Leo opened his eyes again.
Lazy sunlight slanted in through the window, shining on him and filling him with a faint warmth.
A thin blanket covered him, and the sounds of cooking came from the kitchen.
But he could clearly feel that Jenny was deliberately moving more quietly, trying her best not to make a sound.
George was sitting at the table beneath the window, seriously reading the newspaper in his hands.
At the same time, he was blocking the sunlight from reaching Leo's face.
Although Leo had opened his eyes, he did not get up at once. Instead, he lay on the sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling.
The scene made him feel more relaxed and content than ever before.
Perhaps this was the kind of time he had longed for in his previous life.
Ever since he had come to this world and heard the stories of Captain America and Stark Industries,
as well as learned about his own inexplicably strange digestive ability,
he had felt more than just excitement. More than anything else, there had always been a sense of urgency weighing on him.
After all, he knew what would happen in the future. The Battle of New York, the Battle of Sokovia, and even that snap at the end of Endgame had filled him with a sense of crisis, making it impossible for him to guarantee his own safety.
He also did not dare gamble on that final fifty-percent chance.
Therefore, he had never stopped, constantly working hard to cultivate.
At first, it might have been merely to give himself a bit of power to protect himself in this dangerous world.
But now, he finally felt that he could let out a sigh of relief.
Although he had gained many more bonds during this time,
both