The setting sun dyed the street an oversaturated orange-red, like a texture map rendered wrong by a graphics card.
Lu Ren and Kiyosawa Mashiba walked side by side, their shadows stretching long and thin. At the fork in the road, they stopped in perfect unison.
"See you tomorrow, Mr. Brick." Kiyosawa Mashiba waved, her smile especially sly in the evening glow. "Don't forget to read the strategy guide. If you lose too badly on Saturday, I'll pretend I don't know you."
"Don't worry. I'm an expert at reloading saves." Lu Ren waved lazily.
After watching the girl skip lightly into the neighboring yard, Lu Ren turned and opened his own front door.
Though he'd said he'd make volleyball his Main Quest, the moment he stepped inside, a system notification seemed to ring in his mind: [You have entered the Safe House. HP/MP recovery rate +100%.]
He had just changed his shoes when a powerful aroma drifted down the hallway.
It was the scent of Sichuan peppercorns and cypress branches, mixed with the savory fragrance of sizzling fat.
Lu Ren's olfactory radar activated instantly.
"Mom, I'm home."
He casually tossed the backpack full of volleyball guides onto the sofa, then followed the smell straight to the kitchen.
In the kitchen, a middle-aged woman wearing an apron was busy with her back to him. Amid the roar of the range hood, she expertly tossed the pan, her movements crisp and efficient, with a hint of a martial arts master's flair.
Lu Ren leaned over to take a look.
The plate was piled with thinly sliced sausage, translucent and marbled red and white, glistening with oil under the light.
"Did Grandma Nishikawa send this?" Lu Ren swallowed, his right hand darting toward a small piece of meat near the edge of the plate.
He had practiced this Sleight of Hand move countless times in games. Its success rate was as high as 95%.
However.
Just as his fingertips were about to touch the sausage, a hand holding a spatula appeared out of nowhere, stopping precisely three centimeters above his wrist.
No contact.
But the sharp sword energy—or rather, killing intent—froze Lu Ren's fingers in midair.
Mother Lu turned around.
Her face was well-kept. Though fine lines creased the corners of her eyes, her gaze was still as sharp as a blade.
"You're trying to sneak a bite without washing your hands?" Mother Lu's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unquestionable authority. "Go ahead and try. Let's see if your hand is faster or my spatula."
[System warning: High-level wild BOSS encountered. Level gap is too great. Tactical retreat recommended.]
Lu Ren gave an awkward chuckle, withdrew his hand, and wiped it on his pants. "I was just going to help you check the seasoning. The color, the texture—it's practically a legendary-quality item."
"Cut the jokes." Mother Lu shot him a look and plated the stir-fried greens. "Go wash your hands and tell your dad to come eat. He's been holed up in his study for ages without a peep. Who knows what he's up to now."
"Yes, ma'am."
Lu Ren gave an imperfect salute and slipped out of the kitchen.
After washing his hands, he went to the study.
The door was ajar.
Lu Ren didn't knock. As a veteran stealth-game player, he knew that going straight in would only let him see a carefully disguised facade.
He softened his steps, adjusted his breathing, and made himself as inconspicuous as possible.
Stealth Skill (Passive) activated.
Like a ghost, he drifted to the doorway and peered inside through the crack.
At the desk, his father, Comrade Lu Jianguo—the man who usually held a teacup and solemnly discussed the stock market and international affairs—was wearing a pair of reading glasses and leaning almost flat over the desk.
He held a pair of fine tweezers. Spread out in front of him was a huge blueprint, along with countless tiny plastic parts.
He looked ten times more focused than he had when poring over Lu Ren's college entrance exam practice tests.
Lu Ren silently pushed the door open and walked up behind Lu Jianguo.
The items on the desk slowly came into focus.
White armor, blue paint, and that iconic V-shaped antenna.
It was RX-93, the Nu Gundam. Judging by the number of parts and the color separation, it was definitely PG (Perfect Grade) scale.
"That nub cleanup isn't good enough, Old Lu."
Lu Ren's ghostly voice sounded beside Lu Jianguo's ear. "The sanding's too rough. You'll end up with big gaps."
"Holy crap!"
Lu Jianguo jolted, nearly flinging the tweezers from his hand. He whipped around, and only after seeing his own son did he pat his chest, still shaken.
"You little brat! Why don't you make a sound when you walk? Trying to scare your old man to death so you can inherit my Ant Credit PayLater?"
Lu Jianguo quickly rolled up the blueprint and tried to block the conspicuous pile of parts on the desk with his body. He put on an awkward yet dignified smile. "Well... I'm working. Yes, repairing... some precision equipment for the company."
Lu Ren folded his arms and looked at his father with amusement.
"Precision equipment?" Lu Ren pointed at the robot head that hadn't been assembled yet. "Can this equipment launch funnels? Does it need an Amuro Ray as its pilot, too?"
Lu Jianguo's expression froze.
Since he'd been found out, he stopped pretending. His shoulders sagged, and he wore a deeply troubled expression.
"All right, you've got a sharp eye." Lu Jianguo sighed, took off his reading glasses, and rubbed his eyes. "I only got into this recently. It's just... our wedding anniversary is coming up, isn't it?"
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