Antarctica had taught him many things. Strength was one of them.
Next time, he intended to be strong enough that survival wouldn't need to depend upon luck or the contents of the System Shop.
Shaking his head, Stan forced those thoughts from his mind and returned his attention to the mirror before him.
The skin along his chest and arms was flawless in the specific way that skin was only flawless in photographs or on the cover of a fashion magazine. Every small imperfection he had lived with since adolescence had quietly disappeared. The small scar along his ribs from a childhood bike accident had been smoothed away entirely, while the faint stress lines that had begun gathering at the corners of his eyes over the past year of life in Wanhai simply weren't there anymore.
