Ren wakes up with a surge of excitement. It's early, the sky still draped in the soft pinks and blues of dawn, but he's wide awake. His powers have been growing stronger and more responsive, and he's eager to test their limits again.
With a grin, he swings out of bed, feet hitting the floor with purpose.
In the kitchen, he grabs a quick breakfast—a piece of toast and a boiled egg. Each bite is a distraction, the mundane task of eating paling in comparison to what lies ahead. He pushes the plate aside, barely half-finished, and moves straight to his room to begin his morning practice.
Inside his small, cluttered room, Ren stands in the middle of the floor, surrounded by random objects—pens, marbles, a coiled rope. They are nothing more than tools now, props for the show of strength he's about to put on.
He starts simple, focusing on the pen first. With barely a thought, it lifts into the air and begins spinning in lazy circles around him. Faster. He watches it blur, his grin widening as he pushes the limits of its speed.
"I've grown stronger," he murmurs to himself, letting the pen drop with a soft clatter.
Next, he moves to the rope. It's light, coiled at his feet, and with a wave of his hand, it rises, one end lifting into the air. He watches it float without effort, twisting it into complex loops with a flick of his wrist. But that's too easy. What he needs is a challenge.
Focusing hard, Ren pulls at both ends, trying to break the rope. But his mind alone isn't enough; the fibers resist. He frowns, pushing harder, but it's clearly not working. The force is clearly not strong enough to break the rope with just thought. He'll need more force. With a sigh, he lifts both hands, adding the necessary pressure with a sharp motion. The rope snaps with a satisfying crack.
"Now that's more like it." He chuckles, tossing the pieces aside.
And lastly, the main practice: floating. Ren takes a deep breath, feeling his pulse quickening. Slowly, he uses telekinesis on himself, pushing his body off the ground.
He rises smoothly, touching the ceiling easily. His balance is much better this time.
He hovers there, touching the ceiling, suspended mid-air for a full five minutes before gently lowering himself back down. His heart is racing, but this time it's not from effort—it's from excitement.
"Wow, Five minutes," he says aloud, almost in disbelief. "I'm really close to the real deal. And soon... Very soon"
He then gets ready and leaves for the restaurant. The ride is a blur of passing faces, cars, and fleeting thoughts. Ren's mind isn't on the road; it's buzzing from his practice. His powers are becoming more than just a toy—they're evolving, and so is he.
As he rides his bike, he notices the many women he passes by, his thoughts drifting to darker places.
"So many beautiful women out there. I wonder if Incubi will get to tease some of them one night."
His eyes linger a little longer on one particular woman with long, dark hair, her curves accentuated by a tight dress, her body drawing his attention.
"Damn, she's sexy." His imagination runs wild, picturing Incubi's future encounters with her. Wondering what Incubi could do with someone like her. He chuckles to himself, shaking off the thoughts.
"I'll get my chance," he whispers, a crooked smile playing on his lips.
As he arrives at the diner, Ren spots Eva immediately. She's behind the counter, as usual, looking stunning in her fitted work uniform. Her expression, however, is less than inviting.
She barely spares him a glance, her nose slightly wrinkling in disgust—probably still bitter over Nathan quitting the day before.
Ren feels a wave of satisfaction at the thought of how easily he'd unraveled Nathan's resolve.
He steps into the diner, his eyes locked on Eva's face.
"Good morning, beautiful," he says, smirking.
Eva's head turns, eyes narrowing. "What are you staring at, you creep?" Her tone is sharp, but there's a flicker of surprise in her expression.
Ren shrugs, nonchalant. "Just admiring how beautiful you look today."
Her lips curl in disgust. "Eww, don't talk to me, perv!"
But Ren doesn't stop. He leans on the counter, his smirk widening. "What's wrong with calling you beautiful? You know you are."
Eva's face darkens, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "Don't talk to me like we're friends. You're not in my league, understand?"
Huh, okay." Ren laughs quietly to himself. He knew she'd react this way, but her anger doesn't affect him now. It amuses him more than anything.
After some time, Ren heads out for his first delivery. He's feeling playful after his exchange with Eva. At the first house, he drops off the food to a man, takes payment, and as he is about to leave, he trips the guy on purpose. The man stumbles and falls.
"Oh no, you okay? How'd you fall like that?" Ren bends down to help the man, who looks even more baffled.
"I don't know... strange." The man mutters as Ren helps the man up, biting his chuckle, and then leaves.
At the next delivery location, Ren's mood shifts. A young mother, cradling a baby in her arms, opens the door. She smiles warmly, and Ren softens his tone in response.
"Hey there, little one," he says to the baby, his voice gentle. "You're as cute as your mom, aren't you?"
The woman giggles, her smile widening. "Oh, thank you," she says, clearly flattered.
Ren hands her the food, adding, "Your baby's adorable. Looks just like you."
Her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink, and Ren leaves with a wink. As he walks away, he grins to himself. "Smooth."
Back at the diner, things are quieter. Ren lounges near the counter, waiting for his next order.
A few minutes later, the phone at the counter rings. She picks up the phone and her voice gets low but tense. She glances at Ren once while talking. Ren sees her stare at him and feels a pang of paranoia.
Did someone complain about me again?" he wonders. He wouldn't be surprised after his earlier trip stunt. He smirks at the thought of Eva confronting him about it.
But she doesn't call him over. Not yet, at least. After a while, Eva finally summons him. Ren is ready with a sarcastic comment when she yells at him, but instead of scolding him, she simply hands him the next delivery details.
Ren is confused by the lack of aggression from her but shrugs it off. The next order is five pizzas—a big one. "Looks like another party order," he thinks, grabbing the boxes and heading out.
Ren pedals his bike, swiftly going through streets and crowds, and soon arrives at the location. He quickly recognizes the location, it's the same ground where he had played basketball the day before.
The group of girls is there, warming up and playing a casual game. His eyes catch the blonde and the tall girl from yesterday, their presence immediately putting him back in a competitive mood. The order feels heavy in his arms, but his grin is even heavier with confidence.
The tall girl is the first to notice him. She saunters over with a smirk on her face. "Oh, hey, delivery guy. What, you coming back to lose your money?"
Ren hands over the order, a playful glint in his eye. "Maybe. Should you girls really be eating this much pizza?" His voice carries a teasing edge, and the tall girl rolls her eyes with a laugh.
"Oh, don't worry. We'll burn it off when we beat you this time."
Ren raises an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. "Beat me? Are you sure about that? You girls couldn't even keep up last time."
The blonde girl joins them, crossing her arms as she sizes him up. "We've been waiting for you. Want another match? Or are you scared we've improved overnight?"
Ren's pulse quickens, his excitement building. "You're on then. But let's double the bet from yesterday. I'm feeling really generous today."
The girls exchange glances, then nod. The stakes are set, and Ren can't help the thrill that runs through him as they all move toward the court.
The first round starts off easy, Ren letting them get comfortable, his movements smooth and controlled. His telekinesis subtly guides the ball whenever he needs an extra edge, though he makes sure not to overdo it. The girls are laughing, taking the game lightly at first. But as Ren's points start piling up, they begin to focus more, realizing he's not holding back.
"You girls need to flex those young muscles a bit more if you want to win." he teases, eyeing their athletic figures. He can't help but notice how the sun gleams off their sweat-slicked skin, their youthful energy practically radiating off them.
The blonde girl rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in her expression. "Oh, I see. Mr. Funny Delivery Guy is also a perv."
Ren laughs openly, shrugging. "What can I say? I'm a man surrounded by beautiful girls. It's hard to focus on other things."
Another girl pipes up from the sidelines, grinning. "Fair enough. He's good at basketball, at least."
The second round begins, and this time Ren picks up the pace. His control over the ball is too precise for them to keep up. He maneuvers effortlessly, making impossible shots from angles that would normally be too difficult to pull off. The girls try to block him, but they're no match for his enhanced coordination.
"Damn, he's on fire today," one of them mutters, shaking her head in frustration.
Ren only smirks, enjoying the praise. "Told you, I don't go easy on anyone."
By the third round, the game is practically in his hands. He plays hard, showing off just a little more than necessary. His mind races with the thrill of victory, his senses heightened by the competitive edge. As he shoots one last perfect three-pointer, sealing his win, he glances toward the sideline—and freezes for a moment.
A stunning woman is sitting by the field, watching him intently. She's not like the others. Her presence is commanding, her posture confident and poised. Long, brown hair cascades over her shoulders, and her eyes are locked onto him with a look that sends a shiver down his spine. Something about her feels different—more mature, more powerful.
For a moment, Ren falters, the ball slipping from his grip as he stares at her. But he shakes his head and gets back to the game.
Ren easily wins the match, showing off to them while enjoying the view and moments in his life.
After the match, the girls invite Ren to enjoy the pizza with them.
"Sharing pizza with beautiful girls? Who can say no to that?" Ren jokes, sitting down with them.
As they eat, the blonde girl, who seems to have taken a particular interest in Ren, speaks up.
"So, what's your name, anyway? We've been calling you 'delivery guy' all day."
Ren grins, leaning back as he takes a bite of the pizza. "Just your friendly, funny delivery guy," he says, flashing a grin. "But you can call me Ren."
The girls giggle, but their attention shifts as the mysterious woman from the sidelines approaches them.
The atmosphere changes instantly—there's something magnetic about her, something that draws everyone's focus without her even trying. She stands tall, her gaze never leaving Ren.
"Ren, huh? That's a simple name for someone so talented at basketball."
Ren turns to her, his heart skipping a beat as he gets a closer look. She's even more striking up close, with an aura of authority that makes him feel suddenly out of his depth.
The blonde girl before Ren grins, clearly enjoying the tension.
"This is Mrs. Rena," the blonde girl explains. "She's our coach. She was curious about you after we told her how you made that long-distance shot yesterday and wanted to see that for herself."
Mrs. Rena nods, her eyes still locked on him. "Yes, I've been coaching these girls for a while, and am a coach for a long time. But I haven't seen anyone control the ball like you." Her gaze flickers briefly to the basketball in her hand, as if she knows there's more to his skill than meets the eye.
But Ren is a bit lost, staring at Rena's round, bouncy chest. The blonde girl notices, smirking. "Mr. Ren, please stop staring at her chest."
Ren quickly looks away, embarrassed. "Ahh, sorry"
Ren tries to shrug off the compliment, but he can feel her scrutinizing him. "Just lucky, I guess."
"Luck or something more?" Rena's lips curl into a small, knowing smile. She crosses her arms, leaning in slightly as if challenging him. "You've got talent. Have you ever thought about playing professionally?"
The question catches Ren off guard. He blinks, trying to process her words. "Professionally?"
Rena nods, her smile widening. "Yeah. I'm part of a local league, and we're always on the lookout for new players with potential. You could make something of it."
Ren hesitates. A part of him feels tempted by the offer—the thought of playing professionally, being admired, gaining status and attention. But another part of him knows that his victories weren't entirely fair. He wasn't winning because of pure talent. He was cheating.
He meets her gaze, smirking. "I'll think about it."
Mrs. Rena's eyes narrow slightly, her expression unreadable. "Do that." She pulls a small card from her pocket and hands it to him. "In case you decide to take up the offer. We've got tryouts next month."
Ren takes the card, slipping it into his pocket. "Thanks, Mrs. Rena."
"You're welcome, Ren," she says, her voice low and almost suggestive as she turns to leave. For a moment, her eyes flicker with something he can't quite read—curiosity, perhaps, or maybe suspicion.
As she walks away, Ren watches her go, feeling a strange sense of both excitement and unease. He glances down at the card in his hand, the weight of the decision pressing on him.
"Should I really beautiful doing this?"