Chapter 230. Return Home and a New Summon
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Noah murmured as he turned the key in the lock. The door to his Manhattan apartment groaned slightly on its hinges, a sound that echoed through the unnerving silence of the hallway. As he stepped inside, the familiar layout hit him with a wave of unexpected nostalgia. It had only been six months since he'd moved out, yet it felt like a lifetime ago.
The apartment was a time capsule. Because it had sat empty for so long, the air was stagnant, thick with the scent of settled dust and the faint, lingering smell of the city outside. A thin, grey shroud of grit covered every surface, having found its way through the microscopic cracks in the window frames. It wasn't the filth of a squat, but the gentle decay of a place forgotten by time.
Noah didn't miss a beat. He raised his left hand, and with a casual flick of his fingers, a pulse of shimmering sapphire magic rippled outward. The energy acted like a sentient vacuum, catching every speck of dust in the room and swirling it into a miniature grey cyclone. With another gesture, he directed the whirling mess out of the window and into a trash receptacle on the street below.
"There. Much better," he said, exhaling a breath he didn't know he was holding. He gestured for Gwen and Lissandra to enter, then collapsed onto the living room sofa with a satisfied groan.
He patted the fabric of the couch. It felt remarkably new. He remembered buying it shortly after the System had first arrived. Back then, he had been so overwhelmed by his new powers that he'd accidentally channeled the spirit of Yasuo right here in the living room. One misplaced Steel Tempest had shredded his old furniture into kindling.
He'd spent thousands of dollars—money he barely had at the time—to restore this place. Looking back, those days felt like a dream. His growth had been so explosive, so terrifyingly rapid, that he sometimes struggled to reconcile the boy who worried about rent with the man who now held the fate of worlds in his spatial pocket.
"So, this was your home, Noah?" Gwen asked, her voice hushed as she sat beside him. The couch cushions gave a soft woosh as they compressed under her weight.
Lissandra glided into the room, her presence bringing a sudden, icy stillness to the air, and took a seat on his other side.
"Why is it so quiet out there?" Gwen wondered, peering through the window. The street below was a ghost town. It was broad daylight, yet there were no yellow cabs honking, no harried businessmen shouting into phones, no tourists clogging the sidewalks. The silence was heavy, unnatural for the city that never sleeps. "Is this a remote neighborhood?"
"Not remote," Noah replied, his eyes fixed on the empty asphalt. "It's just empty. The city authorities ordered a total evacuation of the lower borough as soon as the Chitauri hit the center. Most people are still in the fallout shelters or have fled to the outer suburbs."
His apartment sat on the fringes of Manhattan, far enough from Stark
Tower to avoid the worst of the structural damage, but close enough to be considered part of the "Red Zone." The government was keeping the area locked down, partially for safety, and partially to ensure that scavengers didn't make off with alien technology.
Of course, "government orders" didn't mean much in places like Hell's Kitchen. Noah could only imagine the chaos unfolding there—a literal street-wide festival where every low-life and gang-banger was probably digging through the rubble, hoping to find a laser rifle or a piece of armor to sell on the black market. Some were likely even boasting about how they'd use such weapons to take down the Storm Swordsman next time he showed his face.
But here? Here, the silence was absolute.
"I see. It's almost... peaceful," Gwen whispered, though her eyes remained wary.
Noah leaned back for a moment, letting the stillness sink into his bones. Then, he stood up and stretched, his joints popping. "Make yourselves at home. I'll be back in a minute—I need to... well, I need to use the washroom."
Gwen watched him walk away with a curious tilt of her head, then turned to Lissandra. The ice witch merely offered a faint, knowing smile and gently turned Gwen's head back toward the blank television screen, as if suggesting they wait in silence.
Inside the bathroom, Noah stood before the mirror. He stared at his reflection, noting how the glass seemed smaller than he remembered. It wasn't the mirror; it was him. His body had filled out, his shoulders broader, his posture radiating a quiet, lethal confidence. The Rune of Bravery was a living thing within him, constantly refining his physique, pushing him toward a peak that no human should ever reach.
If he truly let the Rune take control, he could probably grow into a titan of myth. But he clung to his humanity, and the Rune obeyed, funnelling that vast power into a compact, explosive frame.
He turned on the tap, listening to the rush of cold water. With a small portal, he retrieved a bottle of high-end facial cleanser from his suburban estate. He wasn't dirty—his magical aura acted like a permanent shield against grime—but this was a ritual. A superstition.
In the world of gacha, every player had their "lucky charm." For Noah, it was the "wash away the bad luck" ritual. He lathered the soap in his hands, scrubbing his face with the reverence of a priest performing a baptism. He wanted his "fortune" to be as clean as his skin before he gambled with the System's essence.
"Alright, let's see what the gods have in store for me today," he muttered, drying his face and opening the Summoning Panel.
He had exactly 6800 Essence Points left. Just enough for one final [Summon x10].
"Come on, Lady Luck... don't fail me now. Give me something that changes the game!" He tapped the button.
The air in the small bathroom didn't change, but in his mind's eye, a violent, prismatic vortex erupted. One by one, spheres of light shot out of the swirling mist. His heart sank as the first few emerged: common greys and greens.
[Health Potion x1]... [Health Potion x2]...
[Minor Stamina Elixir]...
"Are you kidding me?" Noah hissed, feeling like a fool with a metaphorical clown nose. The points were disappearing, and he was getting nothing but shelf-fillers. "I am never pulling in this bathroom again. This place is cursed."
He reached the final few orbs. He almost closed the menu in disgust, but a sudden, familiar pulse of energy made him hesitate. He tapped the third-to-last orb, and the screen didn't just flash—it exploded with a vibrant, neon-drenched starscape.
[TARGET ACQUIRED: ODYSSEY YASUO]
Noah's jaw dropped. "Odyssey? As in... the space-pirate, galaxy-hopping Yasuo?"
The image of the swordsman appeared, clad in high-tech battle gear, a glowing energy blade at his hip, looking like he'd just stepped off a starship. It wasn't just a skin; it was a shift in reality.
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[Odyssey Yasuo]
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