Tyrant's return: Reborn as a Good-For-Nothing Young Master

After two full days inside the dungeon, Fenrir finally decided it was time to leave.

His body had absorbed as much as it could from the mysterious pond, and he had already slain every creature within the dungeon that dared to get in his way.

But more than that, something deep inside him stirred—an instinctual tug in his gut, as if the dungeon had started to resent his presence.

'Time to go'

He thought grimly.

Fenrir never ignored his instincts.

They had kept him alive in his previous life, and they were sharper than ever in this one.

He took one last look at the now-still water and the cave he had used as shelter before exiting the dungeon.

By the time he returned to the city and stepped out into the warm light of the early morning, Fenrir's body felt tighter, leaner, and significantly stronger than when he had entered.

Even the heavy pressure of the outside world felt easier to manage.

But as he walked up to his apartment building, his mood instantly soured.