HP: I Can Control Lightning!

Early July 1980, London, England

It was just past 8 p.m. when the dim lights flickered in a room at the Ellens Church Welfare Home.

"Oh, I can't take this anymore."

The teenager in the room gazed at his reflection in the wardrobe mirror, his hand absently rubbing his chin. Occasionally, he stretched his hand out, flexing his slender but well-defined fingers as if trying to catch something from the empty air.

Eleven years.

It had been eleven years since he arrived in this broken world, and yet, here he was—still stuck in an orphanage in the '80s, with no computer, no mobile phone. It was almost impossible to believe how he ended up here.

"Anduin, boss, what do you need..." Before the teenager could finish his thought, a loud knock on the door startled him.

"What are you yelling about? Aren't you afraid someone will hear you at this hour?" Anduin opened the door, frowning.

"Ah, sorry! Just tired from carrying this big box, hehe..." A boy, looking around sixteen or seventeen, stood at the door. His shirt and pants were neatly pressed, with suspenders that fit him well, though his hair was slightly disheveled.

The boy who brought the box to Anduin was named William. A few years older than Anduin, he was also one of the orphans at the welfare home.

"Why're you so late? The guys from the North District haven't come back to bother you again, have they?" Anduin asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

"No, no. Ever since you taught those punks a lesson last time, no one's dared mess with us. The guys have been celebrating today, so I got delayed. Here, this is our share for the week." William pulled a few banknotes from his pocket and handed them to Anduin.

Anduin took the money without a word, his face impassive. "Thanks, you've done well today."

He was about to open the box when he noticed William was still standing there, awkwardly laughing and rubbing his hands.

"What's the matter? Still need more practice?"

"Well, since it's still early, we just want to relax a bit..." William began, but Anduin quickly interrupted him.

"Ah, you want to play mahjong, right?" Anduin said, his voice dry. He walked over to the bedside, reached under the bed, and pulled out a wooden box. "Fine, play all you want, but no gambling, alright? Last time, Mama got really mad and confiscated your stuff."

"Got it, don't worry, I'll return it in two days." William grabbed the box eagerly and rushed out of the room.

Anduin shook his head helplessly as the door clicked shut.

"Great, it's crazy again. I wonder if teaching them mahjong was a mistake..." he muttered to himself, before turning back to the box William had brought.

With a satisfied grin, he opened it.

"Soy sauce, sesame oil, vinegar, cooking wine—haven't seen my friends for ages. No phone, no computer, and stuck eating British food every day... Ugh, I think I'm going to throw up."

Inside the box was exactly what Anduin had asked William to pick up from Chinatown—much-needed seasoning that had been hard to find.

When Anduin Wilson arrived in this world, he wasn't sure if he'd been reincarnated or transmigrated. All he knew was that in his previous life, he'd been a soldier with an unbreakable will, which helped him stay calm and think through everything.

Whether this world was a version of the one he knew didn't matter—he'd learned to adapt. He'd grown up with memories and experiences, so he wasn't about to be hypocritical.

The orphanage Anduin lived in was under the church's jurisdiction, and William and the others had grown up there too. William was a few years older, but they all listened to Anduin. Why? Because they had to.

Anduin's military background and passion for martial arts gave him the edge. Since he was young, he'd focused heavily on physical training—something that came naturally to him from his previous life. By the time Anduin was nine, he'd already used his strength to unite the entire orphanage, earning respect from the others. William and his crew had even started a small business under Anduin's guidance.

"If I keep this up, I might just end up running a gang. It feels like I'm collecting protection money every day." Anduin laughed bitterly, then dismissed the thought. He put the seasoning away and decided to treat himself to some homemade Chinese food in the kitchen when he had a chance.

He locked his room door out of habit, as there was something about his new life in this world that no one knew.

Anduin had superpowers.

He glanced over at the 20-kilogram dumbbell sitting in the corner of the room. With a subtle motion of his hand, the dumbbell suddenly floated into the air, suspended as if being guided by an invisible force.

He controlled it, lifting it higher until it hovered above him. Unbothered, Anduin walked over to his desk and opened a book, all the while keeping an eye on the floating weight.

This was Anduin's unique way of training his "superpowers," which he called his "time-lapse training."

At the age of seven or eight, Anduin had first realized something was different about him. After a workout, when he thought of drinking water, the glass had flown to him across the room.

It became clear that he wasn't like the other kids in the orphanage, so he kept his abilities hidden. If the church found out, they might label him a freak or worse.

Anduin called this special power his "superpower," and after careful testing and practice, he was able to master it slowly. He realized that martial arts training helped him control this power better. It seemed that when he was in a calm, focused state, he could wield this power more effectively.

Since then, Anduin had been incredibly disciplined, creating a strict training routine. Martial arts, meditation, and daily practice with his "superpowers" became his life. He'd even begun training with weights to enhance his control.

It wasn't perfect yet, but he was getting closer to mastering it. He could feel it—the power was there, just waiting to be fully unlocked.

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