Slime Evolution

Chapter 442 - Right on Time

The garage, with dozens of sports cars lined up under the soft artificial lighting, had always been Isabella’s refuge of peace and calm, but this time her gaze went straight, without a moment’s hesitation, to one specific vehicle.

The matte black Porsche 911, the exact same car Lohan had taken such an interest in the last time they’d been there together.

A slightly mischievous smile formed on her face as she approached the vehicle.

’He seems to really like this car,’ she thought, getting into the driver’s seat and feeling the soft leather against her skin. ’I think it could be a nice surprise.’

With a simple command, the engine purred quietly before the car smoothly lifted off, cutting through the air toward Lohan’s apartment in the High Zone.

While Isabella dealt with her own personal drama over clothes, on the other side of the city, Lohan wasn’t anywhere near that kind of dilemma.

For him, choosing an outfit was almost automatic, a decision that didn’t even cross his mind as something requiring thought. After all, he himself would be the one responsible for handling the barbecue, and any overly extravagant or elaborate outfit would only get in the way, whether from the risk of staining expensive fabric with sauce or grease, or simply for the practicality of moving around the grill.

He grabbed a plain, basic, comfortable black shirt, which, with his newly developed muscles, fit slightly snug against his body, paired it with loose black jeans, and after realizing sandals wouldn’t go well with those pants, he opted for a casual, comfortable pair of sneakers that Lisa herself had picked out for him during that afternoon at the mall a few weeks earlier.

Glancing quickly in the bedroom mirror before heading out, even without any specially elaborate outfit, the reflection Lohan saw was already completely different from the skinny, awkward boy he had once been.

His body, shaped by weeks of constant development and the gradual fusion with the Slime’s traits, now showed defined muscle without being over the top, his broad shoulders filling out the simple shirt nicely, and his face, which had already been handsome even before all this started, had gained even more striking features, his jawline more defined, his skin with an almost impossibly healthy texture.

Even without any conscious effort to look impressive, Lohan simply was.

Heading down from the building on foot, he calmly crossed the street toward the market on the other side, a spacious, well lit establishment that catered exclusively to High Zone clientele.

Unlike the Low Zone, where the constant toxic haze forced everyone to wear filter masks all the time, out there in the High Zone the air was clean enough that no one needed to hide their own face. People walked around confidently, showing off expensive, extravagant clothes with no fear of being robbed, many of them clearly overdoing it on purpose just to catch each other’s attention.

Inside the market, a young girl, dressed in clothes with clear designer labels that made her origins in that neighborhood obvious, chatted animatedly with her friend beside her while the two picked out some snacks to eat during the night.

”And then I told her I definitely wasn’t going to...” the girl started telling her story, but stopped mid sentence when the market’s automatic door opened and Lohan walked in casually.

Her eyes followed his movement almost involuntarily, assessing every detail with the trained precision someone who grew up surrounded by luxury could develop. His face, his defined jawline, his confident posture. But what really caught her attention wasn’t just his physical appearance, it was the seemingly simple outfit that, to ordinary eyes, might go unnoticed, but that to her, used to recognizing labels and fabric cuts at a mere glance, screamed luxury brand in every inch.

”Hey, are you even listening to me?” her friend asked, noticing the sudden silence.

Getting no answer, the friend followed the girl’s gaze until she found the reason, and was also momentarily left speechless.

”Who is that?” the friend whispered, her eyes wide.

”No idea,” the first girl murmured, still unable to fully look away.

Lohan, completely oblivious to that little scene, or maybe just too used to that kind of reaction after months of receiving curious looks both in the real world and in Elysium, headed straight for the premium meat section of the market.

He carefully looked over the available cuts, picking out some fine cuts of beef, some seasoned chicken cuts, and even a few artisanal sausages that looked good. After making sure the variety was good enough, he headed to the drinks section.

It was there that Lohan ran into a problem completely different from anything he knew how to solve easily.

Whole shelves of bottles with elegant labels stretched out before him, aged whiskeys, imported wines from wineries with complicated names, craft beers from every kind of origin. The old Lohan, that weak, malnourished boy from the Low Zone who could barely get clean water to drink, had never had the slightest opportunity to learn anything about that world of expensive, sophisticated drinks.

’I have absolutely no idea what to pick here,’ he thought, looking from one label to another without being able to tell any meaningful difference between them.

With no patience to research or waste time comparing brands, he simply reached out and grabbed the first bottle of whiskey within arm’s reach, followed by a bottle of red wine chosen just as randomly.

Satisfied with his own selection, even without any certainty about the actual quality of those choices, he headed for the market exit. The automatic sensors installed in the ceiling registered every item he carried, deducting the exact amount directly from the bank account linked to his ocular device, with no need for a cashier or a line.

Already outside, walking back toward the building, Lohan heard a familiar sound cutting through the air above him, the powerful, distinctive roar of a sports car engine approaching.

Raising his eyes to the sky, he saw the black Porsche 911 smoothly descending toward the building’s penthouse, right on time.