Morpheus' gradual recovery unfolded day by day. Capitalizing on the sunny weather, he meticulously cleaned his home, both inside and out.

However, in the process, he encountered an array of poignant memories tied to a particular individual— a bunch of dried flowers, a half-eaten box of chocolates, a stack of prescriptions...

His heart suddenly clenched with pain.

Persephone cherished the streets of Flinge, particularly the unknown little colorful and vibrant flowers blooming by the roadside. She claimed these flowers were never seen in Centrolis. After confirming they were unattended, she secretly plucked a bunch and turned them into dried flowers. Each day, she would beam at the flowers with a bright smile.

With a penchant for sweets, especially after he scolded her, she would guilt-trip him with her big teary eyes, prompting him to feel he had been too harsh. Consequently, he would regularly buy her chocolates. There were limited dessert options in Flinge, and this brand of chocolate stood out as the best.

Concerned when he got injured, she stayed up all night writing prescriptions, asserting that they were secret formulas from Southeast Aciatic and highly effective for bruises...

As Morpheus ruminated on her, memories of her appearance and personality crystallized in his mind, yet his vision began to blur.

He chuckled, muttering inwardly, 'Silly girl... She even knows secret recipes from Southeast Aciatic.'

cool drop on the back of his

urgent knocking interrupted Morpheus's thoughts. He swiftly gathered everything and opened the door to

slapped his chest. "Wow,

gaze dimmed. He said nothing, just stepping aside

he started surveying the room—boxing gloves, punching bags, and training equipment in abundance. However, the dried flowers peeking out behind the cabinet clashed with

dead and the owner of these dried flowers. Nevertheless, he remained indifferent to their love triangles or quadrangles. The cash he held was the

retrieve a small dark vial. "Take this before next

on him before. Despite

Jim never dared to mention it again. Hence, Fat Jim harbored complex feelings, wanting to exploit him

know you disdain winning matches this way, but think about it. Who's your opponent next week? That

opponents," Morpheus said nonchalantly, adjusting the bandage around his wrist. "I'm still standing here

you so stubborn?" Fat Jim looked pained. "In our world, fists don't have eyes. There are

"I know."

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