When You're Poor, Nothing Works

During the homeroom class that afternoon, the teacher once again mentioned the topic of registering for Knight Academy.

Ohio High School wasn't doing too badly. In previous years, a few students had successfully been admitted to Knight Academy, and last year was particularly impressive, with five students getting in.

Even though Class 4 of the 12th grade was a regular class, two of the five admitted students from last year were from regular classes! 

Because of this, even though the school leadership usually didn't have high hopes for the regular classes, they were giving extra attention to this year's registration for Knight Academy.

Whether or not they got accepted wasn't the issue—it was about registering first. If you didn't register, you had no chance at all.

But that $10,000 registration fee was the first major barrier, blocking 99% of the students.

Unless someone had an incredible amount of confidence, no one would take the risk—except for those with money to spare.

So, when the homeroom teacher mentioned it, only a few confident students responded, and the rest remained silent.

After explaining the registration process, the teacher added one final note: "For those applying to Knight Academy, next Wednesday afternoon the school will hold a pre-exam Q&A session. We've made considerable efforts to invite William King, a student from Columbus Knight Academy, to give a talk. This is a great opportunity, so make sure you don't miss it. Those who register for Knight Academy will be notified. Remember to dress properly…"

The teacher repeated this several times, emphasizing how important it was for everyone to take it seriously.

William King, now just a freshman at Columbus Knight Academy, had graduated from Ohio High School last year. Even though he was only in his first year, his status was enough to garner significant respect from the school staff.

At that moment, Eric once again felt the clear divide between ordinary people and knights.

Chris, sitting next to him, was focused on something different. He muttered, "The school must've really forked out some cash for this. His appearance fee is probably five or six grand."

Eric raised an eyebrow in surprise. "He's coming back to share his experiences with his juniors and still needs to get paid?"

Chris chuckled. "Of course! You think knights are easy to hire? Knight students are way busier than us. We still get summer and winter breaks, but they have to make money and train during their breaks. Why would anyone waste time helping others for free? Even if William didn't ask for it, the school would still offer it. You can only use up so much goodwill. If they asked knights to come back every year for free, those favors would run out fast. Paying them now helps keep the relationship good, and when these knights really make it big, they might remember the favor."

Hearing Chris's explanation, Eric nodded in understanding. Then he gave Chris a surprised look and teased, "Didn't expect you to see things so clearly."

Chris gave a self-deprecating smile. "It's nothing…"

After that, Chris stopped talking, but Eric couldn't help but think to himself—knights really did make money easier than regular people.

A freshman comes to speak for two or three hours and makes five or six thousand dollars. Even if this wasn't the norm, it was still more money than his parents made working all year.

…

Once the homeroom period ended, Eric endured a few more classes before the afternoon bell finally rang.

It was Saturday, and there were no evening study sessions.

With the college entrance exams just around the corner, some students preparing for Knight Academy didn't even bother coming to evening classes anymore. The school cared more about Knight Academy students than liberal arts students, even though only a few got in each year.

After leaving the school with Chris and a few other close friends, they parted ways at the gate.

Eric followed the familiar route home.

As he walked, he started to feel hesitant.

While this world had many similarities to the one he remembered, there were still plenty of differences. Was his house still in the same place? Were his parents still the same?

As someone who mentally felt closer to 30 years old, Eric wasn't sure how to handle the possibility of his family being different.

"They shouldn't be different, right?" Eric muttered, trying to reassure himself.

His classmates hadn't changed, his teachers hadn't changed, so his parents probably hadn't either. Even so, he couldn't help daydreaming—what if he went home and found out his family had become the wealthiest in town? Or even better, what if his parents were top-tier knights?

That would be nice, wouldn't it?

But that was just wishful thinking.

Feeling the harsh "reality" of this world, Eric didn't hold out much hope for such a pleasant surprise.

…

Twenty minutes later, Eric arrived at his neighborhood.

"Lakeside Garden."

The name sounded nice, but in reality, it was one of the older residential areas in Ohio, with buildings over 30 years old.

Looking at the familiar, slightly rundown apartment complex, Eric gave up on any dreams of his family being rich.

He remembered how, as a kid, he had always felt frustrated that they were never part of a "redevelopment project."

Since the start of the 21st century, every year there had been rumors that Lakeside Garden would be torn down and redeveloped. But here it was, 2018, and nothing had changed.

There was no sentimental feeling about coming home. After all, Eric had just been here a few days ago to visit his parents before his rebirth.

The fact that his parents were now younger was a plus—at least he didn't have to deal with too much emotional complexity.

Building 6, Apartment 101.

Standing outside, Eric didn't knock. Instead, he pulled out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.

As soon as the door opened, he was greeted by the sight of a cramped living room.

As a 30-year-old apartment in this old complex, the place wasn't big, with most of the units being small.

Eric's family lived in a two-bedroom apartment, but it was only about 600 square feet. Over the years, more and more stuff had accumulated, making the already cramped living room feel even more crowded.

Despite the clutter, the house was kept neat and clean. His mother, Mary Parker, had always made sure of that.

Living on the ground floor of an old building came with many downsides, like bugs and mice, dampness, and lots of dust. Plus, the noise from upstairs neighbors often echoed down.

But the one advantage of living in an old complex was that they had a small yard.

Since Lakeside Garden's property management was practically non-existent, no one from the authorities ever bothered with the yard extensions, and no one considered them illegal.

The Parker family's living room had an additional door that led directly to the backyard.

The kitchen and bathroom had been built out there, while the original kitchen and bathroom had been converted into a small room that became Eric's bedroom.

Normally, a two-bedroom apartment wouldn't need this kind of renovation. But Eric had a younger sister, Amy Parker, who was in middle school. With four people living in such a small space, the extra room was necessary.

Just as Eric was thinking, his sister's voice rang out from inside the house.

"Eric! How dare you come home!"

Amy's voice was a bit sharp, but she was only 13, and her voice, while high-pitched, wasn't annoying.

A moment later, a small figure came charging out of one of the rooms.

Amy was short, her face still round with baby fat. Despite her angry expression, her puffed-up cheeks made her look more cute than fierce.

Seeing Amy, Eric felt an irresistible urge. Before she could say anything, he stepped forward and pinched her chubby cheeks, gently pulling them apart.

As Amy glared at him in frustration, Eric smiled with satisfaction. "It's been so long since I last pinched these cheeks. Finally got my chance!"

Right now, Amy's face was still soft and round, but in a few years, it would slim down, and Eric knew that once that happened, the baby fat would be gone forever.

It was something Eric had always regretted.

There's just something so satisfying about pinching a round face, and once it's gone, it's just not the same.

As Eric basked in his delight, Amy shouted angrily, "Mom! Eric's pinching my face again!"

Out in the yard, their mother, Mary, was busy in the kitchen. She didn't even turn around and just chuckled, "Stop messing around. We'll eat when your dad gets home. I made your favorites today."

"Mom!"

Amy wasn't satisfied with her mother's casual response. She glared at Eric in frustration.

Then, as if she had just remembered something, she said angrily, "Eric, pay me back!"

"What?"

"Don't play dumb! Mom gave us $50, and we agreed to split it. Why is there only $5 left on my desk? Where's the rest?"

Eric froze. Was that really a thing?

So, the $28 left in his pocket, aside from the lunch money he'd spent, belonged to Amy?

But now he only had $15 left. No way he was giving it all back.

Without the slightest intention of returning the money, Eric shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe you spent it yourself. Go check again."

"Eric!"

"Call me 'big brother.'"

"Big brother, my foot! You always bully girls! Mom, aren't you

 going to say anything?"

"…"

After a bit more back-and-forth, Amy eventually gave up, though she was clearly still upset.

Watching his sister, Eric couldn't help but feel amused and a little guilty. He had really bullied his little sister for just a bit of pocket money—how pitiful.

In the end, Eric promised her all sorts of future benefits until she finally let go of her grudge over the $20 he had "borrowed."

If he had pushed his luck a bit more, he probably could have taken the remaining $5 from her, too.

Once he had "settled" things with his sister, Eric went into the kitchen to greet his mother.

When he came back, only one thought dominated his mind: "Being poor sucks."

He had wanted to bring up the topic of Knight Academy with his mother, but thinking about how she made just $800 per shift and her monthly salary barely reached $3,200—roughly $10,000 a year—he just couldn't bring himself to ask.

"Money really is the root of all problems," Eric sighed.

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