Novel's Extra: I Awakened The Strongest Physique From The Start

CHAPTER 150 - Things to think about.

The next day.

The bustling streets of main peak of the Originveil Academy City sprawled before Alex, alive with the hum of activity. Merchants barked their wares from colorfully adorned stalls, their voices blending with the rhythmic clatter of horse-drawn carts and the chatter of pedestrians.

The air was rich with the scent of fresh bread, exotic spices, and a hint of distant rain, promising a downpour later. Lanterns swayed gently on wires strung across the street, their faint glow competing with the fading afternoon sun.

Alex weaved through the crowd, his hood drawn low, his gaze distant.

He hadn't told anyone about his arrival. He wanted to keep his arrival right now a secret.

He didn't know how the student council was holding out yet. He had asked Zahara about some things, and although he knew that his presence in the council hall was needed, he had one matter to attend to before that.

Right now, Alex's mind kept replaying the recent battle, each moment etched into his memory.

The abilities he had brought from the system had been his saving grace, a thought that brought him a mixture of relief and unease.

He knew that if he were to face an opponent who wasn't an assassin and had many destructive abilities, it would be a harder battle.

Among his abilities, some had been extraordinarily costly—life, death, time, and space abilities being the most draining. Yet now, he could hardly imagine surviving without them.

[Life ability helped you heal,] Sophie's familiar voice chimed in his head, her tone tinged with her usual analytical detachment.

Alex nodded subtly, recalling the green aura that had knitted his wounds closed during the direst moments of combat.

[Time ability enhanced your speed when you needed it most,] she continued, her voice steady as Alex's memories shifted to the blurring edges of his own movements, dodging blows that would have been fatal.

[Space ability allowed you to evade the deadliest strikes,] Sophie reminded him, and Alex could almost feel the cool distortion of reality as he stepped through an assassin's blade.

[And death ability…] Sophie's voice softened, her words carrying a heavier weight, [It held the assassins in place, sealing their fates.]

The memory surfaced unbidden: his death gaze freezing his enemies, their faces contorted in terror as the overwhelming force of destruction energy consumed them.

Death is an element many humans abhor. Not because it's weak but because it's... death.

Alex, however, didn't care about those things. All he cared about was the fact that death abilities were powerful.

The death gaze he had was an ability that made even those immortal assassins imagine their deaths and freeze in their spots. It was an ability that attacked the mentality and was almost unavoidable.

That, however, wasn't the only thing going on in his head. He had some other things—things way more important than thinking about his ability—going on his head.

The backstabber. Alex knew who it was that had colluded with the assassins. But the problem was that Alex didn't yet have the proof.

The thing was that even the emperor knew who it was. No matter how humble and straight the emperor of the Drakathor Empire, Maurice Drakathor, may look, he wasn't an emperor without ability.

If Alex were to say what kind of emperor Maurice was, then he would say that he was a guy who was supposed to be the king of a kingdom rather than an emperor of a grand and majestic empire.

Maurice didn't have the bearing of someone who had the power of the whole Drakathor Empire in his hand.

But that was something Alex found himself thankful for.

'If he were someone who uses his power recklessly, then my plans for the future would be disturbed,' Alex thought as he recalled the look Maurice had when he bid Alex farewell.

That guy was probably racking his brain because he didn't want his son to die.

Maurice cared for Alex—no doubt about it. He cared for Alex like he did for his own son, but now that his son had done something like this, what was he supposed to do?

Tell Vanessa the truth and see his son die? Can a father ever do it to his own son?

No matter how bad a son is, no father would want to see him die.

Alex was sure that Maurice, a guy who wouldn't want unnecessary violence, would beat Darvin black and blue for what he had done; he might even seize every right from that guy, but never would he be able to see his son die.

'Don't worry, Uncle,' Alex, looking at his clenched fists, spoke to himself, 'I wouldn't want to see tears in yours or Aunt's eyes.'

'Your son won't die, but the one behind him sure would,' he concluded, focusing back on the path in front of him.

The crowd thinned as Alex moved into the quieter district of inns and rental homes. The air grew stiller here, the hum of the marketplace fading into the distance.

Trees lined the cobblestone streets, their branches arching overhead like a natural canopy. The occasional flutter of leaves in the breeze punctuated the calm.

Alex stopped in front of a three-story house with weathered stone walls and ivy creeping up its facade. It stood unassuming among its neighbors, but Alex knew better. Leaning casually against the wall, he let his eyes drift, watching the world pass by.

A moment later, a woman approached him, her head bowed respectfully.

"Good morning, Master," she said, her voice soft yet firm.

Alex nodded, his expression unreadable. "How's his situation?" he asked, his tone measured.

The woman straightened slightly. "His mother's health isn't improving," she reported. "He's been working tirelessly, going out frequently to gather remedies and funds. Recently, he designed something resembling a voting board and sold it to a minor merchant from the Merchant Association. He's cautious, ensuring he doesn't get involved in anything beyond his means, even though he knows you're supporting him."

Alex's gaze darkened momentarily, a flicker of thought passing through his eyes. 'He doesn't want to fall deeper into my debt,' he mused inwardly. After a moment, he looked at the woman and said, "Keep watching. Inform me if there's any change."

"As you wish," she replied, disappearing into the streets as swiftly as she had appeared.

Alex's thoughts lingered on the boy's predicament, but a sudden voice shattered his reverie.

"Alex Drakathor?"

The voice was gruff, edged with a faint accent that carried the weight of years of frustration.

Alex turned to see a boy with a thin frame, black hair, black eyes, glasses witting on his nose, and an average height.

It was Thorin Anvilbrow. The guy stood before him, his piercing eyes scanning the surroundings before settling on Alex.

"I was waiting for you," Alex said, a faint smile playing at his lips. Stay connected through My Virtual Library Empire

Thorin's eyes narrowed as he gestured toward the house. "Let's go up and talk," he said, his voice low as he knew why Alex had come. He was prepared for this moment after all.

Alex pushed off the wall, following Thorin through the sturdy wooden door.

'This guy would never change,' he chuckled inwardly.

The last time he had seen the guy, he was pretty shaken, speaking with respect and fear, but he seemed to have returned to how he was by now—something Alex found to be better.

He didn't want meek Thorin; he wanted the Thorin, who would become one of the most influential craftsmen in the future.