My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 7 7: My Grandma Was Cooking

I drifted in the waters of my swimming pool, my gaze fixed on the glowing status screen hovering before me.

[Status]

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Name : Billion Ironhart

Race : Human

Class : N/A

Laws : N/A

Level : 0

Talent :

- Generator 1

- Essence : 0/5

Attributes :

- Strength: 8

- Constitution: 7

- Dexterity: 10

- Psynapse : 7

Unused Stats: 0

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My Dexterity had finally reached the 10-point mark. I relished the sensation; a distinct transformation had taken root in my physique, as if an invisible ceiling had been shattered, marking the official start of my journey toward peak Cultivation.

"This talent is too overpowered. Four hours of training, and I got a whole 1 unit of stat."

A surge of adrenaline coursed through me. I was certain that by utilizing this talent effectively and prioritizing its upgrades, I would consistently outpace my rivals.

However, a limitation existed. I couldn't activate it incessantly—not due to the energy absorption process itself, but because of the extreme physical toll required to produce that much energy. But if an external source provided the energy and I merely acted as the vessel for absorption, the situation would change entirely.

A smirk played on my lips. The possibilities were endless.

Checking the time, I let out a soft sigh.

'I should get out. It's already five. Grandma's about to arrive.'

Exiting the pool, I made a beeline for my quarters. After scrubbing myself clean in the shower, I pulled on a pair of black trousers and a crisp, light blue dress shirt, finishing the look with a splash of cologne to ensure I appeared sharp.

My grandmother, Elena Ironhart, was a formidable woman who tolerated no nonsense. She was the embodiment of grit and discipline, prioritizing professional conduct above all else. Since the passing of her son and daughter-in-law, her demeanor had grown even more stoic. I was the solitary person who could ever draw a smile from her.

She held immense power within the military and carried significant weight in the capital. It was her decree that I attend Avenue Academy—the same institution my mother once attended—to honor her legacy. Despite her connections being strong enough to place me in any elite capital academy, she chose this path. She truly was a woman of formidable influence.

Standing at the main entrance, I felt the refreshing evening air against my skin. The sky was bathed in deep orange hues as the sun began its descent. I glanced at my watch: 5:55 PM. She was perfectly on time.

Moments later, the low rumble of an engine echoed through the air. A polished, armored black sedan glided up the driveway, coming to a halt directly in front of me. The locks disengaged with a subtle click.

The rear door swung open, and she emerged.

Elena Ironhart.

She was clad in her signature military gear—a sharp, midnight-black uniform, gleaming boots, and a service badge that caught the last rays of the sun. Her dark hair was secured in a tight, efficient bun, and her piercing brown eyes immediately locked onto mine.

She inspected me briefly, a faint smile touching her lips.

I instinctively stood at attention, my back straight.

"Welcome home, Grandma."

She gave a curt nod, walking past me with the disciplined stride of a veteran. As she moved by, she remarked dryly:

"Too much cologne."

Suppressing a chuckle, I followed her into the house.

Once inside, I took a seat on the sofa across from her in the parlor.

She observed me in silence for several heartbeats before speaking.

"So, how did your awakening go?"

I beamed at her.

"It was successful. I awakened a talent as well."

Her slight smile vanished, replaced by a look of brief astonishment.

"You got a talent?"

"Yes."

Her face smoothed back into its typical mask of calm almost instantly.

"What kind of talent?"

I provided a concise summary, explaining the process of how I had elevated my Dexterity from 9 to 10.

She remained motionless, lost in thought. I found myself wondering what tactical calculations were running through her mind.

Eventually, she rose to her feet.

"Come. It's your last day before probation. Let me make dinner for you."

Nodding with a smile, I trailed after her into the kitchen.

***

She moved through the kitchen with practiced efficiency, her sleeves pushed up. The savory aroma of toasted spices filled the room as she tended to a pan, her focus entirely on the meal.

Perched on a stool, I watched her. Her cooking was a rare occurrence, which made these moments feel significant. She handled the knife with precision, dicing vegetables with expertly timed strokes before adding them to the heat. Without looking up, she addressed me.

"Your talent is definitely an advantageous thing for you, but that does not give you leeway to relax on your training. Am I clear?"

"Yes," I replied firmly.

She nodded once, her tone losing some of its edge.

"I have always raised you to be a man of principle and values, just like your father. I have rarely hidden any important information about the situation our world is facing. So, I would like it if you worked even harder, using your talent to its full potential, to always keep yourself safe."

I gave a silent nod of agreement. That was exactly what I intended to do; I had my own goals to achieve.

Elena stirred the pan, allowing the fragrance to bloom before she spoke again.

"Now, let me tell you what I think of your talent. I know some details about the talents that other people, and even some of the strongest warriors have awakened. I have seen talents that level up, but never one that allows upgrades as well."

A sense of pride welled up within me at her words.

She went on.

"Your talent possesses immense potential. However, you must realize that the primary value isn't just the stat boost. It is the capacity to harness energy and transform it into Essence. The stat increases should be viewed as a secondary benefit."

I leaned in, hanging on every word.

"Because of your talent, you will be exposed to Essence way before anyone else. You should always try to feel it, understand it, follow it. The more you learn about Essence, the more powerful you will become."

She looked up then, her sharp gaze meeting mine directly.

"Consider this—if you were to use that stored Essence for an offensive move, how would you execute it? Would you simply channel it through a punch? Or could you devise a more creative application? Furthermore, your talent is labeled 'Generator,' not 'Essence Generator.' This suggests it might eventually evolve to produce other forms of power."

I contemplated the weight of her advice. She was right. Mastering Essence and its applications would be the foundation of my strength, and the potential for evolution was a game-changer.

"Essentially, three pillars will define your power—your Class choice, provided you secure a high-tier one; the stat bonuses from your talent; and most crucially, your mastery over Essence."

I found myself in total agreement with her logic.

Suddenly, a rare spark of excitement flickered in her eyes.

"After hearing about your talent, I just had a wild idea. Would you like to hear it?"

I straightened my back, alert.

"Yes. What kind of idea?"

She folded her arms, her voice taking on a speculative tone.

"You are currently Level 0, and you receive 5 points per level to distribute across four attributes. By the time you hit Level 25, you will have accumulated 125 points."

She paused to let the math sink in.

"Most people don't distribute points equally. Even if a person started with a balanced 10 in every stat at Level 0, they wouldn't manage to reach 50 in all categories before selecting their Class."

I furrowed my brow, trying to anticipate her conclusion.

"So here's my idea—why don't you try to surpass 50 stat points in all attributes before hitting Level 25?"

My eyes went wide in shock.

She smirked at my reaction.

"I would even suggest going as high above 50 as possible. I'm sure it would give you access to some incredible class choices."

I considered the gravity of the suggestion. No one in the history of Cultivation had ever achieved 50 points in every attribute prior to Class selection. If I succeeded, I would be venturing into the unknown.

In that instant, my mind was made up. I would achieve it.

No matter the hardship or the endless nights of training, I would reach that goal.

Driven by sudden fervor, I stood up and was about to drop into a squat when—

"Billion, sit."

I froze mid-motion, let out an awkward cough, and sat back down without a word.

I waited quietly as Grandma finished the preparations.

Once the food was ready, we sat across from one another at the table. The meal was simple but filling, typical of her cooking style. I ate in silence, acutely aware that this was our final meal together before my departure.

Setting her spoon aside, Grandma fixed her unwavering gaze on me.

"Billion, take care of yourself."

I nodded while I chewed.

"Eat properly. Don't skip meals just because you're training."

"I won't."

"Train properly. Don't get complacent."

"Yes, Grandma."

She let out a breath, her eyes softening ever so slightly.

"You are the only family I have left."

I paused, lowering my spoon.

"I know."

"Then act like it. Don't do anything reckless. Keep your head down when needed, and fight when it matters. And keep your talent a secret as long as possible ok."

I gave her a wide grin.

"I'll make you proud."

"You already do."

That admission stunned me. I stared at her, but she had already returned to her meal as if she hadn't just dropped a bombshell of emotion.

Under the table, I squeezed my fist tight.

"I'll come back stronger."

She gave a single, firm nod. "Good."

The rest of the dinner passed in a comfortable silence.