’Yeah... just disappeared into a mysterious realm for a few decades to master painting and stuff. Nothing too serious.’
He offered a sheepish grin, trying to downplay it, but Uncle Johnson’s gaze lingered a second longer, raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it but choosing, for the mont, not to press.
After a few seconds, Johnson’s gaze softened just slightly, and a smile tugged at his lips as he glanced over Rex’s appearance.
"Looking at your clothes and deanor... seems like you’re finally starting to pull yourself together." Uncle Johnson said, his tone light but with a hint of approval underneath. He leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing in a way that said he was quietly assessing more than just Rex’s outfit. "Heard from your professors too. Apparently, you’ve been pretty engaged in class lately."
Rex chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, well... I figured I couldn’t keep drifting forever." His voice held a note of self-mockery, but there was honesty in it too. "My parents wouldn’t have liked that. Especially Mom—she would’ve scolded the hell out of if she saw like this.
He paused, then added with a small grin, "She used to lecture for thirty minutes straight if I so much as forgot to do the dishes. If she knew I was skipping classes and just wasting my ti... I don’t even want to imagine the rant."
A quiet chuckle escaped Uncle Johnson, the corner of his mouth lifting in a way that suggested both amusent and approval. "It’s good that you’re thinking like that. I won’t ask what you’re up to... you’re an adult now. You know what’s right and wrong. And what you’re doing—at least much better than old bones like . Saying this he gave a brief pause and his smile changed into a serious expression. "Just... don’t do anything that will bring sha to you parents na"
He hadn’t even considered doing sothing like that, but he still nodded seriously.
"I won’t."
There was a brief silence as Uncle Johnson looked into Rex’s eyes, as if to test the determination behind the words, Rex fearlessly t his eyes, after a few seconds, as if finding the answer he was searching for he nodded with a subtle smile, glanced at the ti and leaned back in his chair.
Uncle Johnson nodded once, satisfied. "Alright, you can go now. Try to focus on your studies more. Your professors were actually praising you for once. Said your recent performance was impressive."
Rex stood up,"Oh, really?" and grinned. "I’ll definitely keep at it. Just wait, I might even get the highest score next ti."
Uncle Johnson snorted, waving a hand dismissively. "I’ll be happy if you just pass." he said flatly, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his amusent.
Rex rolled his eyes with a laugh and gave a casual salute as he turned toward the door. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."
"And don’t forget to visit ho," Uncle Johnson called out just as Rex was about to step out the door. "Your aunt’s still waiting for your grand return. If I hadn’t stopped her, she would’ve blown up your phone by now."
Rex froze mid-step, already sensing the trap.
"And..." Johnson trailed off with a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Your dear sister Lena finally has so free ti," he said, drawing out the words like a villain revealing the final twist. "She’ll be coming ho in a few days."
Rex stiffly turned his head slightly, just enough to shoot him a mind blown glance—like a man who’d just heard a distant thunderclap and knew the storm was heading straight for him.
Uncle Johnson chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "You might want to start preparing in advance," he added in a tone that tried to sound helpful but was soaked in amusent. "Because, you know how she is. Once Lena makes up her mind, not even I can stop her. If she decides to swing by your place for a surprise inspection..." He paused dramatically. "Well, may the gods have rcy on you."
Then he leaned back in his chair, hands folded behind his head, watching Rex’s confident posture slowly crumble. The boy’s energetic pace deflated into sothing slower, stiffer—like he was dragging himself toward the Gallow rather than heading to class.
The grin widened with satisfaction. "Gotcha," he muttered to himself, clearly proud of his little ambush.
Rex let out a heavy sigh of defeat and muttered under his breath, "Guess, it’s finally ti to thoroughly clean the house...and hide anything remotely suspicious."
As for who Lena was?
Even the na felt cursed.
Just the thought of her sent a shiver crawling up his spine, as if a ghost had leaned in close and whispered his doom directly into his ear. Goosebumps prickled across his skin. It wasn’t fear—it was trauma.
Lena Johnson.
The golden child. The prodigy. The eldest daughter of Uncle Johnson. She was three years older than him, and original Rex’s personal childhood nightmare.
To the outside world, she was the perfect daughter—beautiful, graceful, and absurdly intelligent. The true embodint of "beauty with brains." Devilishly beautiful didn’t even cut it. She wasn’t just smart—she was a terrifying genius with the face of an angel and the mischief level of a certified villainess. And personality? It was just like a high-ranking demon lord with a superiority complex.
She was the kind of girl who could ace her exams blindfolded while casually humiliating anyone within a five-ter radius who dared breathe incorrectly. From kindergarten to high school, she never failed to secure the top spot in everything.
Academics, sports, debates, science fairs, piano competitions—you na it, she crushed it. It didn’t matter who stood in her way; she’d bulldoze them with that terrifyingly perfect smile, as if she was just on a pleasant stroll through the park.
She was the textbook definition of "other people’s child." The one parents loved to compare their poor offspring to. And unfortunately for Rex, he was the poor offspring in question.
But to Rex?
She was a tyrant in disguise.
He was the unlucky soul born just three years after her. A childhood sentence he never got to appeal.
Since childhood, he’d lived under her shadow. No matter what he did, she’d always be five steps ahead, smirking over her shoulder like a smug boss in a video ga. He still rembered the day they first t, he must’ve been four, and she was already seven and in full-on ’commander mode. And the way she looked at him when they were kids. That grin she gave him? That wasn’t the smile of a sister—it was the smile of a mad scientist discovering her newest test subject.
Her eyes sparkled not with affection, but possibility. From that mont on, Rex beca her personal property. She didn’t ask, she decided.
And that’s what he beca—her personal lab rat, punching bag, howork assistant, and occasional emotional support plushie. From dragging him into her "study boot camps," to using him as a model for her fashion experints, she did it all.
If he made a mistake? He’d get the look. That patronizing, disappointed glare she’d perfected by age eight, as if he’d personally failed the entire family lineage.
(End of Chapter)
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