Lin Hao was done being a mascot.
He'd left his "welcoming committee" post, slipping away from Fatty and Su Yun with a mumbled excuse about "needing to rest." The moment he was off campus, his 'humbled' shuffle became a brisk, purposeful stride.
His "Hero" persona was a cage. His dorm room was a fishbowl. His warehouse was a lab. He needed a home.
His new mortal money, the $15 million, was a tool he hadn't fully utilized. He'd spent the rest of the day fixing that. With a few clicks on his laptop, he'd become the anonymous cash-buyer of a reliable, unremarkable, and slightly-used black sedan. With a few more, he'd had the car delivered to a public garage, the keys left in a lockbox.
He was now mobile. He was untraceable.
He drove.
The two-hour drive from the city to the quiet, working-class suburb where his parents lived was a revelation. The city was a buzzing, chaotic hive of "Awakened" energy, BSA patrols, and adrenaline.
The suburbs... were terrified.
Here, there were no prodigies, no heroes. There were just normal people who had watched the world end on TV. Lin Hao saw "Neighborhood Watch" signs that had been hastily painted over with "AWAKENED PATROL." He saw hardware stores with "SOLD OUT" signs for plywood and heavy-duty locks.
The "Great Awakening" hadn't been a gift here. It had been a home invasion.
This, more than anything, solidified his resolve. His parents were living on the front lines, and they didn't even know it.
He pulled up to his childhood home, a small, neat house attached to their family's small, dark restaurant: "Lin's Hearty Noodles." The restaurant was closed, a new, heavy-duty padlock on the door. His heart tightened.
He parked, his [Level 6] senses scanning the house. He felt three heartbeats. Two, steady and anxious. One, fast, excited, and... thrumming?
He knocked.
The door was thrown open. It was his mother, Jia Li. Her eyes were red, and the moment she saw him, she let out a half-sob, half-scream.
"A-Hao! My son!"
She grabbed him, pulling him inside, her hands running all over his arms, his chest, his face. "Are you hurt? We saw the news! The dogs! The blood! They said you were... you were..."
"I'm fine, Mom," Lin Hao said, his voice softer than it had been in days. He let her fuss, this small, strong woman who smelled like flour and comfort. "It wasn't my blood. I'm okay."
"Jia Li, let him breathe," a deep voice said.
His father, Lin Wen, stood in the living room, wiping his hands on an apron. He was a quiet, solid man, his back slightly bent from a lifetime of labor. He looked at Lin Hao, his eyes filled with a terrifying, complex mix of fierce pride and even fiercer worry.
"You did a... a brave thing," his father said, his voice gruff. "But a foolish thing. This... 'Awakening.' This is not a game, A-Hao. You are not invincible."
"I know, Dad. I was careful."
"Brother! You're famous!"
A new voice, high and vibrating with an energy that rattled the room. His sister, Lin Meng, came bounding down the stairs. She was sixteen, all limbs and chaotic, boundless energy.
"You're the 'Hero of Campus'!" she yelled, practically vibrating. "You fought monsters! You ripped a railing out of the ground! Did you see that guy Chen Long? The one on TV? He's nothing! My brother is the real hero!"
She ran up to him, her eyes shining with an almost-manic light. "Can you teach me? I want to do it too! I want to be an Awakened! Can you give me your power? Can you".
"Meng-meng, be quiet!" their mother snapped. "This is serious! Your brother could have died!"
"But I'm serious!" Lin Meng protested. She turned, her face set in a look of profound, 16-year-old determination. "Brother, you're not the only one!"
Before Lin Hao could even process the words, she spun and faced the living room wall.
"I felt it too!" she yelled. "The night of the 'Pulse'! I've been practicing! Watch!"
She let out a small, high-pitched "Hiyah!" and punched the drywall.
THWACK!
It wasn't a "heroic" punch. But it wasn't a mortal punch, either.
A small, perfect, fist-sized indentation appeared in the wall, a small spiderweb of cracks spreading from the impact.
His mother screamed. His father's jaw dropped.
Lin Hao... froze. His blood ran cold.
Lin Meng yelped, shaking her hand. "Ow! Okay, so it still hurts a little. But look! I did it! I'm an Awakened, just like you! [Level 1: Iron Skin]!"
She had said the words. The System terms.
Lin Hao's heart, which had been beating at a calm, [Level 6]-cultivator's pace, suddenly hammered.
He didn't just look at his sister. He scanned her.
He opened the [$Upgrade Others$] tab, his mind reeling. "Target: Lin Meng."
[Target Acquired: Lin Meng (Family/Bloodline)] [Cultivation: Level 1: Novice (Iron Skin)]
She had done it. On her own. She had awakened, just like he had... but without the System's 10-UP cheat.
And then, he saw the second line. The one that made his world tilt on its axis.
[Talent: Level 3: Inferior Root]
He stared.
He, the protagonist, the "hidden boss," had started with [Level 1: Mortal Root]. He had been less than trash. He had paid the System just to graduate to [Level 2: Waste Root].
His 16-year-old sister... was a natural.
She had, with no help, a talent that had cost him 1,100 UP to acquire. She was a real talent. Not a prodigy, perhaps, but leagues above a common Awakened.
His pride was so sudden and so fierce, it was a physical ache in his chest.
And then, the terror hit him.
A [Level 3: Inferior Root]... with no Gongfa. With no protector. With no "Guardian Family" to hide her. She was a "Hero Class" talent, running around, punching walls, in a world where the BSA was hunting for just such talent.
She was a shining, unprotected, naive treasure.
His original plan had been to save 10,000 UP to upgrade her from Level 1 to Level 2, as he'd checked in Chapter 29. He was wrong. She was already Level 3.
He had to protect her. He had to hide her. And he had to nurture that talent.
He forced his trembling will to check the price.
[Target: Lin Meng | Talent: Level 3: Inferior Root] -> [Upgrade: Level 4: Common Root]?
He braced himself. His own L3 -> L4 upgrade costs 5,000 UP. The 100x cost...
[Cost: 500,000 UP]
Five... hundred... thousand.
The number was a punch to the gut. It was a mountain.
He looked at his sister, who was now being scolded by their mother for breaking the wall, her face a mask of proud, unrepentant joy.
Lin Hao's frustration, his ambition, his entire drive, coalesced into a single, white-hot point.
The 800 UP he would get tomorrow? The 1,600 UP after that?
It wasn't fast enough. It wasn't nearly fast enough.