Early July 1980, London, England
It was past 8 PM, and a faint light still flickered in one of the rooms at the Erens Church Welfare Home.
"Ugh, I can't take this anymore," the teenage boy in the room muttered, staring at his reflection in the mirror on the wardrobe. He rubbed his chin incessantly, occasionally reaching out with his slender yet defined hands, opening and closing them as if grasping at something in the air.
Eleven years!
He had been stuck in this wretched world for eleven years, and in an 80s orphanage no less—no computers, no phones. He couldn't imagine how he had endured it.
"Anduin, boss, your stuff..." Before the boy could dwell further on his thoughts, a loud knock startled him.
"What's with all the racket? It's late—aren't you afraid of getting caught?" Anduin opened the door, frowning.
"Uh, sorry about that. This heavy box nearly killed me, heh..." A teenager who looked sixteen or seventeen years old spoke, his rumpled but not overly worn shirt tucked into well-fitting trousers held up by suspenders. His hair was unkempt and messy.
The young man who brought Anduin his share was named William, a few years older and also an orphan from the same orphanage.
"Alright, what took you so long? Did those North District punks cause trouble again?" Anduin asked, frowning slightly.
"Nah, not since you taught them a lesson last time. Today, we stumbled upon some good stuff, so we stayed out longer," William replied, digging into his pocket and handing over a few bills. "Here's your share for the week."
Anduin took the money calmly. "Thanks for your hard work today."
As he turned to open his box, he noticed William standing awkwardly nearby, rubbing his hands together with a nervous chuckle.
"What's wrong? I need to practice my martial arts."
"Heh, well, it's still early... We were thinking of unwinding a bit..."
"Alright, you want to play mahjong, right?" Anduin interrupted, walking silently to his bed and pulling out a wooden box from underneath. "Go ahead, but no gambling. You know the Matron will confiscate it if she finds out."
"Alright, don't worry, I'll bring it back in a couple of days," William said, grabbing the box and swiftly disappearing from the room.
"Great, another one's gone mad," Anduin sighed, closing the door with a hint of resignation. "Maybe teaching them mahjong was a mistake."
Immediately afterward, Anduin rubbed his hands together with glee and opened the large cardboard box William had delivered.
"Heh heh, soy sauce, sesame paste, vinegar, cooking wine—long time no see, my friends! Without phones or computers, I'll have to find my pleasures elsewhere. I'm about to throw up from eating British food every day."
The box contained the condiments Anduin had asked William to buy for him in Chinatown.
Anduin Wilson had arrived in this world unsure whether he had transmigrated or been reborn. As a former soldier, his strong will allowed him to maintain a calm and rational mindset.
He didn't know if this was still his old world. He had been born in an orphanage in the 1960s or 70s. But since he was here, he would adapt to local customs. Having the memories and experiences of an adult, Anduin wasn't one to dwell on sentimentality.
The orphanage where Anduin lived was under the jurisdiction of the Church. William and his group of brothers, who were a few years older than Anduin, had also grown up there. Yet, they all listened to Anduin's every word.
Why?
Because they had no choice.
In his previous life, Anduin had served in the military and was a passionate martial artist. Even as a child, he had been meticulous about physical training, and these deeply ingrained habits quickly resurfaced.
With a vast disparity in combat resolve, the nine-year-old Anduin had already consolidated his control over the entire orphanage through force. William and his brothers behaved impeccably in Anduin's presence. Under his guidance, William even led the group in running a business outside the orphanage.
"If I keep this up, I'll end up leading a gang of thugs, collecting protection money every day," Anduin muttered self-deprecatingly. Shaking off the thought, he carefully stored the spices in his box, planning to find time to cook himself a proper Chinese meal as a treat.
After tidying up his materials, Anduin turned and locked the door of his room securely.
Since arriving in this world, he had kept a secret that no one else knew: he possessed superpowers.
Anduin stared at the ten-kilogram dumbbell in the corner. With a slight gesture, he watched as it silently floated into the air, as if pulled by an invisible force.
He levitated the dumbbell above him, then walked to his desk and quietly opened a book to read.
This was a method Anduin had devised himself to train his "superpower," which he called Delayed Training.
When he was seven or eight years old, Anduin had first sensed that he was different from others. One day after exercising, he thought about getting a drink, and the water glass on the table suddenly flew toward him.
Through careful observation, Anduin realized he was the only one with this ability in the orphanage. He became extremely cautious. If anyone at the Erens Church Welfare Home discovered his secret, they might brand him a monster or heretic and deal with him accordingly.
Anduin called this special ability his "superpower." Through deliberate testing and practice, it gradually transformed from an erratic phenomenon to something he could faintly control.
He discovered that after finishing his martial arts training, performing the Closing Stance, and practicing Standing Post, he could better grasp this force—let's call it "power" for now. Anduin theorized that it was related to his mental state. The Closing Stance left his mind empty, perhaps creating optimal conditions for harnessing this power.
From then on, the already disciplined Anduin Wilson established a strict regimen. After all, this was a "superpower" that couldn't be wasted. He practiced martial arts, meditation, and daily exercises to cultivate his "superpower."
His initial training methods resembled his usual physical workouts: weight training. As he gained control over his "superpower," he began targeted exercises. He started with teacups and books, then progressed to chairs and tables. But soon, he noticed something was amiss.
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