Reign Of Loner

The late afternoon sun was a warm, hazy blanket as I stretched out on the park bench, utterly spent. My muscles screamed in protest, a symphony of aches and pains that surprisingly felt… good. It was the good kind of tired, the kind you earn after pushing yourself. I'd just wrapped up my first real workout in what felt like forever, and every fiber of my being was begging for a moment of peace. My eyelids felt heavy, a welcome darkness descending as I drifted somewhere between consciousness and a much-needed nap.

Then, a gentle nudge. A voice, soft and persistent, calling my name. "Adam? Adam, wake up."

I didn't want to open my eyes. Not yet. But the voice was familiar, and a little part of me knew I couldn't ignore it. With a groan, I forced my eyelids to flutter open, and there she was: Isabel, my sister, her face framed by the setting sun, a hint of concern in her eyes.

"Why are you lying here, Adam?" she asked, a slight frown creasing her brow.

"Just tired," I mumbled, pushing myself up into a sitting position, my joints protesting loudly. "Had a pretty intense workout. Figured I'd catch a quick rest."

Her eyebrows shot up, an expression of genuine astonishment spreading across her face. "Workout? When did you start working out?"

I managed a tired grin. "Today, actually."

"That's amazing!" Her voice was laced with a surprise that bordered on disbelief, but also a genuine happiness. "But don't you think we should head home? It's already past five in the evening."

"Yeah, you're right. Let's go." I stretched one last time, feeling the satisfying pop of my spine, and we started walking. The air was cooling, carrying the scent of cut grass and distant barbecue. It was a perfect evening.

As we strolled, Isabel linked her arm through mine, a gesture that felt both comforting and a little foreign after so long. "I'm happy, Adam," she said, her voice soft, almost a whisper.

"Why?" I asked, genuinely curious.

She squeezed my arm. "Everything just feels… perfect. You're trying to change, you know? And we're spending time together again, just like the old days."

A pang of guilt hit me. I hadn't been the best brother lately. Selfish, distant, lost in my own head. "I'm sorry for being a selfish brother," I said, the words catching a little in my throat. "But I promise, I'll make sure I never hurt you again."

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Don't be apologetic. I know you've been suffering. But now, looking at you, it feels like… my old brother is back." She tightened her embrace, pulling me closer. "Don't leave me. If anyone ever dares to touch you in the future, just tell me. I'll kick their ball."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Mind your language, sis."

We both burst into laughter, the sound echoing softly in the quiet evening. We continued our walk, our lighthearted chatter filling the space between us, a comfortable rhythm settling into our steps. It felt good, really good, to just be with her, to feel that connection again.

When we finally reached home, the familiar scent of Mom's cooking wafted from the kitchen. "Mom! We're back!" we called out in unison, a habit from childhood that still felt right. Isabel, ever the practical one, headed straight to her room to change out of her school clothes.

I, however, noticed Mom in the living room. She was hunched over her laptop, her brow furrowed, a clear sign of stress. My heart gave a little tug. She looked tired, burdened. Without thinking, I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her, resting my chin on her shoulder.

"What happened, Mom?" I asked, my voice gentle. "Why are you stressed? Is everything okay?"

She flinched, startled, then tried to brush off my concern with a forced cheerfulness. "Oh! Adam, how was your day?"

I didn't let her deflect. "Are you stressed about the house loan?" The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken worry.

She suddenly whipped her head around, her eyes wide with surprise, then quickly composed herself. "There's nothing to worry about, Mom will find a solution. Everything is fine."

"Why don't you let us know, Mom?" I pressed, a frustration building inside me. "Why don't you talk about your problems with us? With me? I know I'm not a competent son…"

Before I could finish, she reached up, her fingers soft against my lips, silencing me. "No, Adam, no. Don't say those words. You're hurting your mom. You're so precious to me, darling, I couldn't even begin to explain. You're so special for me, darling. I just don't want to burden you and Isabel with unnecessary things."

I looked straight into her eyes, trying to convey the sincerity of my words. "This isn't unnecessary, Mom. Please, let me help ease your burden."

She kissed my forehead, a small, weary smile on her face. "Adam, thank you so much, baby. But let Mommy handle her stuff. Look, it's dinner time already. I need to prepare dinner. Go and fresh up yourself, and also bring Isabel. Dinner will be ready in a few moments."

With that, she gently extricated herself from my embrace and headed towards the kitchen. I stood there for a moment, a knot of helplessness tightening in my stomach. I really wanted to help her, but if she wouldn't let me, what could I do? It wasn't her fault, though. It was mine. If I had been a little more responsible, a little more reliable, maybe she would have trusted me more.

I walked to my room, the regret a heavy weight in my chest. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I saw not the strong, capable person I wanted to be, but a kid who still felt like a burden.

Suddenly, a soft green glow enveloped my vision, and a familiar system screen materialized in front of me, its text crisp and clear:

[Side Mission]: [Great Son] Help your mom in house chores and become an ideal son.

[Reward: Number of Prayer Coins decided on the basis of how much you ease her workload]

A small smile touched my lips. Even if this wasn't a mission, I'd still want to help her. But now, it was like a cherry on top. A tangible goal, a way to actually make a difference.

After a while, the aroma of Mom's cooking filled the house, and we all gathered for dinner. It was a simple meal, but comforting, and the conversation flowed easily, a pleasant hum of family life. Once we finished, I stood up, gathering the plates.

"I'll wash the dishes, Mom," I announced, heading towards the basin.

She looked surprised, a little reluctant. "Oh, Adam, you don't need to. I can do it."

But I insisted, gently pushing her towards the living room. "No, really, Mom. Let me. You've been working all day."

She finally relented, a grateful look in her eyes. "Alright, dear. Thank you."

Washing the dishes wasn't exactly glamorous, but as I scrubbed away, I felt a small sense of accomplishment. The system chimed, a faint notification that only I could hear: [+10 Prayer Coins]. Only ten, but it was a start. Every little bit counted.

Later, as we settled down to watch television, Mom and Isabel on the couch, me lounging on the floor, I pulled up my stats. The green screen shimmered into existence, visible only to me:

Status :

Name: Adam Wilson

Strength: 75

Agility: 70

Endurance: 65

Mentality: 92

Intelligence: 90

Mana: 50

Potential: Undetectable

Skills: [Normal Close Combat], [Boxing Proficiency]

Coins: [Prayer Coin: 40], [Fear Coin: 70]

My stats had indeed increased, albeit slightly. The previous fight with Charles Patrick had definitely paid off, boosting both my Prayer and Fear Coins. My eyes scanned the coin totals, a new idea forming in my mind.

I opened the system shop, scrolling through the available skills. My gaze landed on one: [Expert Massager]. It cost 30 Fear Coins. At first, I thought, What do I need that for? But then, Mom's stressed face flashed in my mind. She was always so tense, always carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Maybe this could help. Maybe I could truly help her relax.

Without hesitation, I bought it. The coins deducted, and a new skill appeared in my list.

Next, I found [Weapon Expertise]. This one was intriguing. The description said I could use anything as a weapon if it was in my hand, but it only activated when i am holding something as a weapons. It cost 40 Fear Coins. It sounded useful, a good addition to my combat skills, even if I wasn't planning on getting into any more fights anytime soon. I bought that too.

Finally, a passive skill caught my eye: [Great Leader]. This skill would increase my presence and aura in a group of people, perfect for situations where I needed to command attention or inspire confidence. It was worth 40 Prayer Coins. My Prayer Coin balance was getting low, but this seemed like a valuable investment. I bought it, leaving my coin balance looking pretty meager.

After watching TV for a bit longer, the evening winding down, Isabel excused herself to bed. Mom was about to follow, but I had another idea. The massage skill was burning a hole in my pocket, so to speak.

"Mom," I said, standing up. "Can I come to your room for a minute?"

She looked at me, a little surprised. "Of course, dear. What is it?"

I followed her down the hall to her bedroom. She was sitting at her dressing table, going through her nightly skincare routine. As I stepped in, my eyes widened just a fraction. She was wearing a sheer, black lace nightgown, and for a fleeting second, a very inappropriate thought flickered through my mind. She looked absolutely stunning. Her fair, smooth skin seemed to glow in the soft lamplight, her long, brunette , straight hair cascaded down her back, brown eyes and her primrose lips were slightly parted as she concentrated on her face. Her figure, though hidden beneath the delicate lace, was undeniably curvaceous and voluptuous. It was a seductive sight, and for a moment, I felt a blush creep up my neck. But I quickly reined myself in. She's your mom, Adam. Get a grip.

She looked up, catching my gaze. "What happened, Adam?"

I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to sound casual. "Mom, you've been so stressed these past few days. Let me give you a back massage so you can relax."

Her eyes softened, and a genuine smile touched her lips. "Aww, Adam, you're so sweet, my dear. I would be glad if you did. I really need one."

She lay down on the bed, turning onto her stomach, and I sat on the edge, positioning myself behind her. Taking a deep breath, I activated my [Expert Massager] skill. As my hands made contact with her back, a strange phenomenon occurred. I saw a multitude of small, red spots appear on her skin, visible only to me. They were concentrated along her spine and shoulders. Blocked blood nodes, I realized, or maybe just areas of intense pain.

As I began to work, applying gentle pressure and kneading her muscles, the red spots slowly started to disappear, fading like watercolors in the rain. It was fascinating, watching the skill work its magic.

We talked as I massaged, the conversation flowing easily between us. "Adam, dear," she asked, her voice already sounding more relaxed, "have you thought about what you want to pursue for a career?"

"Mom, I'm still thinking," I replied, my fingers working out a particularly stubborn knot in her shoulder blade.

"It's okay, Adam. You have time," she assured me.

"If I asked for your suggestion, what would you say?" I asked, curious to hear her perspective.

She chuckled softly. "If you ask me, you could be a brilliant masseur. You have magic in your hands. All my stress and pain just… vanished."

"Thank you so much," I said, feeling a warmth spread through me. It was nice to be appreciated, especially by her.

Then, she said, her voice tinged with self-deprecation, "Thank you so much for giving so much attention to this old woman."

I immediately scoffed, my voice confident and firm. "Who's an old woman here? My stepmom is still young and gorgeous. I'm imagining if you went out wearing a red satin silk dress right now, you'd still make boys skip their heartbeat. You are still so elegant and angelic."

She paused, then a genuine, delighted laugh bubbled up from her. "You are quite a charmer, Adam. I never knew my son had such a sweet tongue. But thank you so much for your sweet words. If you told those to girls your age, it might work, but not on me. Still, I really delight in hearing all those appreciation."

"But I'm honest, Mom," I insisted, a playful note in my voice.

"Okay, baby, okay," she said, still smiling. After a comfortable silence, she added, "I think that's enough for today, dear. You need to sleep because tomorrow you have school."

"Okay, I'm leaving. Good night, Mom." I leaned down and kissed her cheek, then quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind me.

As I walked back to my own room, a strange mix of satisfaction and something else, something I couldn't quite name, swirled within me. The massage had clearly helped her, and that felt good. But then, a thought, a whisper of a realization, hit me.

Meanwhile, in her room, Joyce, my mom, lay on the bed, her eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. How could you, Joyce, feel excited when Adam was massaging you? she chastised herself. It's been so long since someone touched your body, but still, he's your son!

Yet, the memory of his hands, the incredible relief the massage had brought, was undeniable. And the massage Adam gave was so relaxing. If he'd given me a few more minutes, I might have… climaxed. A wave of shame washed over her, hot and immediate. And when Adam was appreciating me, it skipped my heartbeat. This is so wrong. How could I think about all those things for my own son?

She felt a sudden warmth, a wetness between her legs. Aww… even my panties are wet. I should die from embarrassment if Adam had noticed. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing the ground would swallow her whole. I'm such a bad mother. Huh! It's okay, Joyce, everything is fine. I controlled myself. But I have to appreciate that Adam is so sweet today. Let's call it a day.

She sighed, a long, shaky breath, and finally closed her eyes, trying to push the unsettling thoughts away. The lingering warmth of Adam's touch, however, remained.