If right now, Ethan Foster really had to rely on this profession to support his family and make a living... then he’d be totally screwed.

　　[Maybe I should consider going to a construction site to move bricks?]

　　Ethan Foster lightly clenched his fist and looked at his muscular arm—before, he thought he’d just gotten fat after a nap, but actually, after losing three years of memory, he’d gotten a lot more robust.

　　With this level of strength, moving bricks shouldn’t be a problem, right?

　　Ethan Foster seriously considered the feasibility of this plan.

　　……

　　He washed up, got dressed, and then ate breakfast while scrolling on his phone.

　　Ethan Foster used the information on his phone to gradually piece together his “missing three years.”

　　At this moment, there were quite a few unread messages in his chat apps.

　　Most of the unread messages were from group chats.

　　For example, the “One Big Happy Family” group that everyone probably has on their phone, and his own family’s small group, “The Old Xu Family.”

　　He also had a pinned group called “Chengjiang University’s Six Swordsmen,” which included his college dorm mates: Henry Clark, William Bolton, Grace Howard, Emily Carter, and David Bolton.

　　The group was always lively.

　　Looking at the six friends he’d just slept in the same dorm with last night, now scattered all over the country, Ethan Foster felt complicated.

　　He opened the group chat, thought for a moment, and typed a message: “Brothers, do you believe in time travel?”

　　“Pfft~ Old Xu, you’ve only been married a few years and you already want to play with time travel? Are you trying to go back to being single?” William Bolton replied with a laugh.

　　“Time travel?” Grace Howard teased back: “Hahaha, then Old Xu, do you believe in cultivating immortality?”

　　Ethan Foster: “……”

　　Alright, time travel does sound a bit too far-fetched.

　　Maybe it’s better to just talk about the more realistic topic of “three years of amnesia”?

Chapter 4 Brian Grant

　　At this moment, William Bolton spoke up in the group: “Whenever you guys mention time travel, I think of Henry Clark. He hasn’t shown up for over half a year, right? Who knows what he’s up to? I’m starting to suspect he really did time travel…”

　　David Bolton: “I think I know where his house is. I visited back in junior year. Next time I’m on a business trip passing through Dazhong City, I’ll drop by and check on him.”

　　“Alright, we’ll leave this to you, the one who’s been in and out three times.” Grace Howard agreed.

　　David Bolton was the reliable type in the dorm; everyone trusted him to handle things.

　　“+1” Ethan Foster, lacking nearly three years of memories, didn’t dare to chime in too much, trying to make himself as invisible as possible, at most quietly sending a sweet little +1.

　　After chatting for a while, the college dorm group quieted down for the time being.

　　Ethan Foster had wanted to talk about the “three years of amnesia,” but couldn’t find a good opening, so he had to give up for now.

　　He propped his chin on his hand, tapped his phone again, and returned to the main chat interface.

　　Besides the group chat records, there was also a friend with a “rice field” avatar who had sent him more than a dozen messages in a row.

　　The nickname on the avatar was... Mason Reed.

　　“Mason Reed?” Ethan Foster felt a strange sense of panic when he saw this nickname.

　　This panic came from the instinctive reaction of a chronic procrastinator who can’t turn in drafts.

　　“Could this be the same ‘Mason Reed’ who often calls me from my contacts?”

　　He opened the chat... and his guess was right.

　　But this time, the messages weren’t about “comics.”

　　The messages were left yesterday.

　　Mason Reed: “Brian Grant laoshi, the batch of mechanical parts you asked me about—my cousin happens to have them in stock. I’ve already placed the order for you... They might arrive tomorrow, so remember to sign for them and leave a good review, Brian Grant laoshi.”

　　Attached to the message were more than a dozen pictures, all of strange “mechanical parts” that ordinary people wouldn’t recognize.

　　Ethan Foster stared at the message.

　　Brian Grant laoshi?

　　How hopeless would I have to be to pick a pen name like “Brian Grant”?

　　Also... since when do comic editors double as online shopping customer service? She even helps me order and ship things? That’s so considerate?

　　And why did I order these mechanical parts?

　　What am I doing with them?

　　Building Transformers?

　　His mind was once again full of question marks.

　　Today, the question marks in his head were especially busy.

　　……

　　Although he was completely confused, out of politeness, Ethan Foster still replied to “Mason Reed”: “Okay, thank you.”

　　“You’re welcome, so Brian Grant laoshi, in the future, anything your wife needs to buy, just let me know. I’ll gather all these parts and send them to you. Anyway, don’t waste your time buying these mechanical parts yourself. [smile emoji]” At this hour, Mason Reed was at work and replied immediately.

　　Ethan Foster held his chopsticks, looking at the reply.

　　So these mechanical parts weren’t for him, but for his wife?

　　He looked up at the enlarged wedding photo in the living room, at the woman with the gentle smile.

　　Her job is related to this?

　　Honestly, mixing her art style with a mechanical vibe... unexpectedly, it’s kind of cool!