Thora's POV: After last night's argument with Norman, I couldn't be bothered to go downstairs to see them. I had the servants bring my meals directly to my room. Apart from daily training, I spent my time in my room practicing my abilities. I raised my hand and channeled my power. With a slight movement of my fingertips, the water filled glass on the table levitated. First it slid half an inch along the table's edge, then rose vertically two feet, and even circled precisely around a pen holder three times. The rim remained perfectly level the entire time, as if nailed in place, without spilling a single drop. "Ms. Thora, Mr. Green sent me to ask if you've changed into your outfit yet. Mr. Marlon, Mrs. Green, and Ms. Hazel are all ready to leave," a servant knocked and inquired.I slowly lowered my hand, and the floating glass descended gently to rest on the table surface without making a sound. I let out a long breath, fine beads of sweat forming on my forehead. As expected, my abilities were gradually recovering along with my physical condition. The weight of objects I could precisely control now and the duration I could maintain it were at least three times stronger than when I first woke up. Moreover, the blue light representing power on my soulstone had deepened from the previous faint pale blue to a clear sky blue. Though it was still far from the indigo of my previous life's peak, at this rate of practice, I believed it wouldn't be long before Amie could successfully awaken too. "Ms. Thora?" the servant called again. "Got it. I'll be down shortly." I walked to the closet, intending to grab something at random, only to find that most of it was filled with elaborate dresses. Dresses were inconvenient for movement and gave me no sense of security. In the apocalypse, no one exposed their skin. If chaotic lunar radiation swept over you, or if a mutant werewolf's toxic blood splattered on you, the skin would rot. At worst, the toxins would invade your soulstone, and even your awakened wolf spirit would disintegrate. There'd be no saving you. My gaze fell on the academy uniform tucked in the corner of the closet, and I casually pulled it out. Whatever. I'd wear this. This banquet was just going through the motions anyway. When I came downstairs after changing, only Felix was there. "Where is everyone?" "Already left," Felix said, glancing me up and down with a furrowed brow. "Thora, you're wearing that to the banquet?" Seeing his disapproving expression, I kept a straight face and said seriously, "This is the hottest trend right now. Academy chic. Got it? Let's go." "Fine, if you say it's trendy, then it's trendy." Felix stopped fussing about my outfit, and we headed together to the Navarro Hotel where the banquet was being held. By the time Felix and I arrived, the banquet hall was already packed with well-dressed werewolf nobles. "Thora, they're over there." Felix jerked his chin in their direction. I followed his gaze. At that moment, the Greens family members were standing together in a pleasant conversation with the Lawsons from Silver Valley Pack. Caleb was practically glued to Hazel's side, his eyes fixed on her.Norman spotted me too, and his expression instantly turned cold. I withdrew my gaze and headed in another direction. "I'm not interested in getting chewed out." Felix hurried after me. "Where are you going?" "To eat." I walked straight toward a row of fruit platters and meat dishes. Just then, some guys in the distance called out to Felix. "Thora, I'm gonna head over there for a second, okay?" "Okay." I nodded and began working through the food on the platters. Banquets were something that only existed in times of peace and prosperity. In the apocalypse where food was scarce and resources limited, I'd never attended such an occasion.So in my view, this was just a meal. And since it was a meal, food shouldn't be wasted. "Hey there, handsome." Suddenly a delighted voice rang out beside me. I looked up to see a girl with pigtails standing before me. I recognized her. "It's you?" "It really is you! I was afraid I'd gotten the wrong person." Her big eyes lit up instantly. We'd only met once. I had no idea why she was acting like she'd run into an old friend so excitedly. Yesterday at the mall, while buying workout equipment, I happened to see her at a checkout without enough money. To save time, I paid for her. She'd asked for my phone number. I didn't give it to her.She was just a stranger passing by. I never expected to run into her here today. Clearly her background wasn't ordinary. "I can't believe I'm seeing you here! My name's Shirley Reed. What's yours?" As she spoke, she reached out her hand toward me. I noticed her hand. The webbing between her thumb and forefinger, as well as her index finger knuckles, had thick calluses, and her palm was far less smooth and fair than the skin on her arms. These were clearly marks left from long-term gun handling. In fact ... Judging by the position and thickness of these calluses, they looked more like the hands of someone who regularly gripped a sniper rifle. A sniper's hands.