My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 77 77: Steve’s Swordsman Intuition (Totally Not Made Up)

I stepped into my room and took a quick look around.

It was simple but functional, just how I liked it. A living room, a bedroom, and a small kitchen. The best part? A personal training room attached to the bedroom. That would come in handy.

In the living room, a large TV was mounted on the wall, and a personal laptop sat on the desk. Next to it was a booklet labeled Member Guide, about twenty pages thick.

I decided to get cleaned up first, eat something, and then go through all the details I needed to check.

I stepped into the bathroom and let out a breath.

After nearly two months of dirt, blood, and sweat, this was long overdue. The bathroom was spacious, with a sleek shower panel that looked high-tech.

I turned the dial, and warm water cascaded down, hitting my skin like a soothing wave. For the first few seconds, I just stood there, letting it wash away the grime.

With a sigh, I ran a hand through my hair, feeling how stiff and tangled it had become. I grabbed the soap and scrubbed myself down, watching the water swirl into a murky mess before disappearing down the drain.

My muscles ached in that satisfying way, the kind that reminded me how much I had pushed my limits.

As I reached for my necklace, I hesitated for a moment. It had been on my neck the entire time through fights, through injuries, through everything. Slowly, I unclasped it and held it under the water, rubbing away the dirt that had built up. The metal shone faintly under the bathroom lights.

My mind drifted. There was a lot to do.

First, the skill core, I needed to use it and see how it could strengthen me. Then, I had to figure out which class to select. That was a priority.

Next was my weapon choice. A staff still seemed like the best option, but I had to refine my fighting style for it.

My thoughts shifted to North. We had a few conversations then I jumped into the volcano, but now that we were back at the training compound, I would have more chances to get to know her.

Lastly, my Generator talent, I had to focus on evolving it. There was more potential locked inside it, and I wasnʼt even close to reaching its limits.

I finished rinsing off, feeling lighter, both physically and mentally. I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel rubbing the water off myself.

I found my luggage inside the bedroom, the same bag I had submitted back at Avenue Academy.

Opening it, I took out my belongings and arranged them neatly in the cupboard. Pulling out a black pair of shorts and a white t-shirt, I slipped them on.

Stepping in front of the mirror, I took a moment to look at myself. I actually looked… good.

My eyes had a sharpness to them, almost as if I could see Essence swirling within. All the scars I had gotten, mostly from fighting Guro, were completely gone.

Exhaling, I stepped into the living room and stretched, feeling the slight pull in my muscles. Then, grabbing the phone, I called the cafeteria. I knew what Steve liked, so I ordered three of every dish that he and I liked.

With that done, I flopped onto the couch and switched on the TV. Most of the news revolved around Abominations and Phantoms, with occasional segments about the Emperor.

Vaythos had once been a world of six continents. Now, we were down to four.

The loss wasnʼt just some slow, natural disaster, it was brutal. The Abominations invaded first, tearing through our lands, and then came Peanu, another human ruled planet, trying to claim a piece of ours.

The Empire didnʼt hesitate. Rather than risk those places becoming enemy strongholds, they wiped them off the map entirely.

Two continents. Gone. Just like that.

What remained was the Central Continent—home to the capital, Astra, and my own city, Cairo.

To its east, the Eastern Continent; to the west, the Western Continent; and up north, the Northern Continent.

They used to have actual names, but after the Throne War, they were renamed to something simple and direct. It was easier that way, I supposed. Less attachment to places we could lose.

A knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts. I grabbed the remote, turned off the TV, and opened it.

Steve stood there, dressed in a hoodie and shorts, casual enough, except he also had his sword strapped to his waist.

I raised an eyebrow and pointed at it.

”Why?”

He shrugged.

”Trying the whole ʼa swordsman lives and dies by his swordʼ thing.”

I snorted.

”Yeah, sure. Come in.”

As he stepped inside, he glanced toward the kitchen.

”Did you order?”

”Yup. Three of each.”