Knocking sounds rang out from the door, echoing gently through the room as Ethan stirred under the sheets.
"Young master, your two hours have passed. Please wake up..." a man's voice called out politely from beyond the door.
Ethan groaned, his voice groggy and muffled by the pillow. "I'm awake."
The knocking stopped. Silence settled in once again.
Ethan slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the dull light that crept in through the curtains. He rubbed his face, trying to shake off the heavy drowsiness still clinging to his limbs. His body felt like it had been through a storm — aching joints, sore muscles, and a strange kind of stiffness that made every small movent feel like a chore. Even lifting his arm to scratch his forehead took more effort than it should have.
For a brief mont, he seriously considered going back to sleep. The bed was warm, the room was quiet, and his limbs scread for rest. But he knew better. Arthur's words from earlier rang clearly in his head.
"Eat a full al and get a proper rest. Your body needs nutrients to heal, and sleep to rebuild the muscle."
Groaning in frustration, Ethan forced himself to sit up. He tossed the blanket aside and slid his legs off the edge of the bed, planting his feet onto the cool floor.
The mont he tried to stand, his body betrayed him.
Everything tilted slightly, and a wave of nausea hit him as his legs began trembling like jelly. A sharp tingling numbness spread from his thighs to his calves. He looked down, brows furrowing as he saw his legs shaking uncontrollably, refusing to obey.
"What the hell..."
Before he could brace himself properly, his legs gave out completely, and he fell backward onto the bed with a dull thump.
His eyes narrowed, frustration bubbling inside him. This feeling... it's very unpleasant.
The sensation in his legs was familiar, too familiar. Weakness, cramps, numbness—he knew what this was.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips. "Ugh... this again."
A wave of nostalgia hit him, bringing back mories from his previous life on Earth. Back then, there was a phase when he got obsessed with self-improvent videos online. One particular video stuck with him. The influencer had claid that won started noticing him after he began working out. A simple concept. Exercise equals attention.
Ethan, being young and admittedly vain, had jumped on the bandwagon. He signed up for a gym, filled with the naive belief that a few dumbbell curls would turn him into a chick magnet.
Reality hit fast.
First, building a decent body as a naturally skinny guy was hell. Second, keeping up with the routine was exhausting. And third... no one seed to care. Despite the progress he made, the reactions were lukewarm at best. And when he tried to point it out?
People were more annoyed than impressed.
He had learned the hard way—most people don't care.
So why bother? That thought had driven him to give up back then.
But now... this was different.
This wasn't about vanity. It was about survival. Strength wasn't just a bonus here; it was a requirent.
Still, he stared at the door with an annoyed grimace.
"But how am I supposed to go out for dinner when I can't even walk properly?"
Just then, the familiar sound of knocking returned.
"Young master, a maid is here for you... she's asking if you'd like to co down for dinner," the sa guard's voice called out.
Ethan blinked in surprise. A maid?
An idea struck him, and he cleared his throat. "Let her in."
The door creaked open, and after a pause, a young maid stepped hesitantly into the room. She was petite, wearing the standard black-and-white uniform, her posture stiff and uncertain. Her eyes remained downcast, not daring to et his gaze.
Ethan tilted his head slightly, observing her. Her movents, her face...
She looks familiar, he thought.
Then it clicked. Oh... she's the one from yesterday. The maid he had unintentionally flirted with.
A rush of tension crept up his spine, and his heart skipped a beat. His eyes sharpened slightly, unintentionally intense, like a predator spotting prey. There was a flicker of desire, sothing primal, raw. He could feel the instinct bubbling up.
Control it, he told himself. Not again.
The girl squird under his gaze, her body language screaming discomfort. She spoke in a soft, hesitant voice.
"Y-Young master, dinner is ready. Would you like to go now or... later?"
Ethan blinked, snapping out of his trance. He coughed lightly to ground himself.
"What's your na?" he asked, his voice softer now.
The maid stiffened. Still looking down, she whispered, "M-My na is Anna, young master."
"Anna, huh?" Ethan nodded thoughtfully. "Can you bring my al here? I... don't really feel like going out right now."
She gave a small nod. "Of course, young master."
As she turned to leave, Ethan impulsively added, "Thank you, Anna. And by the way... your na is lovely. Just like your eyes."
Anna froze.
Her shoulders stiffened as his words sank in. A faint flush blood on her cheeks, and without a word, she dashed out of the room like a rabbit fleeing from a wolf.
Ethan stared at the closed door, confused.
"What the hell...? That wasn't even supposed to be flirty..."
He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. Why can't I control myself?
Just then, the crispy voice of the system echoed in his head.
{Host, your body is not used to suppressing its urges.}
{The original Ethan never restrained himself. As a half-awakened, he acted purely on instinct. He believed every desire he had was a personal choice. He didn't even realize he possessed an awakened bloodline.}
Ethan closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. This... this is going to be a problem.
It wasn't just about acting properly. It was about keeping control over a body that wanted to act on impulse. And worse yet, constantly fighting those urges was draining.
I'm not him, Ethan reminded himself firmly. I won't let this body decide who I am.
Ethan was determined about that.
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