It had been two months since Alex awakened in the body of Alex Palmer—the youngest child and forsaken heir of the Palmer family, whose wealth and influence stretched across continents.
In that time, Alex had reshaped his life from the inside out.
Standing shirtless in front of the full-length bathroom mirror, he studied himself with critical eyes.
The transformation was undeniable.
Gone was the frail, half-dead shell he'd inherited—pale, weak, and underdeveloped from weeks of binge-living and neglect.
In its place stood a version of Alex who, while not yet sculpted into a god, was clearly climbing there.
His skin was smooth and clear now, glowing with health from a consistent diet and sleep. His once-lean frame had filled out. He wasn't bulky—but every inch of him now hinted at strength.
Defined lines ran across his torso. His abs weren't chiseled yet, but they were visible. His shoulders had broadened. His arms looked tight, his core firm.
And then there was his face.
Even before his own discipline took effect, the original Alex Palmer had been… stupidly handsome.
His obsidian-black hair was thick and naturally wavy, resting just enough over his forehead to be effortlessly stylish. His jawline was sharp, a perfect cut that could slice egos.
His lips were full and slightly parted in thought, but it was his eyes that drew attention—silver, like starlight captured in motionless pools. Intense. Calm. Piercing.
Combined with high cheekbones and the faintest curve to his brows, he looked like a cross between a fallen angel and a model designed in a high-end genetics lab.
He stepped back from the mirror and smirked faintly.
"I'd date me," he muttered under his breath.
But he wasn't arrogant. He just knew what he was working with now—and that understanding came with responsibility.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped into the bedroom, as he checked his stats.
[Name]: Alex Palmer
[Age]: 19
[Stats]
>[Strength]: 4
>[Agility]: 2
>[Stamina]: 5
>[Intelligence]: 5
[Asset(s)]
>[Account Balance: $9,283,830]
>[Net Worth: $30,198,639]
[Knowledge: None]
[System Point(s): None]
[System Store]
....
It wasn't just physical improvement but he has also been improving his intelligence, as advised by the system.
Life had moved almost too smoothly these past two months. Alfred had kept things discreet.
The money had been coming in. The staff followed his orders without question. He had structure. Safety. Comfort. All the things he had only dreamed of during those cold nights on the street.
He now lived in a villa nestled in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in Los Angeles. A sprawling modern fortress of glass, steel, and polished marble. The kind of place that needed a map just to find the third guest bathroom.
He has a chef, driver, gardeners, and security personnel—all on call, all paid for by the Palmer family's auto-funding of staff.
No more worrying about food. No more scraping pennies. No more cold.
But, of course, nothing was perfect.
And the imperfections?
They came in the form of two beautiful devils named Natalie and Natalia.
His maids. Twins. Identical, seductive, and previously trained to start each day by waking him with their mouths.
For two weeks straight, every morning had started with the same phrase:
"Good morning, Young Master. Time for your wake-up special…"
And then they'd dive beneath the sheets.
At first, Alex had frozen in shock. Then panic. Then disgust. Not because they weren't attractive—they were gorgeous. But because he wasn't the man they thought he was. There was no emotional connection. No shared history. No reason.
Convincing them to stop had been surprisingly difficult.
They had believed he was rejecting them—dismissing them, even. The girls were trained, after all, for the old Alex. And they had grown attached to him, in their own twisted way.
When they cried, accusing him of no longer having "use" for them, it took everything in Alex to calmly explain that he just needed space. That he wasn't rejecting them, just redefining their role.
Eventually, they listened. Hesitantly. Reluctantly. But they stopped.
He promised them that if he ever needed their "services," he'd call them. He had no intention of doing so, but it kept them from spiraling.
That wasn't even the worst of it.
The true madness?
The women.
The old Alex Palmer's harem was insane. Models. Celebrities. Heiresses. Entrepreneurs. Married women. Older women. Younger women. All obsessed. All unhinged.
At first, the daily good morning nudes had been tolerable. Annoying, but tolerable.
Now?
They came at all hours.
Public bathroom selfies and masturbation videos. Office stripteases. Dressing rooms and onset masturbation sessions. Hotel rendezvous suggestions. Cowgirl. Catgirl. Bunny girl. Cosplay that belonged more on paywalled sites than in private inboxes.
It wasn't just lust. It was desperation.
Alex hadn't replied to any of them in two months. Hadn't returned a call. Hadn't so much as sent a period.
They were escalating. Hard.
Long-form videos. Erotic audio moans. One woman even had his name tattooed on her inner thigh and it was extremely close to her holy land.
And Alex?
He wanted to block them.
But he didn't. He couldn't.
Because in this world—image mattered. And ghosting the wrong woman could spark a scandal big enough to hit tabloids. Some of these women had fathers who owned entire companies. Or media networks.
Alex sighed and flopped onto the bed, towel still around his waist.
"I have no idea why some people are dying of thirst, and I'm drowning in it."
He had finally accepted something important about the original Alex Palmer.
He was a lost cause.
Just a bored, spoiled brat who never realized the weight of the power he held. Someone who coasted through life high on privilege, but bankrupt in purpose.
And now, Alex had to clean up the mess.
But he wasn't bitter. He just knew he had to move fast—and today was a milestone.
Today was the day everything changed.
The final piece of his financial puzzle had arrived.
Thanks to Alfred's network, he'd sold off the Lamborghini and the Maybach, cashed out a fraction of his meme coin fortune, liquidated watches, and triggered the trust withdrawal with penalty.
Alex had thought many a member of his family would contacted him — probably his father or his siblings — in regards to him mskinf6an early withdrawal from the trust, but they didn't.
His phone pinged with a notification.
[Incoming Transfer: +$1,000,000.00 USD]
Source: Starlight Trust Account
Alex sat up instantly.
"That's it. It's done."
He'd hit the threshold.
Ten million dollars—precisely the amount needed to unlock a Core Knowledge.
He immediately pulled up the System interface.
The previously grayed-out options were now glowing softly. Ready. Accessible.
[Core Knowledge Unlock Available.]
[Select a Core Knowledge to Unlock.]
Alex smiled, his silver eyes reflecting the faint blue light of the System screen.
"Mathematics. Let's start changing the world."