Five Years Passed
A gentle breeze flowed through the open windows of an opulent study, the sunlight streaming in and casting golden patterns across the mahogany furniture. The room was filled with bookshelves that reached the ceiling, their contents neatly arranged by subject. At the center of the room sat a boy no older than five, his sharp, jet-black hair slightly ruffled. He had his father's strikingly dark skin and his mother's enchanting almond-shaped eyes—a unique combination that made him stand out even as a child.
Reader, now fully immersed in his second life, closed the book in front of him with a sigh, leaning back in the padded chair.
"Five years already," Reader mused internally. "Time sure moves differently when you're starting over."
He had come to several realizations about his new world.
One, he thought, the system hasn't been as active as I'd hoped. Other than deflecting spirits, it doesn't seem to do much. His gaze drifted to the corner of the room, where a translucent figure stood, staring at the books. The ghost's presence had long stopped bothering him.
"Two," he continued inwardly, if I ignore the spirits, they tend to ignore me. Out of sight, out of mind, I suppose.
But the third point still gave him pause.
"Three. If I think or say the word 'Status,' the system displays my information," Reader thought. His fingers twitched as if tempted to try it, but he was pulled from his reverie by a sharp SMACK!
A ruler cracked against the back of his neck.
"Are you listening, Young Master Reader?" came the stern voice of an older man.
"Argh! Yes, George, I'm listening!" Reader yelped, rubbing the glowing red spot on his neck.
George, the family butler, stood over him with an unimpressed expression. His steel-grey hair and beard gave him an imposing aura, but it was his unwavering discipline that made him a force to be reckoned with.
"You should be more focused, Master Reader," George said. "Your father would not tolerate such inattentiveness."
"Is this what being a rich kid feels like?" Reader thought, wincing at the sting. "I thought rulers were banned in modern parenting. Guess I was wrong."
George tapped the ruler against his palm. "Fine. Let us continue, then. Recite the family creed."
Reader sighed, sitting up straighter. Despite George's strictness, Reader couldn't bring himself to dislike the old man. "He's harsh, but he's only trying to keep me from getting scolded by my father," he reasoned.
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Later that Evening – The Dining Room
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The dining room was as lavish as the study, with a long, polished table stretching across the room. At its head sat Rowan Rayward, Reader's father, an imposing man with the same jet-black hair as his son. His piercing gaze could silence a room, though tonight, his expression was calm.
Eleanor sat beside Reader, her presence warm and gentle, a perfect foil to Rowan's sternness. She often reached over to wipe Reader's face or ruffle his hair, much to his embarrassment. George stood silently by Rowan's chair, his posture straight and unyielding.
"So," Rowan began, his deep voice cutting through the clinking of silverware. "How were your studies today, Reader?"
Reader swallowed the bite of food in his mouth and straightened up. "It was... a great experience, Father," he said carefully.
Rowan's lips curled into a faint smirk. "You know, George was also my tutor when I was your age."
Reader blinked in surprise, nearly choking on his food. "What? Really?"
"True," Rowan said, glancing at George, whose expression didn't waver.
Eleanor chuckled. "Not only that, but George used to pick Rowan up from school. Can you imagine? Even in high school!"
Rowan cleared his throat, a faint blush creeping up his stoic face. "Ahem. That's enough reminiscing."
Eleanor giggled, clearly enjoying teasing her husband.
Rowan's tone turned serious. "Speaking of school, it's about time you started attending."
Reader's fork paused midway to his mouth. "What? Why?" he asked, incredulous. School was the last thing he wanted to deal with again.
"You need proper social and communication skills," George interjected from his post.
Reader groaned inwardly. "That might make sense if I weren't a reincarnated adult, but I can't exactly tell them that, can I?"
"Fine," Reader muttered, clearly unenthused.
Eleanor smiled, leaning toward him. "Plus, who knows? You might find a girlfriend there."
"Mother!" Reader blurted, his face heating up.
'I'm a grown man, lets hope the authorities don't hear of this'Reader thought
Rowan chuckled, shaking his head. "That might be moving a little fast, Eleanor."
The room erupted into lighthearted laughter, the tension of earlier conversations forgotten. Reader, despite his reservations about school, couldn't help but feel comforted by the warmth of his family—however imperfect they might be.