As a kid, Zeming never really played house. His childhood was just... different.

Let me put it this way—it’s not a metaphor. It’s the truth.

If a family wants their child to mature early, they’d usually foster independence, right? But in my clan? Not a chance. I still remember being ten years old.

Zeming... just thinking about it now...

Our family fortune came from computer parts—hardware, software, graphics cards. But there was a tiny problem: the real money came from other... less savory ventures.

"Son~~~"

Back then, my old man carried a stack of tapes, walked me to the TV, and slid one R-18 disc after another into the player. Naive little me waited patiently for some epic story. Fate’s cruel joke—I accidentally picked up the tape boxes.

*From Japan. R-18. Adults Only.* I finally understood what those words meant. My pure heart shattered beyond repair that day.

He had no clue my eyes burned shut the next morning after watching so many! It drained me!

Honestly, my family was a mess. Dad taught me to watch adult films at ten. Grandpa drilled me on hiding porn mags neatly. Even now, stacks of them lurk under Zeming and Eira’s beds.

Thankfully, Mom was reliable. Behind every man, there’s a woman—or man (chuckle)—making things work. I’m grateful heaven gave me her. She kept Dad running the business smoothly, so our legacy never crumbled.

Though Mom had her silly moments too...

Truthfully, her side of the family felt odd. Normal whirlwind marriages pick ordinary families. Why did she end up with someone like Eira? A woman from a mysterious lineage where even her parents were Heroes.

Eira’s mother, Evelyn, handled special military ops. Her father, Lloyd Stein, ranked 22nd globally as the Void Stranger—now an officer. In a world flooded with millions of Heroes, cracking the top thousand was a dream. Their existence felt godlike to some.

Why would a god-tier family choose someone like me? That question never got answered. But looking at my happy life now? No need to overthink. Just live.

"Daddy, won’t you join the bath?"

Little Vivian turned, pulling off her shirt. Zeming was still glued to a sci-fi action flick on TV.

"Me? No, no, no."

Being asked by a half-naked little girl was... awkward.

Especially one with delicate, pearl-like skin. Her undeveloped body already held every feature of a future beauty—except the curves.

"Please? Just this once~~"

Even with that pleading tone, he couldn’t agree.

"Don’t trouble Daddy. He already bathed."

Eira wrapped a towel around Vivian from behind and carried her toward the bathroom.

"Really?"

He hadn’t bathed, but letting the kid believe it was fine.

"Of course. And men don’t bathe with women. Remember that."

"Why not? Vivian saw a big brother on TV sitting in a bath with a golden-haired lady. What were they doing? Why did they press mouths together?"

Vivian pointed at Zeming’s show—a couple, after escaping enemies, found love. The woman joined the man in his bath. Now they were... releasing primal energy.

"T-that’s... no! That’s not it!"

Eira froze, scrambling for words. The TV chose that moment to pour gasoline on the fire:

[*Husband, kiss me... please... don’t stop.*]

"Do Daddy and Mommy do that too? It looks weird."

Vivian tilted her head, glancing back at the screen.

"N-no! We never—"

"Does Mommy not love Daddy?"

Vivian pointed at the new scene. Why was the world so full of misunderstandings?

[*Love me. Right here. Do as you please.*]

That line ignited Eira’s fury. For a girl who’d never been on a date, never let boys touch her—and reacted violently if they did—it was a crushing blow.

"What are you doing?! Turn it off!!"

Eira glared daggers at Zeming. He blinked, then snapped to action.

He grabbed the remote—but panic made it slippery as soap. It flew into the air.

The TV escalated. The scene crossed into territory no innocent child should imagine.

The man thrust over the woman. Their bathwater sloshed violently as movements grew frantic.

"Holy crap—my remote! Remote!"

It bounced off the floor, then vanished into the sofa’s crevice.

Zeming reached, but his thick arm couldn’t squeeze through.

He’d misunderstood. The innocent one was little Vivian. The flustered, flushed one was Eira—the truly chaste girl starved of male "attention."

"ENOUGH————————"

Eira’s patience snapped. She swiped her hand through the air with a sharp *crack*. A blade flashed out, splitting the giant TV cleanly in half before anyone could blink.

"Holy hell!"

Zeming stared, shaking his head at the severed screen’s exposed circuits.

"Come, Vivian. Bath time. Some things aren’t for little girls to know."

Eira shot Zeming a death glare, twirling her blade as a warning.

He swallowed hard, feeling a distinct chill below his waist.

"Bath time?"

"I’ll wash your hair well. You’ll sleep soundly after."

Watching mother and daughter disappear into the bathroom, Zeming rose from the sofa.

His relieved expression hardened. Icy eyes locked onto the window.

"Who’s out there? Stalking my home in the dead of night."

He threw open the window, gripped the frame, and leaned far out.

Without hesitation, he leaped down. His gaze pierced the darkness, fixed on a shadowy figure atop a distant skyscraper.

"Transform!!!"

His hand swept across his waist. A belt snapped into place.