After breakfast, Bruce went back to his room alone. Outside, his mother and grandfather assumed he was in a bad mood because of the club or the World Cup, but in reality, Bruce was thinking about his future.
Somehow, inexplicably, he had traveled through time—and ended up as a fake rich kid. It was a relief that he had transmigrated into this body; if it had been a girl's body, he honestly wouldn't know what to do. He would probably be completely confused about whether to stand or squat while urinating.
Regardless, he was already in this world, and he needed to figure out how to survive.
Lying alone on the bed, Bruce drifted into a mental blank, lost in thought.
In his dazed state, Bruce vaguely felt himself drifting into a gray, misty place.
"Where am I? Am I dreaming?"
He was puzzled when he noticed a light ahead, like a firefly in the darkness—so bright and distinct that it pulled him in.
"Well, it's just a dream, so there's nothing to worry about," he told himself. With that, Bruce started walking toward the light, curious to see what it was.
Although he felt himself moving quickly, the light still seemed far away.
"I refuse to believe there's anything I can't do in a dream!" he muttered stubbornly, ignoring everything else and charging straight toward it.
Time felt strange—like an eternity had passed, yet only a moment at the same time. Bruce felt himself drawing closer and closer to the light.
Then, suddenly, a powerful suction gripped him, and he was pulled into the glowing spot.
※※※
It was almost noon. In the living room, Bruce's mother, Kate Lee, and his grandfather, John Lee, had already prepared lunch.
"I'll go call Bruce for lunch," Old John said, seeing the food laid out on the table.
"No need. I just checked—he's still sleeping in bed. I called him twice, but he didn't wake up," Kate Lee replied. "Let's eat first. He can cook for himself when he wakes up."
But during their meal, the conversation inevitably returned to Bruce.
"Don't worry. Bruce will definitely succeed in football. He's inherited my talent from back in the day," Old John said confidently.
Kate Lee, as his daughter, didn't hold back. "Honestly, Dad, there's not much to say about your career."
"It was because of injuries," he said with a hint of regret. "If it weren't for those damn injuries, I would have succeeded, played for a top club, led Scotland to the World Cup, and won the trophy..."
"To be fair," Kate countered gently, "even England has only won the World Cup once. As for Scotland… let's just wait until they make it to the knockout stage."
"You…!"
The father and daughter refused to yield to each other, and their argument began to escalate.
It was clear that John the Elder was a typical Scotsman, with Scotland at the center of his identity. Kate, on the other hand, had lived in London since her student days. Though she had Scottish ancestry, she clearly felt a stronger connection to England—or more broadly, to the United Kingdom.
"Alright, I would prefer Bruce to give up football and return to school. If he focuses on his studies, he could get into Oxford or Cambridge in a few years and become an outstanding mathematician," Kate said.
"However, I also respect his personal choice—after all, he is already seventeen."
In the end, it was Kate who set the tone of the discussion.
※※※
"Bruce? Bruce?!"
Bruce felt as if someone had slapped him across the face. When he came to, a burning pain spread across his cheeks, and they felt damp. He blinked and saw his mother and maternal grandfather standing beside the bed, both looking worried.
"Bruce, did you take sleeping pills?" Kate asked immediately, her voice tight with concern.
"No, why would I take sleeping pills?" Bruce replied, still confused, wincing as he touched the sore sides of his face.
"Then why couldn't we wake you up, no matter what we did?"
...After the two explained, Bruce finally understood.
It was already past six in the evening. He had gone to bed early that morning, and Kate hadn't woken him at noon because he was sleeping soundly. After lunch, Kate went to work. Although Old John was at home, he was so engrossed in watching the World Cup special on TV that he completely forgot about Bruce.
Kate only realized he was still asleep when she got home from work. She rushed in to check on him, but no matter how loudly she called, he wouldn't wake up. In the end, they had to splash cold water on his face and slap him repeatedly before he finally stirred.
"I've been sleeping all day. Was what just happened a dream?" Bruce thought, though he quickly made up an excuse. "I don't know what happened. Maybe I've just been too tired lately."
Old John went out to make a call and told the ambulance not to come. The two of them had been extremely nervous and had already arranged for a private hospital ambulance.
Kate, still somewhat worried, asked, "Should I take you to the hospital for a check-up?"
"I'm really fine, Mother," Bruce replied, not for any other reason than that he didn't want to waste money.
While many European countries claim to offer high welfare benefits, only a few small Nordic nations have truly achieved this. In countries with larger populations, generous welfare is often just a formality and is difficult to implement effectively.
Of course, the UK provides free healthcare, but it is mostly limited to certain public hospitals. If you want to visit one, it's normal to wait three to five days just to register, and many people end up waiting two to three weeks.
Free medical care is only sufficient for basic ailments like colds and coughs, and you have to be patient and wait. If you have a serious illness, you could be lying in a hospital bed long before you even get a turn.
There are occasional reports in the UK of people calling the public hospital's emergency number when a family member is sick. They call in the morning, and the ambulance might still be on its way by the afternoon.
As a result, families with better financial means often go directly to private hospitals when someone falls ill, and those with even more money have private doctors with whom they maintain long-term arrangements. Private hospitals are efficient, but once you're in, money flows out like water.
Bruce didn't want to waste his money, and he knew that his recent drowsiness wasn't due to illness—it was caused by a system in his body. A talent system.