I can evolve everything

Raindrops pattered against the windowpane, gathering into streams that meandered down, blurring the street scene outside.

The room was quiet, with only the occasional crackling of sparks from the still-burning charcoal in the fireplace.

Renn lay in bed, his consciousness pulled back to reality by a dull pain.

With each breath, the right ribs felt like two pieces of waterlogged wood squeezing and rubbing against each other.

He opened his eyes, and what came into view was the still unfamiliar ceiling.

"hiss--"

He tried to turn over, but the sharp pain in his ribs made him gasp for breath, and his movement froze instantly.

The remaining memories of this body are still colliding in my mind, gradually piecing together a complete memory.

Just then, with a creak, the door was gently pushed open.

An elderly man with gray hair walked in carrying a tray. He looked to be at least seventy years old, but his steps were quite steady.

Rein paused for a moment before recognizing him from his jumbled memories—Fitz, the loyal old servant of the Wilder family.

"Young Master Renn, you're awake." Fitz's voice was hoarse, and he seemed quite concerned about Renn. "Madam asked me to bring you breakfast and some freshly applied medicine for your wounds."

He carefully placed the tray on the low cabinet by the bedside.

On the tray was a piece of white bread spread with honey, a few slices of smoked meat, and a small glass of milk.

This was exactly the same as the meals the original owner of the body ate on a regular basis, as he remembered.

"That butcher's son, he's really ruthless," Fitz said, unscrewing a brown earthenware jar.

As he unscrewed the earthenware jar, a pleasant fragrance of various herbs wafted out.

"The master was furious about this. If it weren't for the governor's strict order forbidding private fights before the selection, he would have had the guards secretly bury those bastards behind the town long ago."

Raine didn't speak, his gaze fixed on the tray on the bedside table, as if he was thinking about something.

It has been more than a day since I arrived in this place called Graystone Town.

He was just an ordinary employee burning the midnight oil for project reports and performance targets. That night, he was working overtime and writing a report all night long when suddenly his head went black and his vision went completely dark.

When he opened his eyes again, he was the second son of Linus Wilder, the sheriff of Graystone and a knight.

The original owner was a complete bastard.

His memory told him that the injuries were inflicted three days ago at the Black Pig Tavern in town.

The cause was ridiculously absurd. Just for a seat at a gambling table, the original owner of this body, relying on his status, verbally abused the butcher's son, who was also a notorious gang leader in the town, and then struck first.

The result was self-evident: the other side had the numbers and the advantage, and after a group fight, the original owner was dragged back home.

The life force of that young body thus came to an end, in exchange for his soul from a foreign land.

The reason why the original owner's father, Sheriff Linus, did not immediately go after the butcher was not because he was particularly magnanimous or indifferent to his second son, but because the original owner was the one who provoked him.

In aristocratic circles that value honor and rules, standing up for such an unseemly brawl would only bring further shame upon the Wilder family.

"Where did this ointment come from, Fitz?" Renn suddenly asked, his voice dry from lack of fluids after a nap.

Fitz paused, turning his gaze to Ryan, seemingly surprised. The second young master he knew would never concern himself with such trivial matters.

"It's from the Gulf Chamber of Commerce, three silver coins for a small jar. The master said that your health cannot be compromised, especially at this critical juncture."

"Please thank my father for me," Ryan said calmly.

Fitz's expression became even stranger.

He stopped what he was doing and stared intently at the boy on the bed.

Young Master Renn seemed different today. At least, this was the first time he had heard Young Master Renn say thank you since he was five years old.

"Young Master Renn," Fitz hesitated for a moment, then lowered his voice, deciding to steer the conversation back on track, "regarding the apprentice knight selection in a month—"

Renn's heart sank to the bottom.

This is precisely the imminent crisis left behind by the original owner in her memory.

The original owner was a good-for-nothing playboy who bullied others in town by relying on his father's name.

However, two years ago, after getting drunk, he boasted in front of all his family members that he would definitely pass the next apprentice knight selection and bring glory to the Wilder family.

At that time, the original owner's father almost genuinely believed that Raine wanted to reform.

For this vague promise, Sheriff Linus used almost all the connections and money he had accumulated in his life to pull strings and barely managed to secure a pre-selected spot for him through internal operations.

However, there is one strict requirement in this selection of apprentice knights that no one can be exempted from—to resist a fully armed official knight for at least one minute.

Fitz's voice lowered further, and the palpable melancholy in his eyes remained unwavering:

"The master has been working hard for you for a long time and has sent many gifts. But this year, Sir Karen will be in charge of the final practical assessment."

Sir Karen, Ryan had some recollection of this person.

A die-hard who adheres to the so-called ancient chivalric code, rigid, stubborn, and intolerant of any injustice; a true old fogey.

"Did he refuse his father's gift?" Ryan couldn't help but ask.

"No." Fitz shook his head, his wrinkles crinkling together.

"Sir Karen returned untouched and even escorted the master out. He said that the honor of the Wilder family could not be tarnished, and he could not tolerate a good-for-nothing who could not even hold a sword properly becoming a novice knight. That would be an insult to the name of knighthood."

The old servant paused, then added:

"However, he still considered his relationship with the master to some extent. Out of consideration for the fact that the master and he had once been comrades-in-arms, he promised to only use the back of the sword to attack during the assessment and to go easy on him appropriately. But the bottom line is that you must stand under him for a full minute, just like the other candidates for the apprentice knight selection."

Even if a professional rider is holding back, he cannot fall down for even a minute.

This was not a difficult task for a nobleman's son who had been trained since childhood and had some knowledge of swordsmanship.

But this is a pipe dream for this body now.

At that time, not only will the original owner's boastful claims be ruthlessly exposed, but the entire Wilder family will become a laughing stock in the high society of Graystone Town.

His knight father, who valued honor above all else, would probably be greatly disappointed and might even break his leg himself.

"I understand, Fitz," Ryan interrupted him, though he had no idea what to do at the moment, he tried to keep his tone calm. "I'll handle it."

Fitz opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he just sighed softly.

He quietly tidied up the tray, bowed, and left.

The room fell silent again, with only the sound of rain outside the window.

Ryan leaned against the headboard, calmly analyzing the current situation.

The injuries on my body are just superficial wounds, and I can recover most of them after a few days of rest, but that's not the key point.

The key point is that this body's combat ability is not nonexistent, but at most it is only slightly stronger than that of an average young person, which can be said to be better than nothing.

For Renn to go from a complete novice to someone who could last a minute against a professional knight in just one month is nothing short of a pipe dream.

We must find a way to break the deadlock.

Just as Renn was staring blankly at the smoked meat on the tray, lost in thought, something incomprehensible seemed to happen before his eyes.

The world around me suddenly darkened, and the sound of rain outside the window was stretched out, distorted, and finally mixed into a buzzing sound.

An indescribable feeling instantly gripped him, as if his soul had been forcibly pulled from his body by an invisible hand.

Am I going crazy? A side effect of time travel?

No, that's not right.

In his field of vision, only the outline of the breakfast plate remained clear.

The shape of those slices of smoked meat began to change under his gaze; the caramelized color of the edges slowly faded, revealing the tender pink fat texture.

Immediately afterwards, rows of strange characters appeared out of thin air before his eyes.

Smoked meat

[Wild boar hind leg meat, seasoned with sea salt and a small amount of spices.]

[Characteristics: Provides calories, oily texture.]

After a series of basic information, the shape of the smoked meat begins to change again.

[Evolutionary branch: Smoked meat that tells corny jokes.]

[Description: By reconstructing the structure of fats and proteins, they are made to produce indistinct syllables similar to human speech when chewed due to fiber breakage; the content is mostly outdated, lame jokes.]

Ryan's expression froze.

Smoked meat that tells corny jokes? What is this?

Ryan tried his best to imagine the scene: a piece of meat telling lame jokes in someone's mouth—the scene was somewhat bizarre.

Before he could recover from this absurd information, another series of messages came into his view.

[Has the evolutionary direction been confirmed?]

[Required Resources: Smoked Meat x1, Energy Reserves (7 days' worth)]

[Time required: 15 days.]

Renn was completely stunned.

Conserve your energy? Conserve your time?

Raine seemed to understand something.

This must be the cheat code that brought him here from another time.

A cheat code that can make smoked meat learn to tell corny jokes?

He did not immediately confirm.

This so-called "evolution" requires a considerable amount of his energy and takes a long time.

He looked away and turned his gaze to the knife on the plate, the one used for cutting meat.

[Dinner knife]

This is crafted from ordinary iron ore and can only be used to cut soft meat.

【Characteristics: Poor cutting ability, requires considerable effort to wield.】

The message flashed, and a new branch appeared.

[Evolutionary branch: A safety knife that will absolutely not cut your hand.]

[Description: Through mystical modifications, the blade automatically avoids any living tissue, making it an absolutely safe piece of utensil. Note: Ineffective against undead creatures.]

[Required Resources: Dinner knife (x1), Energy Reserves (10 days' worth)]

[Time required: 10 days.]