CHAPTER 29: EX 29. OUTING

Two hours later.

The door creaked open with a soft knock. A pair of light footsteps entered the room.

"Young Master Leon, breakfast is ready," came Mary’s voice, calm and practiced—though this time, there was no trace of suprise she would have carried when finding him asleep past dawn.

News traveled fast in the mansion of Leon’s win against Dayton Feran so she no longer thought that he had given up on his training but instead she assumed that he had been secretly training.

’I shouldn’t have doubted him. A stupid ranking won’t be enough to make him give up.’

Leon blinked awake slowly, sunlight filtering through the curtains. As he sat up, squinting at her and interrupting her thoughts.

Then, that lazy, half-cocky grin spread across his face.

"Thanks, Mary. You’re always so helpful."

His voice was low, smooth—still wrapped in morning haze.

Mary stiffened slightly, trying to keep her composure, but the light dusting of pink rising on her cheeks betrayed her.

’That smile again.’

Even after all these years, she still wasn’t immune.

"M-My duty, young master," she stammered, turning away slightly. "You don’t need to thank me for anything." She fidgeted with the edge of her gown, flustered. "Your breakfast is ready. You should go while I take care of the bed."

Leon tilted his head.

Then smirked.

"Why don’t you take care of the bed... with me in it?"

Mary froze.

Her face turned beet red.

Then she broke.

"B-But I’m just a maid! What about Lady Elizabeth? But if you really want it, I... I won’t mind. And if we have children, what should we name them? Maybe—"

"Hahahahaha" Leon burst into laughter, falling back onto the bed.

"Mary, you really crack me up."

Mary blinked—processing—and then realization struck like lightning.

Her face lit up with embarrassment.

"Young Master!" she cried out, grabbing the nearest pillow.

But Leon was already moving.

He dodged the pillow, laughing as he slipped out of bed and sprinted to the door. "Still too slow!" he called out, closing it behind him just before a second pillow thunked into the wood.

Inside, Mary stood there, flushed and fuming—but smiling.

"He can be so annoying sometimes," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

Then she chuckled to herself and began tidying his room.

The dining room was silent.

Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long golden streaks across the polished marble floor. The table stretched endlessly, yet only a single chair was pulled out—Leon’s.

He sat with a fork in one hand, lazily stabbing at his eggs before taking a bite. The food was perfect, as always. Hot, balanced, probably the work of four chefs and a nutritionist.

But the silence? That was normal.

Leon glanced around the empty seats. "Guess everyone’s busy as usual."

His voice echoed softly in the vast room.

"Having two SS-rank parents and a sister who’s a Crimson Commander..." He chuckled dryly, chewing the next bite. "It’s a miracle I even saw them this week."

After finishing the last bite, Leon pushed the plate away and stood up, brushing his white hair back with a sigh. "Might as well head back."

Back in his room, the change was instant.

The space felt immaculate. Floors gleamed, his bed was tighter than military regulation, and even his shoes were neatly lined up with soldierly precision. There was a faint scent of lavender—Mary’s signature finish.

Leon smiled, genuinely this time. "She really went all out, huh?"

He flopped onto the bed, arms spread wide. The sheets were still warm from the sun.

"So... now what do I do?"

A pause. The silence returned, but this time it was heavier because it was tinged with boredom.

"If it were before, I’d be training... or meditating... trying to squeeze out stats like some desperate sponge."

He stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly.

But that was before.

Before My {Attack} talent.

Now, his growth didn’t come in drips and strain and sweat.

It came in bursts—every swing, every blow, every impact.

Where others took weeks to gain a few points, he advanced in days.

Training the old way would not be not be cost-effective. Not even close.

"Since training’s out... what do I do now?" he muttered, arms flopping down dramatically.

A few seconds passed.

Then his eyes widened as his mouth dropped open.

"Oh my god... it can’t be."

He bolted upright.

"I’m a total loser."

He clutched his head, half-joking, half-serious.

"I can’t think of anything to do apart from training. My life was literally just grinding and chatting with Elizabeth. That was it. That was the whole damn routine."

He collapsed back onto the bed with theatrical exhaustion, groaning into the pillow.

After a minute of wallowing, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand, swiping it open with hope in his eyes.

Contacts:

Mom

Dad

Big Sis

Elizabeth

He blinked.

Then sighed. "Four. Four people. I’m nineteen and I have four people on my contact list. What is wrong with me?"

With a grunt, he tossed the phone across the bed like it betrayed him. It bounced twice, landing softly on the covers.

Leon stared at the ceiling.

Then—

"Wait."

His eyes lit up as he sat up straight.

"Yes! I know who I can meet."

He sprang off the bed like a man possessed, dashing to his wardrobe. Clothes flew as he grabbed something clean and sharp, practically suiting up mid-stride.

And with that, he left the room as the door shut behind him with a soft click.

****

The ice cream shop was cozy and bright, filled with warm yellow lighting, soft chatter, and the occasional sound of whipped cream being sprayed behind the counter. It was the kind of place that smelled like sugar and nostalgia.

In a corner booth, enclosed in a half-glass cage designed for privacy, Leon sat with one leg crossed over the other, his fingers drumming against the small round table.

He wore a black jacket layered over a crisp white shirt, with tailored black trousers and polished black shoes that gleamed under the table. His snow-white hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, keeping it from falling into his eyes.

In front of him sat a half-finished cup of chocolate ice cream, the spoon sticking out like a lazy flag.

A few girls walked by his table, stealing glances his way. Some giggled softly while others lingered just a bit longer than necessary hoping that Leon would look over so that they could strike a conversation. This usually happened whenever Leon stepped out and Elizabeth was not around to keep other girls away from him, but even without Elizabeth Leon learnt that to handle this situation he just had to ignore them and they would go away.

So Leon didn’t pay attention to his admirers as his eyes were constantly on the door.

Ding.

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A/N: Please send power stones and leave reviews.

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