"There she is," Ethan said, glancing over the couch as Sophia stepped in, hands full of grocery bags. "Took you long enough. Did you hike to another country?"
Sophia rolled her eyes and dropped the bags on the counter with a dramatic sigh. "You try shopping when one store's closed and the other has onions that look like they've been in a fight."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "So that's why you came back earlier?"
"Second supermarket was shut," she said, kicking off her shoes. "Apparently, it needed 'maintenance.' Whatever that means."
Mira was quiet on the couch, trying to look anywhere but at Sophia. She held the TV remote awkwardly, hands fidgeting slightly. Her face still carried a faint blush, and Sophia noticed.
With a sly grin, Sophia tilted her head. "So… how was it being alone with Ethan for that long?" Her tone was light, teasing—but with a clear undercurrent. "You two didn't get bored, right?"
Mira's eyes widened slightly, and her face turned a deeper shade of red. "I-It was fine. We just… watched TV."
Sophia stifled a laugh and gave Ethan a look. "Really? That all you did, Mr. Couch Potato?"
"Shut up," Ethan said, trying not to sound too defensive as he picked up one of the shopping bags. "Shouldn't you be grateful I helped Mira stay entertained while you were off doing your little grocery saga?"
"I'm grateful," Sophia said with a smirk, "grateful you didn't burn the house down."
Ethan scoffed. "I'm going upstairs."
Sophia called after him as he headed up the stairs, "Don't forget to check your imaginary game achievements, champ."
Ethan raised a middle finger without turning around. "Already ahead of you."
As the door clicked shut behind him, Sophia grinned and turned back to Mira. "Seriously though, you okay?"
Mira gave a soft nod, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Y-Yeah… just a little tired."
Sophia narrowed her eyes but let it go for now.
Upstairs, Ethan closed his door, pulled up the system interface, and leaned back against his desk.
"Let's see what I got for all that work," he muttered, voice low and half-smiling.
Ethan sat on the edge of his bed as the familiar blue shimmer of the system pulsed into view.
> [Harem Sub Task Completed]
Target: Mira — Satisfied
Claim Reward?
[ Yes ] [ No ]
"Obviously," he muttered, tapping [Yes] with a smirk.
The screen flickered, then lit up again.
> +5 Stat Points Acquired
Unused Stat Points: 5
He exhaled, rubbing his jaw as the system displayed his current stats:
> Current Stats:
Strength: 5
Agility: 2
Endurance: 2
Perception: 4
Charisma: 5
Intelligence: 3
Willpower: 1
"Alright… I've already pumped up Strength, Charisma, and Perception," Ethan muttered, scanning the list. "Time to stop neglecting the rest."
He dragged the floating sliders:
+2 to Agility
+2 to Endurance
+1 to Willpower
> Updated Stats:
Strength: 5
Agility: 4
Endurance: 4
Perception: 4
Charisma: 5
Intelligence: 3
Willpower: 2
Unused Stat Points: 0
"Balanced now. Feels better," he muttered, closing the interface with a swipe of his fingers.
But as the screen faded, his mind was already drifting—not to Mira, not to Sophia—but to Rex.
The executive of Iron Fang.
The monster he wanted to attract.
"Funny," Ethan murmured, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Most people try to avoid people like Rex. Me? I've been painting targets on his crew one by one."
He could still feel the sting in his knuckles from earlier today—when he took down one of Rex's lieutenants outside the gym. Word was definitely spreading. Iron Fang wasn't the kind of group that let things slide.
"And that's the point," Ethan said with a cold smile. "He's going to hear about me. He's going to come looking. I want him to."
It wasn't just for thrill or ego—though Ethan wouldn't deny the high it gave him. No. This was about making waves, taking control, and proving that he wasn't just some system puppet running around for points.
"I've already messed with his crew. Next, I'm making sure he shows up."
Ethan stood, walking toward the window. Outside, the night was settling in. Quiet. Peaceful.
A silence he was about to break.
"Let's see what kind of monster Rex really is…"
He smirked and turned back toward the room.
Because the hunt had already begun.
The next morning, Ethan was already dressed for school, bag slung over his shoulder as he made his way downstairs. To his surprise, he found Emily still in the living room, curled up on the couch with a cup of tea in hand. That was odd. She was usually out before he even got out of bed.
"You're still here?" he asked, arching a brow.
Emily looked up and offered a tired smile. "Yeah, woke up feeling a little under the weather. Took the day off."
He blinked. That was rare. Emily never missed work.
"You? Under the weather?" Ethan smirked. "Guess even robots break down sometimes."
Emily scoffed and waved a hand at him. "Don't get cheeky with me, little boy. Go on, off to school."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Right, right. Hope you get better soon."
"Thanks. Try not to pick any fights today, okay?"
No promises, Ethan thought as he left.
---
The walk to school was uneventful. The same streets, the same chatter, the same stares from people who were starting to notice him a little more each day. But Ethan wasn't focused on any of that—he was waiting. Rex hadn't responded yet. No retaliation. No show of dominance. It was strange.
Did I go wrong somewhere? Maybe I misread him... or maybe he's just biding his time.
By the time the first session ended, Ethan was starting to get restless. Nothing. No threats. No underlings. No message. He rose from his seat, hands in his pockets, and strolled toward the hallway. That's when it happened.
BANG.
The classroom door slammed open with a loud kick, the sound echoing like a gunshot across the room. Students flinched. A gust of wind swept into the room—and with it, him.
He stood tall at the doorway, filling it like a shadow. A senior. Probably a year or two older, with a sharp jawline and cold eyes. He wasn't bulky—but there was power in his lean frame. Dangerous power. His school jacket wasn't worn, it was just hanging behind his shoulders, sleeves empty, dancing with the wind like a cape.
His presence silenced the entire class.
Ethan turned his head toward the door, narrowing his eyes as the figure began to walk—no, stalk—into the room. Each step deliberate. Each tap of his shoes echoing louder than it should've.
The guy walked up to the podium—the very place teachers stood—and then slowly turned to face the class.
A crooked, sinister smirk spread across his face.
He lifted his arms wide like he was presenting a magic trick, his voice low but commanding.
"Ex-fucking-scuse me..." he said, dragging the words, oozing confidence and threat in equal measure. "I'm looking for a certain student... goes by the name Ethan."
His gaze swept across the room, eyes filled with menace and glee. "Can someone kindly point me to the dead man?"
The class was frozen. Some students looked toward Ethan. Others looked away entirely.
But Ethan?
Ethan just smirked.
Finally.
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his heart oddly calm.
"So you finally showed up," he muttered to himself, his grin widening.
The game was on.