The heavy ceramic bowl hit the bottom of the sink with a loud clatter, wiping clean the last remnants of spicy beef broth and extra fried dumplings.
Asterius stretched his arms above his head, his spine popping in a quick rhythm that made Ellen glance up from her phone on the couch with a slight smirk.
“Going to pass out now, big guy?” Ellen drawled, lazily swirling the rest of her fruit tea.
“All that heavy talk about the brutal wilderness and survival of the fittest, and a single bowl of takeout knocks you flat?”
“Far from it,” Asterius replied smoothly, drying his hands on a dish towel hanging near the sink.
He gave his knuckles a brief stretch—feeling the subtle hum of vitality coursing cleanly through his freshly aligned meridian channels.
“I’m going out for a walk.
Just taking a quick stroll around the neighborhood to stretch my legs.”
Ellen raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes scanning him with that newly awakened curiosity she had displayed since he walked downstairs.
“A walk?
At seven in the evening?
You haven’t left the house after dark without looking like an anxious stray cat since middle school.”
“Well,” Asterius said, flashing a faint smile that carried a trace of ancient confidence, “people change.
Don’t lock the door.”
Stepping out onto the front porch, the cool evening air hit him like a refreshing wash of ice water.
The sky had bruised into a deep violet, streaked with the neon pink glow of low-flying commercial transports humming quietly through the upper atmosphere.
Even though he possessed every single fragment of Ceres’s memories—every street corner, every cracked pavement slab, every flickering streetlight mapped out in vivid detail—experiencing it firsthand through his own physical senses was a radically different feeling.
To an ancient soul who had spent his former life surrounded by grand stone fortresses, blood-soaked battlefields, and dangerous mystical realms, this mundane modern landscape was nothing short of a surreal masterpiece.
He strolled down the concrete sidewalk, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his dark trousers.
The neighborhood was alive with the simple rhythm of evening life.
He passed a group of young teenagers laughing under the glow of a streetlamp, their wrist-comm displays projecting holographic clips into the air.
A middle-aged man walked a bizarre, genetically modified hound that glowed a faint fluorescent green in the dark.
An older woman watering her porch plants paused, staring at him with a puzzled expression, clearly recognizing Ceres’s face but completely baffled by the tall, upright, and casually dominant posture of the boy walking past her gate.
*Mundane life,* Asterius thought, a faint smile touching his lips.
*No beast tides breaking down the outer walls.
No spatial rifts opening in the sky.
Just people living.*
A short distance down the main avenue, the bright LED sign of a twenty-four-hour convenience store hummed softly, casting a warm yellow light across the pavement.
Asterius felt a small spark of curiosity flare in his chest.
In Ceres’s memories, this store was a haven of overly processed, hyper-flavored snacks and carbonated energy drinks—things that sounded entirely absurd to an ancient swordsman who used to chew on dry monster meat and fermented spirit herbs just to survive.
“Let’s see what this civilization considers delicacies,” Asterius muttered to himself, taking a step toward the glass double doors.
“Well, well, well…
look who decided to crawl out of his hole!”
Asterius stopped dead in his tracks.
It came from the shadowed mouth of a side alley right next to the convenience store.
Asterius turned his head slowly.
The moment his eyes locked onto the three figures leaning against the brick wall, a wave of cold clarity settled over his mind.
The subtle warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by an icy, predatory stillness that could freeze boiling water.
Ceres’s memories surged forward like a toxic flood.
*Kendricks.*
Standing in the center was a thick-necked, heavy-set youth with a permanent sneer plastered across his face.
Kendricks—a notorious neighborhood parasite.
He was currently sitting at the 5th stage of Foundation Building, a level he bragged about endlessly despite the fact that his internal energy structure was hollow and completely unrefined.
Flanking him like two eager hyenas were his usual cronies: Reginald, a skinny, rat-faced kid with twitchy hands, and Danning, a heavy-set brute with a shaved head.
Both were floating around the 3rd and 4th stages of Foundation Building.
In a world brimming with infinite opportunities—where true warriors tested their mettle in the mystical planes, risking life and limb against abominations to forge their martial path—this trio of bottom-feeders preferred a much safer route.
They were terrified of the planes.
The mere thought of facing a real monster made their knees knock.
So, instead of hardening themselves in real battle, they spent their days lurking in low-income neighborhoods, extorting younger kids, weaker students, and soft-spoken push-overs like the former Ceres.
From Ceres’s memories, Asterius could feel the lingering ghost of old terror—the endless hand-overs of small allowance money, the humiliating shoves, the casual bruises delivered in dark alleys where no camera could see.
A cold, razor-thin smile slowly spread across Asterius’s lips.
*Ah,* he thought, his ancient soul stirring with a dark sense of amusement.
*A classic.*
“Ceres, buddy!” Kendricks called out, stepping out of the alley shadows with his arms wide, acting as if he were greeting a long-lost brother.
“Look at you!
Walking around like you own the place!
Where have you been hiding, huh?
We missed you!”
“Did we ever,” Reginald cackled, rubbing his skinny hands together.
“We thought you died out there in the woods, man!”
Asterius didn’t run.
He didn’t flinch.
Instead, he simply stood his ground, tilting his head with a look of mild, politely amused interest.
“Kendricks,” Asterius said smoothly, his voice calm, crisp, and completely devoid of the trembling hesitation Ceres used to exhibit.
“What a delightful surprise.”
Kendricks blinked, a tiny flicker of confusion crossing his face at Ceres’s bizarrely steady tone.
But his arrogance quickly swallowed it up.
Laughing loudly, Kendricks marched right up to Asterius and slung a heavy, fleshy arm around Asterius’s shoulders, wrapping his arm around his neck in a mockingly tight, suffocating embrace—a classic bully power-move designed to establish physical dominance.
“Look at this guy!” Kendricks barked, slapping Asterius’s chest with his free hand.
“Grown a little attitude, have we?
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I really do!
But hey, since we’re such good friends, let’s take a little walk, yeah?
Catch up properly.”
Without waiting for an answer, Kendricks began steering Asterius sideways, guiding him away from the bright streetlights and dragging him straight toward the pitch-black, narrow alley behind the convenience store.
Reginald and Danning fell into step behind them, stepping close to block any path of escape.
Asterius didn’t resist for a single second.
He walked along willingly, letting Kendricks drag him into the shadows like a docile lamb being led to a butcher.
In fact, if Kendricks had been paying attention, he would have felt the terrifyingly relaxed, perfectly balanced rhythm of the frame beneath his heavy arm.
Asterius was moving with the fluid grace of a predator waiting for the cage door to lock.
The moment they turned the corner into the deep darkness of the alley—hidden behind a row of towering industrial garbage dumpsters and well out of sight of the street cameras—Kendricks violently shoved Asterius off him.
Asterius caught his balance with an effortless, almost imperceptible shift of his weight, stepping back into a comfortable, balanced stance.
The friendly, mocking facade on Kendricks’s face melted away in an instant, replaced by an ugly, menacing scowl.
He spat on the asphalt and held out his right wrist, illuminating his holographic band display.
“Alright, trash,” Kendricks growled, his voice dropping all friendliness.
“Playtime’s over.
Transfer every single Federation Credit you’ve got in your digital wallet to my account right now.
And don’t give me that ‘I’m broke’ crap.
I know your mother’s restaurant just finished its weekend inventory cycle.
Hand it over, or we break both your legs and leave you behind these dumpsters until morning.”
Reginald cracked his knuckles with a wet pop, while Danning took a heavy step forward, blocking the alley exit with his broad frame.
Asterius stood in the dim light of the overhead alley bulb.
He looked at the glowing holographic screen, then slowly looked up at Kendricks’s sneering face.
Then, Asterius let out a quiet chuckle.
It wasn’t a nervous laugh.
It was a genuine, deeply amused sound that echoed softly against the brick walls.
“You know,” Asterius said smoothly, taking his hands out of his dark trousers and rolling up his sleeves with deliberate care, “in my time, I’ve faced ancient magic lords, terrifying beast lords, and bloodthirsty warlords who commanded armies of thousands.
But watching a 5th stage Foundation Building insect act like a predator…
truly, the modern world never ceases to entertain me.”
Kendricks’s scowl hardened into pure rage.
His face turned a deep, blotchy red.
“What the hell did you just say to me, you little shit?!”
“I said,” Asterius smiled, his dark eyes flashing with a sudden, lethal glint, “that your form is terrible, your posture is embarrassing, and you are far too ugly to be this confident.”
“Kill him!” Kendricks screamed, completely losing his temper.