My life wasn't just about the Workshop or school, though.
I was also the heir to one of the largest companies in the world.
Mishima Corporation.
Even now, that name gives me a weird sense of nostalgia.
Should I also plan to host my own King of the Iron Fist tournament in the future?
Hey, a guy can dream, right?
Anyway, my parents called me into the headquarters again, because that was just part of the routine. As the heir, they wanted me to learn the ropes of running the company.
No pressure, right? Just "learn how to be a billionaire in a few weeks."
Easy. I'm just glad the previous Tatsuya memories helped me adapt to this.
I stepped into the sleek black sedan, the usual "quiet efficiency" of Hayama accompanying me. He didn't talk much, just opened the door, gave his standard nod, and ushered me in like I was some sort of VIP.
I'd been playing the role of heir for a few weeks now that it felt like I could probably do this in my sleep. Well, maybe not sleep, but definitely with my eyes half-closed.
When we arrived, I could already see the tower looming ahead.
Mishima HQ, a massive glass-and-steel behemoth, stood tall and proud, as if it had some kind of superiority complex.
I swear, even the windows had an attitude. I climbed out of the car and gave Hayama a nod. He didn't say anything, as usual.
Inside, the whole place smelled like expensive coffee and impending existential crises. I made my way past the marble floors and into the elevator, the doors closed, and I was off to meet the parents. Fun times ahead.
"Ah, Tatsuya," my dad's voice cut through the quiet as I entered the conference room. He was sitting at the head of the table, going over some kind of financial data on his tablet, looking all business-like.
"You're here."
I shrugged. These past weeks I became comfortable talking to them, while they may be absent most of the time, they mean well and made sure to check me from time to time.
They are just workaholics.
"Good," he said, giving me a rare smile.
"We need you in the conference room in an hour. The quarterly reports are in. We'll be discussing some shifts in our strategy for the next quarter."
Translation: "Sit through a meeting, look like you care, and don't embarrass us."
"Got it," I said automatically.
This wasn't really my scene. Numbers, projections, and corporate jargon? Not exactly my idea of a good time. But hey, I'd gotten pretty good at nodding thoughtfully while pretending to know what was going on.
After that, I excused myself and headed to my office. I barely even looked at the space anymore. It was the kind of room that looked like it belonged in a high-end showroom, not somewhere someone actually worked.
Everything was too clean, too perfect.
I sat down and pulled out my laptop, the usual flood of emails and reports greeting me. It wasn't like I had any choice but to go through it. Mishima Corp wasn't going to run itself, after all.
The timer on my armor was ticking down, and the elixir was almost done, but for now, it was back to pretending to be a functioning heir. Fun times.
Before I could get too comfortable, Hayama returned with another stack of files. He handed them over, his expression as unreadable as ever.
"There's an issue with the Mishima tech division," he said, his voice flat. "They're seeking approval for a new project. It's related to the upcoming launch of a new AI-driven product line."
"Tell them to hold off," I said without looking up. "We've got enough on our plate right now. Let's focus on what we've got. If it's important, we'll revisit it later."
"Understood, young master." Hayama nodded and disappeared back into the maze of the office.
The rest of the day was just another blur of meetings and strategy sessions, all of which could've been condensed into one sentence: "How can we make more money while avoiding major lawsuits?" My mind wasn't even half in it.
My body was there, but my thoughts were already in the Workshop, trying to figure out how I could move on from this corporate nonsense and finally get home.
By the time I finally escaped the office, the sun had started to dip into the horizon, casting everything in a nice, golden hue that almost made me feel like I wasn't suffocating under the weight of family expectations. Almost.
The black sedan was waiting again, and I slumped into the seat like I was about to pass out from sheer boredom. Hayama gave his usual greeting, and I sighed, leaning my head back against the headrest.
Back at the mansion. I made my way upstairs to my room, tossing my jacket onto a chair and collapsing onto the bed for a second, just long enough to let out a sigh that probably aged me ten years.
But then—ping.
The alert in my head echoed like a tiny notification bell from heaven.
[Dragon's Elixir – Manifestation Complete.]
I pulled it from the inventory.
The vial materialized in my palm with a thunk, warmer than expected. Elegant black glass with golden carvings running along the side. Every few seconds, a pulse of energy surged through it, like a heartbeat. Or maybe that was my heartbeat syncing with it.
This was it.
The Dragon's Elixir.
I sat on the edge of my bed, rolling the vial between my fingers. The liquid inside shimmered with a heatless glow, shifting colors like molten gold.
Half the vial would be enough. A mana core. A true foundation. I could use Mana Burst.
The full dose, though…
That was the plan.
Steel-hard skin. No hunger. No aging. A healing factor that could knit flesh and muscle back together in minutes. A body rewritten by the blood of something ancient and powerful.
I stared at the elixir for a long moment.
Then I pulled the cork.
"Bottoms up," I muttered, and downed the whole thing.
The taste hit like lightning—sharp, wild, but not unpleasant. Like drinking the raw idea of a thunderstorm.
And then—
It began.
Not pain.
Not even heat.
Just… ignition.
Like something old inside me had been waiting to wake up.
Like my body had finally remembered what it could be.
I barely made it to the floor before the first wave hit.
Muscle. Senses.Bone. Breath. Magic.
Everything was changing.
I didn't black out. I kind of wish I had.
Because what came next wasn't some graceful anime-style power-up where I glowed a little, maybe floated off the ground, and got a new haircut. No. This was raw. Internal. Ugly.
The first thing I felt was pressure. Not on my body—inside it. Like someone had reached into my chest and started slowly inflating a balloon in my soul. I couldn't breathe for a second, not because my lungs weren't working, but because I forgot how. My entire focus tunneled into that one sensation, this impossible mass forming just beneath my sternum, near the center of my being.
The mana core.
It wasn't metaphorical. It was real. I could feel it—dense, radiant, like a small star trying to settle into orbit inside me. It pulsed with every heartbeat, and with each pulse, I felt mana begin to circulate, drawn in from the air like I'd just opened a vacuum seal.
My vision flickered.
Not fading.
Enhancing.
Suddenly, the world had weight. Every particle in the air, every inch of my skin, every heartbeat sounded like a drumbeat in my head. The mana flowed—no, rushed—through my system, carving new paths, new circuits, as if my body was being upgraded from the inside out.
I clenched my jaw and fell to one knee, gripping the floor.
The surface cracked.
I blinked down, stunned for half a second. My handprint was embedded in the hardwood. Not scorched. Just… crushed.
The mana was bleeding into my muscles, my bones, my nerves. And it didn't hurt, not exactly. It was like being reshaped while still conscious. My muscles tightened—not bulging, but coiling, like something efficient and predatory. Like power condensed.
Every fiber of me felt alive.
Hot, focused energy surged down my limbs, spiraling into my fingertips and toes. I could feel it even in my teeth.
And beneath it all, deeper than thought, was the core—this ever-pulsing reservoir that was already gathering mana like it had been starving for it.
I took a breath.
Mana flooded in.
I took another.
More.
It was endless.
Like I'd been trying to breathe through a straw my whole life, and now I'd been handed an open sky.
I dropped onto my back, chest heaving—not from exhaustion, but because my body didn't know how else to respond.
I'd done it.
The core was real. Mine.
Generating mana passively, without conscious effort. I could already feel it healing the tears in my muscles from the transformation.
Strengthening me.
Fortifying me.
I flexed my hand.
I had mana now.
A lot of it.