The golden sunlight bathed the expansive fields as Adam's voice echoed across the open landscape. "Father! I brought your lunch!" he called out, his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the sound.

In the distance, Adam's father, Ricky, straightened up from where he had been working in the soil.

A wide-brimmed hat shielded his face from the sun, though his warm smile was clearly visible even from afar.

He raised a hand in acknowledgment, his other hand gripping a spade caked with dirt. His loose clothing—a simple, light-colored tunic and trousers typical of the villagers—was streaked with mud from his work.

Despite the sweat on his brow and the dust clinging to his clothes, his demeanor was relaxed, almost cheerful.

Adam approached, the crunch of his footsteps muted by the soft earth beneath him. As he drew closer, Ricky's smile widened.

It was clear from the fondness in his eyes that he adored his youngest son. Like the rest of the family, Ricky had a soft spot for Adam, often indulging his whims and rarely scolding him.

But Ricky wasn't oblivious to the situation. Even before Adam reached him, Ricky could guess why his son had been sent out to deliver lunch today.

"Let me guess," Ricky said, his voice light with amusement. "You were at the cremation ground again, weren't you?"

Adam froze mid-step, momentarily startled. He quickly recovered, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "I like it there," he admitted, shrugging. "It's peaceful."

Ricky chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned his spade against a nearby tree. "You're lucky your mother loves you as much as she does. Anyone else would have gotten an earful worse than what you got."

Adam couldn't help but smile at his father's teasing tone. It was a relief after the scolding he had endured earlier.

Ricky motioned toward the shade of the tree, and both father and son made their way over. Ricky lowered himself onto the ground, sitting cross-legged as he untied the cloth bundle Adam had brought. The rich aroma of cooked vegetables and warm bread filled the air as he opened the lunchbox.

Adam lingered a short distance away, leaning his back against the sturdy trunk of the tree. He watched as his father ate, his mind churning with thoughts.

They still eat on the ground? Adam wondered, his modern sensibilities kicking in. He glanced around the field, taking in the simple tools, the rudimentary irrigation system, and the lack of any advanced machinery. It's so different from Earth. Civilization here feels so far behind.

But another thought quickly pushed that observation aside, one that sent a spark of excitement through him. His eyes darted to the horizon, where the fields stretched endlessly under the warm sun.

What else can I do with my powers?

The discovery of his magical ability was still fresh, and Adam was itching to test its limits. A part of him hesitated. What if I overdo it and drain all my mana again? The memory of his earlier collapse sent a shiver down his spine.

But the thrill of exploration was too tempting to ignore.

Adam's gaze shifted to his father, who was quietly enjoying his meal. Ricky seemed entirely unaware of the storm of thoughts brewing in Adam's mind.

Maybe I should test something small… something simple, Adam thought. His fingers twitched slightly as he considered the possibilities.

That's when a realization struck him—something that made him pause.

Wait… my magic doesn't activate when I talk to other people. Why is that?

He replayed the moments in his mind, analyzing every instance when he had spoken normally without triggering any magical effects. The pattern was clear. It only happens when I use English.

The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. It's not my voice—it's the words I'm using. My magic is tied to the English language.

Adam's heart raced as the implications sank in. This was a breakthrough, a crucial piece of the puzzle that could help him understand and control his powers.

Eager to test his theory, Adam glanced around for a suitable target. His eyes landed on a small rock lying a short distance behind his father.

Keeping his movements subtle, Adam raised his hand slightly, pointing toward the rock. In the local language, he muttered, "Telekinesis."

Nothing happened.

His father continued eating, completely unbothered, as Adam frowned at the lack of results. He lowered his hand, his brow furrowing in thought.

So it really doesn't work in their language, he concluded.

Taking a deep breath, Adam raised his hand again. This time, he spoke in English, his voice steady but soft. "Telekinesis."

The effect was immediate.

The small rock behind Ricky began to tremble, then slowly lifted off the ground. It hovered in the air, spinning slightly as if caught in an invisible current. Adam's eyes widened, his breath hitching as he watched the phenomenon unfold.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

It's true, he thought, a sense of awe washing over him. My magic is tied to English words.

The rock hovered for a few moments before gently lowering itself back to the ground. Adam let out a shaky exhale, his heart pounding with excitement.

This changes everything, he thought, his mind racing with possibilities. The advantage this gave him was immense. If no one else in this world could use English the way he did, then his magic was unique—something no one could predict or counter.

But his excitement was short-lived as his father's voice broke through his thoughts.

"What's going on?" Ricky asked, turning to look at Adam. His sharp eyes scanned his son's face, noting the faint flush on his cheeks and the way he seemed lost in thought.

Adam quickly schooled his expression into one of nonchalance, offering a small smile. "Nothing," he said, shrugging. "Just… thinking."

Ricky raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Instead, he returned to his meal, shaking his head lightly. "You're quieter than usual today," he remarked. "That's not like you."

Adam chuckled nervously, leaning back against the tree. "Maybe I'm just tired," he replied, trying to sound casual.

Ricky didn't respond, his attention back on his food. Adam, however, couldn't stop the thoughts swirling in his mind.

This power… it's so much more than I expected. But how far can I push it? How much can I do?

As the midday sun continued to shine overhead, Adam sat in silence, his mind brimming with questions and possibilities. For now, he would keep his discovery to himself. But he knew that this was only the beginning.

The sun's rays filtered softly through the leaves of the large tree under which Adam sat, his back pressed against its sturdy trunk.

A cool breeze rustled the grass, offering a fleeting respite from the midday warmth. A short distance away, Ricky, Adam's father, sat cross-legged, enjoying his meal in quiet satisfaction.

But Adam was anything but calm.

His thoughts swirled like a storm, brimming with excitement and curiosity.

The realization he had stumbled upon earlier—his magic was tied to the English language, not just his voice—was groundbreaking. Ideas raced through his mind, each more fantastical than the last.

What else can I do? he thought, his heart pounding.

Images from his favorite anime surfaced, particularly one where the main character could see the future and anticipate an enemy's every move.

A mischievous grin spread across Adam's face. Why not give it a try?

Without thinking further, Adam clapped his hands together with a sharp sound that echoed through the quiet field.

Startled, Ricky glanced up from his meal, his brows furrowed in confusion. "Are you okay?" he asked, his tone tinged with concern.

Adam blinked, momentarily flustered. He quickly flashed a reassuring smile. "Uh, yeah… just a fly," he said, waving his hand dismissively.

Ricky tilted his head, his skeptical expression lingering for a moment before he shrugged and returned to his meal.

Adam let out a quiet sigh of relief, his thoughts returning to his experiment. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. Excitement bubbled in his chest, but so did apprehension.

What if it goes wrong?

The memory of his earlier collapse flashed in his mind—the drained mana, the helplessness. A part of him hesitated. But the thrill of discovery drowned out his doubts.

"I have to know," he whispered to himself. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and spoke the words with steady determination:

"Future Sight."

The moment the words left his lips, the world around him shifted.

His vision blurred, and a deep darkness enveloped him, swallowing the familiar sights of the field and the tree. The air grew heavy, pressing against him like an invisible weight.

Then, abruptly, the darkness shattered.

Adam found himself standing in the middle of a village street—his village.

But it wasn't the same as he had left it. The sun was gone, replaced by the cold glow of the moon hanging in a starless sky.

Shadows stretched unnaturally long across the cobblestone paths, flickering with the dim light of lanterns swaying in the wind.

His breath caught in his throat as he looked around.

Nearby, he saw his mother, Rachel, her face pale with worry. She held his hand tightly, her grip almost painful.

Beside her stood his siblings, Yami and Eric, their expressions equally grim. Sophia and her brother George were there too, their normally cheerful faces now marked with fear.

At the head of the group was Ricky, his father. His shoulders were tense, his gaze fixed ahead with an intensity that Adam had never seen before.

His father's voice rang out, firm and commanding, cutting through the eerie silence.

"We need to get to the village center," Ricky said, urgency lacing his tone. "The bunker is the safest place." Adam's confusion deepened. Bunker? What's going on?

He tried to speak, to ask a question, but the words wouldn't come. His body felt disconnected, as if he were a ghost merely observing the scene.

He noticed his mother's hand clutching his tightly, her knuckles white.

On his other side, he realized he was holding Sophia's hand. Her green eyes darted around nervously, her breaths coming in shallow gasps.

The group moved as one, their steps hurried and uneven. The air was thick with tension, every shadow seeming to loom with unseen threats. And then it happened.

A sharp whistle cut through the air, followed by a sickening thud.

Adam froze, his heart dropping into his stomach as his mother let out a strangled cry. Her hand slipped from his grasp as she stumbled forward, collapsing onto the cold ground.

"Mom!" Adam shouted, his voice breaking with panic.

His gaze snapped downward, and his blood ran cold. An arrow was embedded deep into her back, its shaft glistening with dark crimson under the pale moonlight.

Rachel's breathing was shallow, her body trembling as the pain overtook her.The world seemed to slow as Adam's mind raced, horror gripping him. He couldn't move, couldn't think.

"Rachel!" Ricky's anguished voice shattered the stillness.

Adam's father dropped to his knees beside his wife, his hands trembling as he tried to assess her wound.

Yami and Sophia knelt beside Rachel as well, their faces pale with fear. Tears streamed down Sophia's cheeks as she whispered Rachel's name over and over, her voice trembling.

Eric stood frozen, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. The shock in his eyes mirrored Adam's own.

Then, something shifted in Eric's expression. The fear was replaced by rage, burning fiercely as he turned toward the direction from which the arrow had come.

Without hesitation, he broke into a sprint, his tall frame moving with reckless determination.

"Eric, no!" Ricky called out, his voice filled with desperation.

But Eric didn't stop. His focus was locked on a figure that had emerged from the shadows.

The man was tall, his height imposing at nearly six feet. His movements were unnaturally fast, a blur as he stepped into the dim light of the night.

His clothing was an unsettling mix of colors, a patchwork of dark fabrics that gave him a ghostly appearance.

In his hand, he held a gleaming sword, the blade catching the faint light ominously.

Adam's breath hitched as he stared at the figure. A cold dread seeped into his chest, gripping him tightly.This… this is real danger, he thought, his mind racing.

For the first time since arriving in this world, Adam felt true fear.

The man's gaze flicked toward Eric, and a twisted smile spread across his face. He raised his sword, the motion fluid and deliberate.

Adam wanted to move, to scream, to do anything to stop what was about to happen. But he couldn't. His body remained frozen, his heart pounding wildly as the scene unfolded before him.

His chest heaved as he struggled to process what he had just seen. His hands trembled, and his heart raced.

And with that, the chapter came to a close, leaving Adam grappling with the weight of what he is witnessing.

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End of Chapter Six