Luke sat at his desk, elbows resting on the smooth surface, his thoughts sinking deeper and deeper into places he hadn't meant to visit. The room was quiet, filled only with the distant hum of the house and the faint ticking of time. His gaze rested on nothing in particular when his phone suddenly rang.
The sound cut sharply through his thoughts.
He blinked, picked it up, and answered.
"Hey, Luke—are you alright?"
The voice on the other end burst out hurriedly, words tumbling over one another. It sounded tense, nervous, edged with worry.
Luke straightened slightly. "Hey, man, what's wrong?" he asked, confusion coloring his tone. "What's wrong with me?"
Even as he said it, he could already guess the reason.
"Luke, is there anything wrong with your body?" the voice continued without pause. "Any symptoms? Anything at all? Come on, bro, tell me."
The rapid questions piled up one after another, almost giving Luke a headache.
"Peter," Luke said, rubbing his temple, "can you calm down for a second and tell me what happened?"
There was a pause. He could hear heavy breathing on the other end, air being drawn in and released slowly, as if the person was forcing himself to settle down. When Peter spoke again, his voice was steadier, though concern still clung to every word.
"Do you remember the potion?"
Luke exhaled inwardly.
Just as I thought.
"Yeah," Luke replied lightly. "That prank superpower potion, right? What about it?"
He spoke as if nothing were wrong, as if he had no reason to worry.
"Well… it wasn't just a prank," Peter said. "The shop that sold it was arrested this morning. They were selling illegal body enhancers."
Luke's expression remained calm, but his thoughts sharpened.
"Several people who drank it aren't well," Peter continued. "Some were hospitalized. And…" He hesitated. For a few seconds, there was only silence. "…some were even found dead."
Luke's fingers tightened slightly around the phone.
my dad was incharge of the arrests "According to my dad," Peter said quietly, "they were mixing illegal enhancers with normal potions and selling them as joke products."
As Luke listened, his thoughts drifted briefly to his father—away on an official trip for several days now and peters father participations in the arrest . It clicked faintly in his mind peters father and his own were colleagues and parters in department . Friends. This case might very well be connected to that trip.
There's more to this than what they're saying. well selling physical enhacers even though they are illigal , sell as an prank products is still an loss business
If these were truly awakening-related potions, the authorities wouldn't openly discuss it. They would bury it, cover it up, make sure the public never connected it to anything real.
after all an its Troublesome matter .
Still, as long as it didn't threaten him or his family, Luke wasn't overly concerned.
"I'll ask my dad if the chance comes up," he thought absently.
"Hey," Peter's voice broke through again, pulling him back. "Are you even listening?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening," Luke replied. "So… that's why you called?"
He paused, then added casually, "You didn't tell them you drank it, right?"
There was silence on the other end.
A few seconds passed.
Then came an awkward laugh. "Well, I gave you one. Did you really think I wouldn't drink one myself?"
Peter let out a loud, shaky laugh. "We're all safe, that's what matters. You don't know how scared I was when I heard the news."
Luke didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"Well, brother," Luke muttered inwardly, "you don't know that only you're safe. Luke already went to meet the World Tree."
The thought almost made him snort.
After the laughter faded, Peter sighed heavily. When he spoke again, his voice was low and filled with guilt.
"I'm sorry, Luke. Even though it was a joke… this could've caused a real tragedy."
The apology left Luke unsure how to respond.
After all, the one Peter was apologizing to—the original Luke—was already gone. That "tragedy" had already happened, in a way. The guilt was misplaced, but Luke understood where it came from. Peter wasn't careless by nature. He was one of his closest friends, along with three others. Luke knew his character well.
Luke let out a silent sigh.
"Don't blame yourself," he said gently. "It's not like you knew. And we're all fine, right?"
He didn't knew whether he have the right to say this or not , i just need some time for answers to fully accept this life. because he has some doubts about his travel .and he didn't want Peter to carry that guilt.
"…Hey," Luke continued, changing the subject, "where are the others? Did you meet them recently?"
Peter caught on immediately. Luke was diverting the conversation. He didn't push it.
"No, I haven't talked to them lately," Peter replied. "Why? You need something?"
"Not really," Luke said. "Just asking."
"Oh?" Peter chuckled. "Don't tell me—I get it. You want to ask about Sophie, right?"
Luke's face twitched.
"If you have time to tease me," he said dryly, "go do something useful. Bye. I've got work to do."
He ended the call before Peter could say anything else.
Luke dropped the phone onto the desk and leaned back, releasing a long breath. Then he let himself fall onto the bed, eyes closing.
A clear image surfaced in his mind—soft hair, a gentle smile, warmth that spread through his chest like a bonfire on a cold winter night.
He shook his head sharply, pushing the thought away.
Not now.
He could feel it—something settling, something aligning. By tonight, the fusion of body and soul would likely be complete. That was part of why he didn't want to think too much. Doubts still lingered about his time travel whether its transmigration. or whether this was reincarnation with delayed memory awakening, triggered by the potion.
One thing, however, he was certain of.
He did not belong to this world.
According to THE ONE's Unbound effect, his soul was not part of any world or era. That alone confirmed it—he was not a native existence.
Well… World Weekly would answer that soon enough.
He had already decided on his next question. He wanted to know the truth about his arrival here. He hoped—quietly—that this was reincarnation with late awakening. That would make this life truly his, not something stolen from another.
As those thoughts drifted through his mind, sleep claimed him.
He slept deeply. So deeply that he didn't hear the call for dinner.
When his eyes finally opened, the clock read 11:30.
Almost midnight.
Almost time for the Origin draw.
Almost time for the World Weekly answer.
The night was about to speak.