As soon as I finished work in Osaka, I returned to New York. Jonathan was now in his early thirties, but his face had a lot of wrinkles. Since he felt self-conscious, he was getting a premium massage from a famous masseuse who only dealt with the upper class. When I came in, Jonathan sent the masseuse outside. He said to the mirror while washing the massage oil off his face, “It might be because you are Asian, but you don’t seem to age.”

“No, you’re getting ridiculously old,” I replied.

He snorted. “Heh. You have no conscience. When are you going to come out into the world? I’m getting exhausted by myself.”

“Don’t be such a baby.”

War never stopped on Wall Street, where Jonathan belonged. He had led the acquisition of integrating medium-sized banks last year, and he was now a joint stakeholder and the lead manager of Googol. That was why his skin was rough and was in the midst of a breakout.

Poor Jonathan.

If he had awakened in his twenties, he would have kept his youth. Instead, he had awakened on the Day of Advent in my past life. He sat in front of me after wiping the water off his face.

“Investing in Googol...