The heavy scent of cheap lemon cleaner hung thickly in the air of the living room.
The four thugs stood in a line near the front door, panting heavily, their clothes soaked in sweat.
They had scrubbed the baseboards until their fingers bled, polished the windows until they were entirely transparent, and ripped out every single thornbush in the front yard.
The rusted hinges of the gate had been completely doused in oil and no longer squeaked.
".."
They looked terrified, waiting for the monster on the mattress to pass judgment.
Lucian sat up on his new bed and slowly pulled one of his black headphones off his ear, looked at the spotless floorboards, at the gleaming windows, then looked at the four trembling street criminals.
He raised his hand and pointed lazily toward the open front door.
"Stop doing bad stuff anymore, go get a job and don't come back." Lucian said, his voice flat and entirely devoid of any preachy moral weight.
"...!!??"
The wiry leader stared at him, tears of absolute, unfiltered relief welling in his eyes. He had fully expected to be executed and buried under the floorboards the moment the cleaning was done.
"Yes sir!" the leader sobbed, bowing so deeply he nearly hit his head on the pristine floor.
"We're done! We're going straight! Thank you, boss! Thank you!"
Without waiting for Lucian to change his mind, the four thugs scrambled out the door, sprinting down the cracked sidewalk as if the hounds of hell were snapping at their heels.
Lucian watched them go and let out a quiet sigh and placed his headphone back over his ear.
He lay back down on the incredibly soft mattress, ready to finally enjoy his empty house. But as he stared up at the ceiling, a persistent annoying thought breached the edges of his exhausted mind.
The thugs had kicked the front door open with zero effort. The iron gate was oiled, but the lock was broken. If some low street criminals could just wander into his house, it meant that stray dogs, noisy kids, or worse, curious city guards could do the exact same thing.
His house was clean, but it was entirely unprotected.
"..."
He considered his options. He could hire a Guild-affiliated contractor to install a high-tier mana-warding system...
But that meant finding a company, filling out forms, talking to a sales representative, and having loud workmen stomping around his house for three days.
The sheer logistical friction of that idea made his bones ache.
"Too much work..." Lucian mumbled to the empty room.
He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. If he wanted to sleep uninterrupted for the rest of his life, he was going to have to do the security himself or rather... fixed this whole place up.
He stood up, shoved his hands into the pockets of his black jacket, and walked out the front door into the small yard.
The thugs had ripped out the weeds, leaving behind a barren, rectangular patch of dry, dead dirt surrounded by cracked concrete walls. It was ugly, but it was a blank canvas perfect for what he will do.
Lucian walked to the center of the yard.
Since transmigrating into this frail, nineteen-year-old body, Lucian had mostly relied on his first ability the terrifying, crushing gravity of his life as "Experimental subject no. 01"
But his soul was an ancient, bottomless ocean. He hadn't just lived one past life... he had lived hundred times of them.
And when his soul had anchored itself to Lucian Thorne, it had brought absolutely everything with it.
He didn't just have the power of his first life.
He had the accumulated magic, skills, and affinities of hundred different existences.
Lucian crouched down. He pulled his uninjured hand from his pocket and placed his pale palm flat against the dry dirt.
He closed his eyes and bypassed the violent, bloody memories of his monster lives, reaching instead for his 3rd Life.
The life of a High Elf... 'Runia'
He didn't chant, nor draw a runic circle. He just simply let the dormant nature affinity flow from his core. It poured out of his palm like a rushing stream of liquid emerald, soaking rapidly into the parched soil.
*Grumble!
The ground beneath him gently rumbled.
Instantly, the dead dirt burst into life. A vibrant, lush carpet of pristine green grass shot up from the soil, spreading outward in a perfect circle.
*Whoosh!
Exotic, colorful flowers bloomed in the blink of an eye, releasing a soft, sweet fragrance that completely erased the smoggy scent of his old house.
Right between Lucian's hands, the dirt parted and a tiny, faintly glowing green sapling pushed its way to the surface.
Lucian fed it a fraction more of his mana.
The sapling rocketed upward, the trunk thickened, expanding from the size of a finger to the width of a pillar in seconds, a thick, powerful roots tore through the ground, anchoring themselves deep into the bedrock.
Heavy branches stretched outward like massive wooden arms, unfurling thousands of shimmering, emerald leaves and within moments, a colossal, majestic tree towered over the property.
Its massive canopy completely shadowed the house, forming a natural, impenetrable barrier of ancient, soothing mana that instantly muted the distant sounds of city traffic.
Lucian stood up, stepping back to look at his work. The yard felt much better, but it was missing something to balance the heavy presence of the tree.
He shifted his affinity. He tapped into his another ability in his past body.
Earth magic of a grand-mage life, aiming a finger at the corner of the yard. The soil seamlessly caved in on itself, forming a deep, perfectly smooth circular depression.
Large, polished river stones pulled themselves up from deep underground, locking together to line the edge of the hole.
With a lazy flick of his wrist, he switched to Water magic, a crisp, crystal-clear water erupted from the base of the stones, filling the pond to the exact brim before settling into a perfectly still, glass-like surface.
Finally, Lucian turned his attention to the perimeter. He hated the rusted iron fence and the cracked, graffiti-stained concrete walls that bordered his property.
He stamped his foot lightly against the grass. A pulse of dense Earth mana shot outward.
The cracked concrete walls violently shuddered. The fissures sealed themselves instantly, the stone smoothing out and rising two feet higher. The rusted iron bars of the front gate straightened out, the rust flaking away to reveal dark, heavy, reinforced steel.
Within a single second, the flimsy perimeter was transformed into a pristine, impenetrable gate.
Lucian dusted off his hands. He looked around the enclosed, perfectly quiet, magically warded courtyard.
His eyes drifted back up to the massive, glowing tree in the center, it's leaves shimmered with a faint, ethereal light, humming with a frequency that calmed the mind and repelled any malicious intent.
Lucian stared at it, his face entirely blank, though a very faint, nostalgic light flickered in his golden eyes.
"...It's been a long time since I saw the World Tree," Lucian murmured to himself.
He had successfully reconstructed a piece of ancient myth, an entity that had once sustained entire civilizations, right in the middle of a modern industrial slum.
And he had done it entirely so he wouldn't be woken up from his nap.
Satisfied with his minimum-effort security system, Lucian turned his back on the World Tree, walked inside his clean house, and went back to bed.