The events of the previous night left PK unusually quiet.
As dawn crept in, he sat alone, his thoughts heavier than they had been since his rebirth. For the first time in a long while, he did not feel invincible. He felt… exposed.
Right now, he had money—but not enough. Influence—but shallow. Power—but incomplete.
"Yes, I have resources," he admitted inwardly. "But they are fragile."
A newly acquired city. A newly formed squad. A captain's title that carried potential, not authority. He had not yet built achievements worthy of fear or respect. He had not earned loyalty from the nation, nor carved a name that powerful figures hesitated to speak aloud.
His military backing was thin. His political roots nonexistent.
And worst of all—he had people he cared about.
That was his greatest weakness.
"I can face powerful enemies myself," PK thought calmly, his eyes darkening. "But I cannot yet protect everyone around me."
That realization struck harder than any defeat.
With his current level of strength, if real predators moved, his loved ones would become targets. He could fight. He could win battles. But wars were different. Wars demanded foundations—wealth, influence, fear, reputation, and unshakable competence.
Right now, he stood at the base of that mountain.
PK did not rage.
He accepted it.
Acceptance was clarity.
"I rushed forward," he admitted. "I moved too fast."
He had relied heavily on instinct, intellect, and a few awakened abilities—but many remained untouched, unpolished, unfinished. His combat skills were improving rapidly. His tactical thinking was sharp. His hacking abilities were already terrifying.
But there were gaps.
Large ones.
"I haven't even touched my medical skills," he realized. "That alone could change everything."
Medicine meant leverage. Survival. Control over life and death. Influence beyond borders. Combined with his other abilities, it could become something far more dangerous than brute force.
And that was only one domain.
PK slowly clenched his fist.
"It's time to stop expanding outward," he decided. "And start refining inward."
No more reckless exposure. No more unnecessary confrontations. Before challenging families like Root, before stepping into deeper political or financial waters, he needed to sharpen every blade he possessed—to its absolute peak.
Strength. Intelligence. Medical mastery. Strategy. Leadership.
All of it.
Only then would he move again.
A faint, unreadable smile appeared on his lips.
"The world can wait," PK thought.
"But when I move next… it won't be luck they fear."