Afternoon, Harbor Metropolis North High-Speed Rail Station
"Take care of yourself here," Ethan hugged Luna Reed, who wore a face mask. Her assistant stood nearby. While Ethan’s two World Combat Championship appearances had left him largely unrecognizable in public, Luna’s fame demanded anonymity.
"I’ll wrap things up in three days," Luna said. "Kara’s already securing our place in Moonlake."
Ethan nodded at her assistant. "Zoe, keep her safe."
"On it!" Zoe saluted playfully.
"Message me when you arrive," Luna squeezed his hand.
"Will do."
Ethan boarded the train, watching Luna’s silhouette shrink through the window.
High-Speed Rail Cabin
A holographic screen floated before Ethan. He posted:
"Moonlake City bound! Open invitation to all friends—visit anytime!"
Replies flooded in:
- Vincent Hale: Safe travels, kid.
- Hank Foster (ex-teammate): Leaving Harbor Metropolis?
- Justin Chase (Baji Quan disciple): Finally! The squad’s waiting!
- Master Derek Teller (Chuo Jiao Sect): Report to the dojo ASAP.
- Mikayla "Hunter" Meeks (global combat legend): Moonlake’s on my bucket list.
Ethan smiled, responding to each.
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Capital City, Vincent Hale’s Estate
The old legend shoveled beef stew while scrolling Ethan’s feed. Harper’s doing, he grimaced. A tap brought up the National Elite Development Program shortlist.
"Twelve grandmasters, five other disciplines…" Vincent muttered. Ethan’s name was absent. Two eighth-place finishes weren’t enough.
Moonlake City Outskirts
The train glided past willow-lined canals—a postcard of Jiangnan’s water towns. Ethan’s chest tightened. Moonlake lacked Harbor Metropolis’ skyscrapers but overflowed with tranquil charm, its tree-lined boulevards teeming with retirees and songbirds.
"Welcome to Moonlake Station."
An autonomous cab whisked him to his childhood home—a ivy-clad villa in the historic district. Crumbling murals adorned alley walls, including Ethan’s five-year-old self’s “artwork” on the Lee family’s fence.
"Dad! Mom!" Ethan pushed through the creaky gate.
Living Room
Henry Xu—Ethan’s bear-sized father—loomed in the doorway. At 6’1” and 230 lbs of pure Baji Quan muscle, he radiated intimidation despite his sixty years.
"Where’s your gear?" Henry barked.
"Shipping tomorrow," Ethan said.
"Still reckless." Henry’s gruffness softened. "You’ve lost weight."
Ethan’s mother, Lin Yuelan—a lithe painter with salt-and-pepper hair—pulled him into a hug. "Luna coming?"
"Later this week."
Footsteps creaked upstairs. Grandfather Benjamin Xu descended, his hands—once nimble on gaming controllers—now trembling. At 88, the former esports legend ("The Nameless Champion") resembled a withered oak.
"Countryside air’s better," the old man wheezed, offering watermelon. "Sweetest in Jiangnan."
Ethan bit into the fruit, memories flooding back—training sessions in this courtyard, his father’s roar echoing off brick walls. Now those walls bore cracks, his parents’ hair gray, their movements slower.
Time’s cruelty, Ethan thought. But this…this is worth fighting for.