The morning sunlight stread in through the blinds, casting soft lines across Tyler’s bedroom.
He blinked awake, his mind imdiately clear, a benefit of his now-elevated stamina and intelligence.
There was no lingering grogginess, no slow transition from sleep to alertness. Just instant clarity.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood, stretching slightly before heading to the bathroom.
The splash of cold water on his face refreshed him instantly. After brushing his teeth, he stared at his reflection for a mont.
His features were sharper now, more defined. The changes to his body weren’t just internal. They were becoming harder to ignore.
Tyler’s appearance had undergone a quiet but undeniable transformation over the months of consistent training and stat growth.
He wasn’t bulky—far from it. He didn’t have the oversized fra or bloated musculature of a gym rat. Instead, he was carved—refined.
He had grown taller, now standing with a posture that made every inch count. Broad shoulders frad a torso that tapered into a tight, athletic waist.
His body had added muscle, but only where it mattered—dense, functional muscle that seed to flow rather than bulge.
Each line on his arms, chest, and back looked like it had been sculpted with purpose, not force-fed protein and ego.
His abs didn’t just show—they cut. His obliques frad his torso like armor plating, and his legs, while not overly large, were coiled with power.
But it wasn’t just his physique that had changed.
His skin had a cleaner, healthier glow and it was very noticeable. His facial features had sharpened, losing the roundness of youth and gaining the definition of a man coming into his own.
His jawline was more prominent, his cheekbones slightly higher, and there was a natural symtry to his face that turned heads without trying.
His eyes, once a simple brown, now held flecks of gold and stormy gray depending on the light—an intensity that made people pause when they t his gaze.
They weren’t glowing, but they had depth now—like staring into sothing alive, awake, and dangerous.
His hair, slightly longer than before, looked effortlessly styled even when it wasn’t. Thick, dark, and slightly tousled, it matched the whole aesthetic of soone who didn’t need to try hard to look like he belonged on a movie poster.
It was the kind of look that made strangers stop. The kind that made girls glance twice—then three tis.
Tyler could already guess the effect his look would have on the opposite sex, but he couldn’t be bothered.
It wasn’t that he still feeling broken from being cheated on. After regressing, it was only mories of his his family that had always surfaced whenever he thought about it. He couldn’t care less about any other thing from his past life
Girls and relationships weren’t his priorities at the mont. He had far more important things to deal with. Maybe after he had cured his mom but until then.
He quickly dried his face and made his way downstairs to the personal gym.
His eting with David wasn’t until later in the afternoon, maybe even toward evening, depending on how things played out. He had the morning to himself—and he intended to use it.
Today’s workout wasn’t about pushing limits or testing endurance. It wasn’t even about building strength.
It was about mastering it.
Yesterday, he’d torn a reinforced mat and shattered a punching bag chain without even trying.
That kind of power might seem impressive to so, but to Tyler, it was a liability if he couldn’t control it. He couldn’t afford accidents. Not when he lived with people he loved. Not when the future demanded precision.
He stepped into the gym barefoot again, letting the coolness of the floor ground him.
He moved through his routine in perfect rhythm—push-ups with deliberate slowness, holding each position mid-air for a count of three before rising. Squats perford with tension control, letting the full range of motion dictate his pace.
He focused entirely on his breath, on the sensation of muscle fiber contracting and releasing, on weight distribution across his toes and heels.
At one point, he mimicked yesterday’s squat that had cracked the mat. This ti, he slowed the descent and softened the upward motion until it felt like a natural extension of breath. The mat beneath him didn’t even creak.
"Better," he whispered.
Next were shadow strikes. No bag. Just air. He threw punches at half-speed, visualizing impact and redirection. A jab. A hook. A pivot. Then a precise elbow combination that stopped mid-flight, milliters from an invisible opponent’s temple.
Control.
He was halfway through a second set of movent drills when he rembered: his mom’s personal trainer would be coming today.
Tyler paused mid-rep and glanced at the ti.
If she walked in while he was still here...
Yeah. That wouldn’t be good.
There was no hiding what he could do—not if she saw the floor damage or heard the sheer sound his body made at full output.
It wasn’t just about keeping secrets. It was about protecting people from things they wouldn’t understand.
With that, he ramped up the last portion of the workout, finishing faster, though still mindful of his control.
Two hours after he’d started, sweat glistened on his arms and back, but his breathing was calm.
He left the gym quietly and returned to his room upstairs, taking a cold shower that erased all signs of exertion.
By the ti he stepped downstairs, clean and dressed, breakfast was just about to begin.
Unsurprisingly, his mom and Devin were waiting for him at the table, their plates untouched.
"You didn’t have to wait," he said, pulling out a chair.
"We wanted to," Helena said with a smile. "Family als are better when we’re all here."
Tyler smiled warmly and sat down. Breakfast was simple—boiled eggs, toast, avocado slices, and sausages—but it felt like a feast because of the company.
Devin was already talking animatedly about a movie trailer he saw, while Helena refilled glasses with fresh orange juice.
The atmosphere at the dining table was light, cheerful and peaceful.
Midway through the al, the doorbell rang. Helena glanced up.
"That should be my trainer."
Tyler offered to get the door, but Helena shook her head and stood. Monts later, she returned with a woman in her early thirties, toned, sharp-eyed, and dressed in branded sportswear.
Helena invited her to join them, but the trainer politely declined.
"I’ll just wait in the gym," she said. "You finish your al. No rush."
Tyler ntally thanked her for that.
Helena nodded and returned to her seat, finishing her food while chatting with Devin.
Once breakfast ended, she went to rest briefly before her session.
Tyler and Devin moved to the living area. They played gas and watched TV together, sharing laughs and snacks.
Ti blurred. Hours slipped by unnoticed. Tyler felt content in a way that was rare for soone carrying the weight of the future.
Then his phone buzzed.
It was David.
"I just landed in Oakland," the text read.
Tyler tapped out a reply quickly, sharing their address. Monts later, the phone rang again.
"I’ll be there in so minutes," David said on the call. "I got a ride."
"Perfect," Tyler replied. "See you soon."
He hung up, a small smile playing at his lips. He would’ve liked to pick David up, but with only a learner’s permit, airport runs were out of the question.
Still, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that David was coming. The next phase was about to begin.
So minutes later, the security screen in the living room chid. Tyler got up and checked. A familiar figure stood outside the gate, looking around with an impressed expression.
Tyler pressed the gate release and stepped outside. The gate slid open.
David turned and grinned the mont he saw him. "You don’t stop surprising , do you?"
Tyler shrugged. "I try."
David patted his shoulder and looked around at the house, whistling low. "This is... wow. You really moved up fast."
"Co in," Tyler said.
They walked in, and Helena greeted David warmly. She hadn’t seen him in a while and looked genuinely pleased. David, on the other hand, looked slightly flustered—but happy.
Tyler didn’t interrupt. He left them to it and retreated up to the study for a while, giving David a chance to enjoy the mont.
He knew how David felt about Helena, even if it was unspoken. A man needed monts like that, and Tyler could give him this one.
Roughly thirty minutes later, David had eaten and freshened up. He looked more focused now—settled and ready.
Tyler led him upstairs to the study. The room was cool and quiet, the blinds drawn halfway to keep the sun at bay.
His laptop was already open on the coffee table, with neatly arranged notes beside it.
They both sat on the couch.
David leaned back slightly.
"Alright, boss. What’s this about?" He asked with a bright smile on his face—courtsey of Helena.
Tyler didn’t waste ti.
"I want to build a GPU fabrication plant," he said calmly.
"Wait. Co again?" David blinked in confusion.
"I want to build a GPU fab," Tyler repeated. "A combination of Nvidia and TSMC in Gumua."
There was silence.
David’s brows lifted, and he sat forward.
"Wait... hold on. You want to build what in Gumua?"
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