"Actually, I'm glad the manor has a gym. The equipment there is very complete, but I've never seen any of you use it." Laura Croft shrugged. As an amateur gymnast fully capable of competing in the Olympic Games, she not only followed an extremely strict training regimen but also adhered to rigorous nutritional standards. She had seen none of that at the manor—or rather, she had not seen any standards meant for ordinary people. However, the sports supplements and various secret herbal formulas available to her had significantly improved her physical condition.
This was casual conversation at the dining table, and aside from Athena sitting nearby with a cold expression, there were no limits to the topic. Of course, since not everyone at the table was an adult woman, their conversation did not immediately veer into vulgar territory or sharing last night's experiences. Once Witches loosened their tongues, even the most unladylike subjects would come pouring from between their lips. Though they did not use crude scatological language, phrases like "** stronger than a Minotaur" or "muscles tighter than a hunting python" were enough to make even Salomon flee with a red face.
On the surface, Athena had been unable to return to New York overnight because it was too late. In truth, she simply wanted to come to the manor but had been too embarrassed to say so directly. After spending some time together, Laura Croft had gradually grown accustomed to this woman, whose expression after arriving at the manor resembled that of an evil stepmother in a Disney animation. The radiance and awe of their first meeting had become familiar enough for her mind to grow numb to them. Athena was quite tolerant toward intelligent people. Before the others arrived, she had told Laura Croft, after her morning