A blinding light enveloped him as he stepped through, and several TIME LAW MESSAGES appeared around him.
Boom!
Carl crash-landed on the exact same spot where he'd first received the system. To him, it felt like a violent fall—but to the onlookers, it was pure chaos.
"WITCH! WITCH! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"
He just chuckled and silently thanked God that he was still wearing his mask.
Then he felt something else—something new—attach itself to his body. Strange time-forged objects appeared, binding to his form. His physique began to transform: muscles refined, abs tightened into a perfect six-pack, his posture radiating raw strength. Memories flooded back like a broken dam—every year, every battle, every lesson. Even his "little commander," as he jokingly called it, underwent a divine upgrade.
His entire being looked powerful, untamed, almost divine. His bones hardened, his body strengthened—but his face returned to that of his nineteen-year-old self.
A deep, booming laugh echoed through the area.
"Hahaha! I'm back!"
FUSION PROCESS OF PRESENT SYSTEM AND CURRENT SYSTEM
FUSION PROCESS OF BOTH BODIES
10% 50% 100% PROGRESS COMPLETE
FUSION SUCCESSFUL
He was still laughing with joy as the terrified crowd slowly regained their senses. The cries of "witch" faded, replaced by awe and curiosity.
Once he removed his mask, reintegration was easy—after all, his face was perfection itself. Shocked whispers spread through the town. Somehow, Carl had become even more handsome than before.
A few bold women approached, eager to "test" his new improvements, and he happily obliged.
Afterward, he reclaimed his old home—his workshop of inventions—and began to plan. He carefully stored all the time equipment he had acquired inside, ensuring they were secure and ready for use when needed.
He was still young, still full of time and energy. Perhaps he could build an army before the zombie invasion struck. Maybe he could even prevent Sofia's death… and stop the wars that would follow.
There was so much to change, so much to prepare.
Carl smiled, his mind already racing with possibilities. The future could be rewritten—and he intended to be the one holding the pen