“Give us a bowl o’ wot’r.” Kevin chimed in with a proper British accent, catchin’ sight of ‘is sister ‘avin a drink.

“Seriously, what’s up with your mouth?” Riya questioned, her expression contorted into a comical mix of confusion and concern as she watched her brother deliver words like he’d suddenly misplaced his tongue.

“Language, young lady,” Maria chimed in, her voice adopting a stern note as Riya let slip a curse in front of her brother.

Riya shrugged, her retort swallowed by the passing of the ‘bowl o’ wot’r’ as she inquired, “Where were you disappearing to at this ungodly hour?”

“Ah, you know, just a little late-night store tango, getting some chores squared away for the impending doom of tomorrow,” Kevin answered, diving into the ‘wot’r’ like it held the elixir of life itself.

“Mum, my stomach’s throwing a tantrum. What’s the culinary masterpiece tonight?” Kevin inquired while gently nestling the ‘wot’r’ back into the fridge, his eyes scanning the kitchen like a food detective on a mission.

“In the microwave,” Maria replied, gracefully rising from her floor-seated stance and stepping into the kitchen. She continued, “Get cleaned up, I’ll have your dinner ready in a minute.”

Kevin gave a nod of gratitude before heading downstairs to scrub up, leaving Riya with a raised eyebrow and an exasperated tone. “Mom, seriously, you’re spoiling him rotten.”

Maria turned toward her daughter, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Spoiling? Darling, serving dinner isn’t indulgence; it’s basic human decency. Your brother’s been sweating away all day at the store. And speaking of which, you could lend him a hand sometimes. Instead, you saunter in from university and seem to morph into a couch ornament. How about offering a hand at the store once in a while?” As the microwave hummed to life, Maria deftly retrieved dishes to plate the meal.

Riya, more irked than ever, simply rolled her eyes and stormed off to her room without bothering to utter a word. Meanwhile, Kevin emerged from the washroom, ravenous, and tucked into the mouthwatering delight of meatball spaghetti his mother had conjured for dinner.

With Riya safely nestled in her own abode, Kevin found himself dining solo, while his mother too withdrew to her bed. The air was heavy with an unspoken tension, as if a storm cloud was hovering above Maria’s thoughts. Kevin, on his part, didn’t let it bother him. He savored each bite of his meal, all the while relishing the delightful updates of his status that had him practically beaming with joy.

[Status

Name :- Kevin Morison

Post: Store Owner

Store Level: Street Shop

Realm: None

STR : 22

AGL : 18

DIX : 17𝒪𝒱𝓵𝒩xt.𝗇𝓔t

STM : 19

CHM : 12

INT : 15

Attribute points : 0

Cultivation technique : Essence Harmonization Lv 1 (0.146%)(Divine)

Skills : Active skills:- Soldier blade Lv 2 (92%)

Passive skills :- Lust Aura Lv 1 (0%)]

His grin stretched from ear to ear as his eyes caught sight of a new entry in his status: Lust Aura. The name pretty much said it all—a tantalizing aura that radiated from his being, capable of stoking the desires of those around him. Unfortunately, this skill wasn’t something he could level up through the usual rigorous practice routine. Instead, it would burgeon in strength in tandem with his own power. But, should he fancy some rapid growth, he could give it a boost with a swig of potion and a munch on some fruit.

Kevin’s insight had broadened too, thanks to the emergence of the next segment of his cultivation technique. Along with it came a slew of information on various techniques and potions. Regrettably, creating these potions proved trickier than solving a Rubik’s cube in the dark, a task requiring practice, talent, and a constellation of other prerequisites—things Kevin simply couldn’t fulfill without some serious elbow grease.

A twinge of irritation prickled within him as he recollected his recent run-in with a duplicitous alchemist peddling subpar goods. “I’ve got to rope in that swindler as my personal alchemist,” he muttered under his breath, his determination fueled by the memory of the fraudulent transaction.

The surge of anger ebbed away, making room for a renewed sense of elation. His thoughts swiftly pivoted, fixating on the other skills that his cultivation technique had unlocked.

The first in line was a technique called Yin Rising Hands.

[Yin Rising Hands: The inaugural dual cultivation technique of Essence Harmonization. This technique aims to boost the essence within a woman’s body by delicately channeling Yang Qi through the palms.]

Kevin’s excitement bubbled over as he delved into the complexities of the text before him. Despite its daunting intricacies, the material proved to be an enthralling puzzle, a challenging yet enjoyable endeavor. The prospect of practicing these techniques on a living canvas amplified his eagerness, igniting a spark within him that only intensified his determination.

“Shit, it late.” Kevin muttered to himself, his gaze snagging on the clock’s digital display—2:00 AM blinked back at him in quiet accusation. With a hastened pace, he stashed away the remnants of his meal, an array of dirty dishes vanishing into their rightful places. Tomorrow held an early rendezvous with the store, demanding his prompt attention.

As Kevin settled into bed, he noticed his sister and mother were already ensconced in the embrace of slumber. Wordlessly, he maneuvered himself to his customary spot between them, finding his niche in the familial cocoon. As sleep’s embrace claimed him, Kevin found solace in the shared tranquility, mirroring their peaceful repose.

Kevin descended into the welcoming arms of sleep, only to be unceremoniously yanked back to reality by an elusive sound. His face scrunched up in annoyance, like a cat being awakened from a luxurious nap by a pesky fly. Seriously? Can’t a guy catch a break? He grumbled internally.

Thinking quickly, he improvised a makeshift earplug using his pillow, muffling one ear while the other received the royal treatment of being blocked by his very own hand. If this was a wrestling match between him and sleep, Kevin was determined not to tap out.

However, the source of the auditory disturbance seemed hell-bent on challenging Kevin’s commitment to dreamland. Ugh, just go away already. I command you, pesky noise! he commanded his drowsy brain, hoping his inner dictator could keep the noise at bay.

Yet, like an unwelcome jingle stuck in his head, the sound kept persisting. In ordinary circumstances, Kevin might have happily grooved to its rhythm, but not now, not when he was waging the epic battle for sleep supremacy.

Growing increasingly agitated, he finally surrendered to consciousness, his eyes cracking open in exasperation. Shocked disbelief painted his features as he focused on the source of the persistent sound, attempting to unravel what it was and why it dared to invade his sleep.