I wake up slowly this time.
Not the violent gasp from before. Not panic clawing at my throat. Just a quiet, gradual return to awareness, like surfacing from deep water where the pressure finally eases.
The first thing I register is warmth.
Not heat, comfort. The kind that sinks into your bones and makes you want to stay still. The mattress beneath me feels unreal. Not soft in a cheap way, not stiff either. It supports me exactly where it should, like it's been tuned to my body.
My body.
That thought alone is enough to pull me fully awake.
I open my eyes.
Same ceiling as before. Smooth, white, expensive. The chandelier above me is dimmed now, its crystal pieces catching soft morning light filtering through half-open curtains. The room smells faintly of clean linen and something floral—lavender, maybe.
I don't move right away.
Rule one still applies: observe.
My breathing is steady. Heart rate normal. No pain anywhere, not even a dull ache. That's wrong. I died yesterday. Even if this is a dream or some elaborate delusion, pain should exist somewhere.
I flex my fingers beneath the blanket.
Smooth motion. Immediate response.
I lift my arm, slowly pulling the blanket down.
Broad chest. Defined muscle. No scars. No marks. Skin unblemished like it's never known hardship.
I exhale quietly through my nose.
"Yeah. Still ridiculous." I murmur to myself.
A soft knock comes from the door. Three taps. Polite. Controlled.
I turn my head slightly toward the sound, already running scenarios. If this is a continuation of the hallucination, consistency matters. If it's real…then this body, this environment, this family—they come with rules I need to learn fast.
"Hyun-Jae?" A woman's voice calls gently.
Ji-Young.
My mother. At least in this life.
"I'm awake." I reply.
My voice comes out smooth again. Calm. No hesitation. I don't sound like someone who just cheated death. I sound like someone who expects the world to listen when he speaks.
The door opens.
Ji-Young steps in first, careful like she's afraid of startling me. She's changed since last night, comfortable home clothes now, soft cardigan over a simple blouse. Her hair is tied loosely at the back of her neck, a few strands escaping around her face.
Her eyes find me immediately.
And then they soften.
"Oh, thank goodness." She breathes, relief flooding her expression. She crosses the room in quick steps and sits on the edge of the bed, one hand already reaching out to touch my arm. "How do you feel? Dizzy? Hungry? Headache? You didn't sleep much after the doctor left, but I didn't want to wake you—"
"I'm fine." I say gently.
Not defensive. Reassuring.
She freezes for half a second, then smiles, visibly calming. "You always say that."
Behind her, the door opens wider.
Kwon Dae-Hyun enters without ceremony.
He's already dressed for the day—tailored slacks, crisp shirt, no tie yet. He looks like a man who's used to mornings starting before the rest of the world catches up. His gaze flicks to me, sharp and quick, assessing.
Alive. Standing? No, sitting up. Color good. Breathing steady.
His shoulders loosen a fraction.
"Good morning. You gave us a scare." He says.
"I heard." I reply.
A corner of his mouth twitches. Almost a smile. Ji-Young shoots him a look. "That's all you're going to say?"
"I'm not good with dramatics." He answers calmly, then looks back at me. "Your vitals were stable all night. The doctor says it was exhaustion and dehydration. Stress."
Stress.
I nearly laugh.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to worry you." I say again. The word comes easily. Ji-Young immediately reaches up and cups my cheek. Her thumb brushes just beneath my eye, light and affectionate. "You don't ever need to apologize for that."
I hold her gaze, searching for cracks. For doubt. For hesitation.
There's none.
This affection is real. Deep. Unquestioning.
Which is terrifying.
I nod once, accepting it. Dae-Hyun clears his throat. "You're not going to school today." I glance at him. "I'm not?"
"That wasn't a suggestion."
A beat.
I smile faintly. "Yes, sir." Ji-Young laughs softly. "See? He knows."
Knows what?
That this is how things work now? I tuck the question away.
They fuss for a few more minutes, Ji-Young asking about breakfast preferences, Dae-Hyun mentioning calls he needs to make, both of them hovering just a little too close. I let it happen.
There's value in being passive right now. In letting them set expectations while I gather information. Eventually, Ji-Young insists on bringing food.
"Don't move. I'll have something sent up." She orders, already halfway out the door.
Sent up.
Not made. Not cooked.
Sent.
Dae-Hyun lingers a moment longer. "Rest. We'll talk later." He says. "About?" I ask. He studies me, then says, "Everything."
Then he leaves. The door clicks shut. Silence settles over the room again. I let out a slow breath.
"Okay. Okay." I mutter.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. No dizziness. No weakness. My balance is perfect.
I take a few steps, testing myself. Each movement feels optimized—no wasted motion, no hesitation. My muscles respond instantly, like they're anticipating my intent before I fully commit.
This body doesn't react.
It acts.
I reach the mirror again.
Same face as last night. Still unfair.
Up close, it's even worse. Symmetry that borders on absurd. Clear skin, sharp eyes, lips that naturally curve like they're one joke away from smiling. Even my hair looks like it belongs in a commercial, falling into place with minimal effort.
I tilt my head.
The reflection does the same.
"Golden boy." I murmur.
The nickname fits too well. I flex my jaw, narrow my eyes, and try to look intimidating. It works. I soften my expression, tilt my head slightly, and relax my mouth. Charming.
"Wow. That's going to be a problem." I say flatly. Something flickers at the edge of my vision.
I don't startle this time.
The system screen slides into existence as it belongs there.
Translucent blue. Clean interface. Floating just off to my right.
STATUS PANEL — KWON HYUN-JAE
I scan it quickly.
Stats line up neatly. Every number is higher than what any normal high schooler should have. Strength, speed, stamina—balanced, elevated. Intelligence higher than average. Charm and looks are sitting at levels that make me snort quietly.
Luck is…suspiciously high.
Wealth Influence maxed out.
Of course it is.
At the bottom, a small notification pulses.
NEW LIFE BONUS — ACTIVE
I focus on it.
The panel expands.
WELCOME TO YOUR OPTIMIZED EXISTENCE.
PERFECTION CURSE: ALL BASE ATTRIBUTES SET TO PEAK HUMAN POTENTIAL.
WARNING: SOCIAL AGGRO INCREASED.
I blink.
"Social…aggro?"
As if to answer, there's a knock at the door. Not polite this time. Rapid. Impatient. Before I can respond, the door swings open. A girl barrels in.
She's small. Petite. Curly hair bouncing as she moves, eyes bright with mischief. She skids to a stop when she sees me standing there.
"Oppa!" She shouts.
I barely have time to react before she throws herself at me, arms wrapping around my waist. "Oof." I grunt, instinctively bracing. She clings to me like a koala.
"You're alive! I told them you weren't allowed to die. I called dibs." She declares dramatically, then pulls back just enough to poke my chest. I stare down at her.
Kwon Se-Rin.
Younger sister.
I know this without knowing how. She grins up at me, completely unbothered by personal space. Her eyes dart over my face, my posture, my clothes.
"…Why do you look even better?" She demands.
I laugh.
I can't help it. It slips out, easy and natural.
Her eyes widen.
"Oh no. He's laughing now. That's worse." She says slowly.
I ruffle her hair. Gently. Controlled.
"Get off me. You're heavy." I say lightly. "I am not." She protests, immediately clinging tighter. I adjust my stance, calculating weight and balance. She's light. I could walk around with her attached if I wanted to.
But I don't.
I pry her arms loose and set her down carefully.
She pouts. "Mom said you fainted."
"I did."
"Lame."
"Very."
She circles me, inspecting like I'm a new toy. "Did you hit your head?"
"Probably."
"Do you remember me?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Unfortunately."
She gasps. "Rude."
Her gaze sharpens suddenly. Not as childish as she pretends. "You okay, though?"
There it is.
Concern, buried under teasing. I meet her eyes. "Yeah." She holds my gaze for a second longer, then nods, satisfied. "Good. Because I already told my friends my brother is invincible. It'd be awkward if you weren't."
The system pulses again.
SOCIAL EVENT DETECTED: SIBLING INTERACTION
REWARD PENDING
I ignore it for now.
Footsteps echo in the hallway. Ji-Young's voice follows.
"Se-Rin! I told you not to—"
She stops in the doorway, tray in hand, taking in the scene. Me standing. Se-Rin behaving like she owns me. Both of us are clearly fine.
Her shoulders sag in relief.
"Oh. Good." She says softly.
She sets the tray down on the table by the window. The smell hits me immediately.
Food.
A lot of it.
Not hospital food. Not home-cooked simplicity either. This is hotel-level breakfast. Fresh fruit. Toast. Eggs. Something sizzling under a silver cover.
I feel hungry for the first time since waking up.
Real hunger.
Ji-Young claps her hands lightly. "Eat. Both of you."
"I'm not hungry." Se-Rin says automatically. Ji-Young gives her a look. Se-Rin sits. I sit across from her. As I eat, I observe.
This family dynamic is…loud. Warm. Overbearing in a way I've never experienced.
Ji-Young keeps touching my shoulder, my arm, adjusting things that don't need adjusting. Se-Rin steals from my plate and dares me to stop her. Dae-Hyun passes through briefly, reminding me to rest, reminding Se-Rin not to bother me.
They revolve around me.
I'm the center.
And the system notification finally resolves.
REWARD: +1 CHARM (PASSIVE)
I almost choke on my drink.
So that's how it works.
I glance back at the mirror across the room, catching my reflection between bites. Perfect body. Perfect family. Perfect setup.
Too perfect.
I lean back slightly, folding one arm over the back of the chair, posture relaxed. I let a small, confident smile settle onto my face, the kind that says I know more than I'm letting on.
Inside, my thoughts are already moving.
If this life is a system…
Then, systems can be exploited.
Optimized.
Broken.
And if perfection is a curse, I'll need to learn exactly how sharp its edges are. The system flickers once more, just enough to catch my eye.
FIRST DAY IN NEW LIFE IMMINENT.
PREPARE ACCORDINGLY.
I look up. Ji-Young is smiling at me like the world finally makes sense again. Se-Rin is kicking my leg under the table, grinning. Somewhere beyond this room, beyond this house, beyond this family—people I haven't met yet are already reacting.
I don't know who they are. I don't know what they want.
But I can feel it.
This calm?
It won't last.
And for the first time since the lightning strike—I'm not sure if that excites me. Or scares me more.