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There was no better morning than this.
The sky was clear, the estate was peaceful, and for once, I felt like a woman at the peak of her life.
Dressed in my black track pants and a sports bra, I jogged across the lush green lawn, feeling the warm breeze kiss my skin.
Turning 40 soon? Please.
My body was sculpted to perfection—toned, lean, absolutely gorgeous.
The system had helped by a stretch, and I made sure every single soul in the estate noticed.
And beside , my pride and joy, my son Lucas, walked with his usual air of casual indifference.
He had grown a lot over the past few months—taller, sharper, a little more in control of himself.
His ssy black hair had gotten even ssier, and his deep violet eyes carried the kind of intensity that would intimidate most people.
Unfortunately, Lucas was still Lucas. Which ant he still had the mind-blowing talent of saying the worst possible things at the worst possible tis.
But today, not even that could ruin my mood. Because, for the first ti in years, I felt like I had won.
Three months ago, Noah returned ho, and in just a few weeks, he had ntally lost it. The boy was no longer a threat, no longer a danger.
No. He was a cockroach, crawling about, completely beneath . If I felt like it, I could squash him under my heel and wipe him off the floor without breaking a sweat.
And the best part? The absolute masterpiece of it all? That motherfucker had brought ho a girl. Like so low-class commoner who thought dragging ho a woman would magically fix his life.
I had underestimated how much of a generational fool he could be.
Oh, I had been wrong about a lot of things. I had thought Noah was soone to fear, soone who could be dangerous. And sure, for a little while, he had risen.
He had gained strength and popularity ridiculously fast in the Roro council.
But his fall?
His fall had hit even harder.
Just 3 months ago, I had seen him—pathetic, broken, weak. He was heavily injured, no strength, and absolutely no will to fight. That was when I knew. I had won.
Life was good. The morning air slled fresh, my body felt divine, and I was basically shining in the glory of my victory.
Well—just then, I saw the boy's door trembling open.
And I had been so sure to give him a mocking smile in return that I did not even think for a second how he would react.
Noah.
Stepping out of his house, dressed in that stupid white T-shirt with so ridiculous printed design, paired with plain black pants… he smiled back at ?
What the fuck?
He wore the sa lazy outfit.
His hair was white, exactly like I had seen them last, but why did sothing feel so different?
I stopped walking, and Lucas, beside , blinked.
"Morning, Aunt Ana," Noah greeted, locking eyes with .
I stiffened.
Hold on. What?
For three whole months, this boy had been avoiding eye contact like I was so executioner ready to chop off his head.
He had been miserable, drowning in self-loathing, roaming through the estate like a walking corpse.
But now…
Now he was looking straight at ?
With confidence.
With purpose.
Like he was back.
Like he had plans.
My brain, once filled with sweet victory, short-circuited.
Lucas, ever the walking disaster, tilted his head and casually dropped the bomb of a century:
"Mom, why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"
Silence.
Complete. Utter. Silence.
Noah blinked at . I blinked at Noah.
Lucas just scratched his head, like he hadn't just set my entire world on fire.
Ugh, why did I have such a useless son?
I almost groaned. Forcing out a laugh, I sounded more like a dying goat. "Hah! Ghost? Don't be ridiculous, Lucas." I shot back, staring daggers at the boy.
"But you—" I sent a glaring look to this brainless son of mine. If he said another word—
Ughhhhh.
And no. I was not frozen. I was processing.
Noah tilted his head slightly. Amused.
Amused?
My entire system scread in protest.
No. No, no, no, no. What was this? What was happening? Why was this happening?
Two months ago, I had seen this boy at rock bottom. He had lost everything—his mana, his strength, his pride.
He had been nothing.
And yet, standing in front of now—
There was sothing dangerous about him.
Not in the way he used to be.
Not in raw strength.
But in his eyes.
They weren't empty anymore.
They weren't broken.
They held sothing else.
Determination.
Defiance.
I swallowed.
Lucas, still blissfully unaware of the existential crisis he had triggered in , continued, "Huh? I thought he was still broken—"
Noah chuckled.
Chuckled.
CHUCKLED?!?
Oh.
Oh, I did not like that.
Panic started bubbling inside . No. No, this wasn't how things were supposed to go.
He was supposed to stay down. He was supposed to live like a defeated vegetable for the rest of his life.
Did sothing happen? Did soone help him… or could it be that he found a new source of strength?
I clenched my jaw, feeling as if all my plans had co to a flop.
Noah should not be looking at like that.
Like he was planning sothing.
Like he was about to rise again.
Lucas, once again, deciding to ruin my entire life, suddenly turned to and deadpanned, "Mom, should I get you a towel? You're sweating too much…"
Noah let out a soft hum in agreent.
I snapped my head towards Lucas, almost feeling targeted by the two.
"Lucas," I hissed under my breath, "I swear to every god above, if you say one more word, I will sell you to the black market."
The innocent boy blinked, looking at strangely; as if he was really thinking hard about it.
"hh."
"I don't think I'd sell for much, Ma…"
"…"
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