Digestion II

The following night.

After training, Gilan washed up.

He tied a bath towel around his waist, bare-chested and muscular, his loose hair draped over his shoulders as he stood before the floor-length mirror in the master bedroom.

Gilan looked at the young man in the mirror and fell silent.

Compared to when he had first transmigrated here, he now looked like an entirely different person. If the two versions of him were placed side by side, no one would be able to tell that they were the same person.

Especially since only half a year had passed.

The changes were simply too great...

Not only had his height and build changed, but his looks had improved by more than a single level. Most notably, his aura had become increasingly sharp and wild, yet beneath it seemed to lie an indescribable mystery and elegance.

"My hair is getting redder and redder."

Gilan studied himself in the mirror, lifting a lock of hair as he murmured.

His shoulder-length hair, which he had not tended to in a long time, was still wet. Under the light, it showed a gradient from crimson at the roots to golden yellow at the tips.

His eyes were no longer blue either.

They were a deep purple!

"Is this the change brought about by Mad Owl Form after half a month of 'extreme training'... My body is gradually adapting to its burden, and it has even begun undergoing irreversible changes."

Gilan muttered to himself as he analyzed it.

He took a deep breath and lowered his head to inspect his palms—his skin was fair, his fingers long and slender. They looked nothing like the hands of someone accustomed to slaughter and battle; instead, they resembled a pianist's hands.

Gilan did not feel overly worried or uncomfortable about