But Ethan stopped them casually, his will pressing down on the chaos like a hand smoothing wrinkled fabric. He couldn’t allow his search to destroy the world his parents lived on, even if that world was hiding them from him.

His consciousness swept through every city, every town, every remote corner of the globe. Hospitals. Prisons. Government facilities. Underground bunkers. Nothing escaped his attention as he methodically catalogued every human life on Earth.

Then—there.

Suddenly the signatures of his parents were found.

The recognition hit him like lightning. Two familiar patterns of life energy, older and frailer than he remembered, but unmistakably them. His mother’s gentle soul, still carrying that same warmth despite whatever had happened. His father’s steady presence, worn by time and worry but enduring.

They were alive.

Without hesitation, he disappeared from the sky and appeared right where he felt their signatures emanating from.

Ethan appeared where his family were held. In a prison cell with terrible conditions, despite their old age and frail condition, they were put in jail.

The sight that greeted him was worse to him than any battlefield he had ever witnessed. The cell was cramped, barely large enough for two people, with concrete walls stained by years of neglect. A single flickering fluorescent light cast harsh shadows across peeling paint and rusted bars.

His mother lay curled on a thin mattress that offered no comfort from the cold concrete floor, her gray hair matted and her once-gentle face marked by lines of suffering. His father sat hunched against the wall, his work-weathered hands trembling slightly as he stared at nothing.

Ethan’s hands clenched into fists that could have crushed mountains.

He was currently invisible, his presence hidden from their perception by his abilities. His family couldn’t see him, but he could see everything—every detail of their deterioration, every sign of the injustice that had been done to them.

The rage building inside him was unlike anything he had experienced, even during his darkest moments in the tower. This wasn’t the cold fury of a transcendent being—this was the primal, burning wrath of a son witnessing his parents’ torture.

Ethan held everything back to stop himself from destroying the whole planet and everything within it.

Reality trembled around him as his emotions threatened to boil over. The air grew thick with power.

He forced himself to focus, to think rather than simply react. He needed to understand what had happened before he decided how thoroughly to remake this world.

He used his power and gently accessed his father’s memories, his consciousness touching the older man’s mind with infinite care. The transfer was seamless, years of experiences flowing into Ethan’s awareness like water.

Then he realized what had happened.

After his death, where he had pulled Jack into the river, Jack had actually managed to survive and return.

The memories painted a clear picture. Jack, half-drowned and traumatized, had been pulled from the water by emergency responders. He had told a story—not the truth about bullying and attempted murder, but a carefully crafted lie designed to shift blame.

According to Jack’s version, Ethan had attacked him unprovoked. Had tried to drown him in a drug-fueled rage. The “evidence” had been planted afterward—drugs hidden in the Brandon family home, testimonies from Jack’s friends corroborating his story.

Ethan’s parents had been falsely accused of selling drugs, of raising a violent addict who had nearly committed murder. They were put in prison for false claims, their modest savings drained by legal fees, their reputation destroyed by a justice system that preferred convenient narratives to messy truths.

The reason was simple: because Ethan had tried to kill Jack with him.

And Jack, in his cowardice and vindictiveness, had decided that if he couldn’t have revenge on Ethan directly, he would settle for destroying everything Ethan had ever loved.

The being that Ethan had become began to calculate exactly how much suffering Jack deserved.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Before inflicting punishment on those that deserved it, Ethan had to make his wrongs right. He calmly and gently walked towards his parents, his invisible form moving through the cell like a whisper of wind.

The sight of them up close was even more heartbreaking. His mother’s breathing was shallow and labored, her body curled in a position that spoke of chronic pain. His father’s eyes were hollow, staring at nothing with the vacant expression of someone whose spirit had been broken over years of unjust imprisonment.

Ethan raised his hands and sent a wave of energy to both of them.

The energy was gentle, warm—like a loving caress rather than the cosmic force it truly was. It washed over his parents like a healing tide, instantly addressing every physical ailment, every ache and pain accumulated through years of harsh conditions. Their breathing deepened, color returned to their pallid cheeks, and the lines of suffering began to smooth from their faces.

The energy sent them into a peaceful unconsciousness, deeper than natural sleep. But more importantly, it began completely erasing their memories—from his death to now, everything was being carefully altered and rewritten.

They didn’t need to feel or remember that pain that could only cause trauma. Follow current novels on NovᴇlFire(.)nᴇt

In their minds, their son had never died. The bullying, the river, the false accusations—all of it dissolved like a nightmare upon waking. Instead, new memories took their place: their son had gone away to study abroad, had written letters regularly, had built a successful life in distant lands. They had been proud, not grieving. Happy, not destroyed.

The prison, the accusations, the years of suffering—all of it became nothing more than a bad dream that would fade upon waking.

After completing the delicate memory reconstruction, he disappeared and appeared back in the other world.

Tiana, who felt his presence immediately through their new bond, appeared beside him within moments. Her Saint-rank abilities had enhanced her sensitivity to his emotional state, and she could feel the volcanic rage simmering beneath his controlled exterior.

Seeing his angry look, she said softly, “Ethan… don’t do something you will regret.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep