—and tapped it lightly against the air.
The space in front of us distorted.
Then a motorcycle materialized.
Sleek. Beautifully engineered. Dark metal accented with glowing lines that pulsed faintly like a living organism.
I stared.
When she noticed my reaction, she smiled.
"What do you think?" she asked. "Beautiful, right?"
I surprised even myself with how quickly excitement slipped into my voice.
"Yes," I admitted. "It's incredible."
I climbed on behind her, gripping the rear handle firmly.
Then—
We were gone.
The motorcycle surged forward with explosive acceleration, wind tearing past us as the scenery blurred into streaks of color. My eyes sparkled the entire ride, instincts and curiosity igniting all at once.
Speed. Control. Precision.
It was perfect.
Less than three minutes later, we reached the village.
There was a brief inspection at the entrance, but Celestia's identity resolved everything instantly. Respect. Recognition. Doors opening without resistance.
We entered the marketplace.
I took charge of the shopping without realizing it. Vegetables. Meat. Bread. Spices. Quantities calculated automatically in my head. Celestia simply followed, watching with mild curiosity as I examined each item carefully.
After two baskets were filled, we headed to the cashier.
The wait was dull enough that I asked her to teach me how to use the phone properly. She seemed amused by my unfamiliarity, guiding me through functions I pretended not to already understand.
When it was time to pay—
She did it first.
I didn't stop her.
Honestly, I was relieved. It eased a small portion of the guilt that lingered whenever I spent money that technically wasn't mine.
By the time we left the store, the sun was already high in the sky.
Nearly 9 AM.
I asked as we stepped outside,
"So,what do you want to do now? You said you had work here."
She sighed lightly.
"Indeed. While you were busy shopping, I went to the office and collected the documents I needed. You didn't notice my absence—too occupied with your… unique way of choosing vegetables."
I coughed awkwardly.
"Sorry. Old habit. I used to do that to avoid being scammed."
She stiffened slightly, hands fidgeting unconsciously. Regret flickered across her expression—she hadn't meant to remind me of my past.
"…Let's go back," she said softly. "We need to wake up those lazy ones."
The ride back was silent.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… unspoken.
When we entered the house, the twins greeted us enthusiastically. They had just woken up and were visibly excited to see me again. I smiled brightly at them, earning a faint blush from both Roselyn and Celestia.
I headed to the kitchen. Everyone followed.
Curious.
I laid out the ingredients and began.
Soaking vegetables.
Peeling potatoes.
Cutting with careful, precise motions.
No chopping. No stabbing. Just clean, deliberate slices.
Years of experience guided my hands. When I worked as a bodyguard, cooking was mandatory. Cleaning. Maintenance. Survival skills.
And another reason…
I never trusted anyone else to cook for me.
The oil heated. I checked the temperature.
Roselyn blinked.
"…Since when do we have a temperature gauge?"
No one answered.
The children watched silently, captivated by my movements. The women's gazes shifted between my hands and my face—admiration clear in their eyes.
When the meal was done, the table was already set.
Steak.
Potato sauce.
Toasted bread.
Simple. Perfect.
Everyone ate happily.
I didn't.
I watched the twins laugh with their sister.
And sadness crept into my chest.
I placed my fork down and stared at my plate.
My sister…
Unconscious.
And here I was—eating.
Ding—
[Body Synchronization Rate: 57.18%]
Celestia noticed.
"If you keep thinking like this," she said firmly, "you'll never reach anything. This isn't luxury—it's a beginning. After we finish, training starts. We'll shape you. Prepare you to enter the academy."
I raised my head and met her gaze.
No warmth.
But understanding.
And that was enough.
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