Writing this chapter, I remembered several ents emphasizing the 'plot hole' that the MC does not question his sed ce. From before I began writing the novel, I had pnned for it to be a process of blind acceptanot a divine gift, not ROB, nothing—just something that happened.

  From the beginning, I phat all the growth outside the academic world of the character would occur in his sed ce. Let me expin:

  In the first chapter of the novel, I tried to make it clear that the protagonist has/had absolutely no social skills because he focused his entire life on studying medie. Since he has no memories of his sed life as "PJ" prior to the transmigration, he would learn from 'zero'. That decision, looking baight have been quite hasty, but to be ho, I don't think I would ge it.

  I feel quite disgusted having tue the following, because the idea of an adult man trying to rete interpersonally with minors would never, in real life, be acceptable under any circumstances. But (just writing that 'but' made me feel quite sick, like some Instagram pervert) the protagonist, being as inexperienced as he is, is basically a teenager with the knowledge (academid paiional) of an adult man. By fully accepting his new opportunity in life, he only has the option to grow to be a 'real' adult man like a normal teenager.

  I think the only thing, that differentiates my novel from that roup' of transmigration, isekai, etc., 'novels', where an adult trao the body of a teenager/child, is that my protagonist has no idea of how to 'take advantage' of his maturity in the social realm.

  I look forward to reading your ents about it. Without further ado.

  Enjoy.

  ---

  "So, three sets of keys for the VIP plus suite," when I arrived with my family, I heard the hotel manager, Mr. Mosby, say cheerfully. "If you need anything, calling zero is a direct lio the lobby. Again, we give you the warmest wele to the Tipton Hotel," he added, bowing slightly before returning to his workstation.

  "VIP plus?" With the keys in hand, Bob incredulously asked Dr. Thomas, who was there smiling happily.

  "Oh, it's just any suite," Dr. Thomas affirmed, obviously lying. "Wilfred assured me there's no problem," he said, patting Bob on the shoulder.

  "It sounds quite expensive; I don't want our stay to result in a signifit loss, especially at this time of year," Bob nervously said, still shaking the keys in his hand.

  "Not at all, the VIP plus is nowhere he best this hotel has to offer. As I said, it's just any suite," Dr. Thomas affirmed once more, and for some reason, lied again. "Bob, I assure you that your stay at this hotel, even if you lived here for the rest of your lives for free, would not affect Wilfred Tipton's profits at all," he decred fidently.

  "All right," Bob agreed after a moment of thinking about it, nodding stiffly.

  "Perfect, then Dun family, we'll see you in a couple of hours at Rosso's. We'll leave you to get fortable," Dr. Thomas said, hugging Dottie, who was smiling happily.

  After saying goodbye to the Thomases, we followed one of the hotel workers with a cart of gage up in one of the elevators to dozens of floors.

  "VIP plus," the hotel worker said with a professional smile, carefully pg the luggage on the floor.

  "Here you go, thank you very much," Bob said kindly, handing a bill to the man and dismissing him.

  With gage in hand behind Bob, we waited for the man to open the door.

  When Bob opehe suite door, he stood uhe frame, seemingly uo enter.

  "Bob, honey, what's wrong?" Mom asked worriedly, as the man was robust enough to block the view of everyoanding behind him.

  "This is not just any suite," Bob said nervously, finally entering the suite.

  The pce resembled the Thomas's house in a pact version; the decorations seen just in the living room of the apartment looked expensive enough to be afraid of walkihem.

  "Cool, I call this room," Gabe said, uned with any of the decorations, running with his luggage toward one of the bedrooms.

  "Obviously, that's my room; Mom and Dad have the main one, and you and PJ have the double," Teddy said, following Gabe, trying to match his speed.

  "If you fight with each other, you'll be punished for the two weeks," Mom said seriously, warning my two siblings.

  "My head hurts," Bob said carefully, taking a seat on an impossibly sofa.

  "Oh Bob, you heard Dottie and Dr. Thomas; it was a favor from the hotel owner, who is their personal friend. You don't have to worry about it. We're on vacation, enjoy it," Mom said lovingly, taking a seat o her husband.

  "Yeah Dad, it's a vacation; don't worry about this. You eve as Harvard recruiting," I joked, also taking a seat on the amazingly fortable couch.

  "Yeah," Bob said, chug. "Dr. Thomas really wants you to study with him."

  "Really?" I asked, pretending to be surprised. "I hadn't realized."

  "He just took a liking to you," Mom said, lightly tapping my shoulder and ughing. "It's sweet."

  "I know," I assured Mom. "If it bothers you that much, Dad, ay for the stay," I seriously remihe man. It wouldn't be a sound financial strategy; I still had several thousand dolrs in my at outside my iment portfolio, but it could be paid for.

  "Bah," Bob immediately dismissed my words, waving his haically. "Don't start with that; that's your money, and yoing to spend it on college first."

  "I'm sure I pay for the two weeks in this hotel and still afford my college, Teddy's, Gabe's, and the one's," I said, pointing to Mom's abdomen, amused.

  "No," Bob calmly said, closing his eyes. "It's fine; I'll just thank for the gift."

  "All right," Mom excimed cheerfully, standing up. "Let's anize gage so we officially start this vacation," she tinued, pulling Bob up to stand.

  Bob, carrying Mom's and his own luggage, started walking behind his wife toward the main room of the suite. "We're on the East Coast; I o look for the Gypsy Moth and the Longhorle," Bob said, fetting his about the hotel's prid gettied.

  "That sounds amazing, honey," Mom said, not really paying attention to what Bob was saying. She stopped a few steps away from the room where Gabe and Teddy were arguing, apparently about the room itself. "Gabe, let your sister anize her room, and yanize yours with PJ."

  "Mom," Gabe's frustrated voice was heard from the room where my siblings were arguing, while Teddy was mog him.

  "You heard me," Mom ordered, annoyed, with authority in her voice. "PJ, what kind of restaurant are we going to? Dr. Thomas didn't expin anything."

  "It's where they took me st time, Rosso's. It's Italian and fancy," I expined.

  "I see. Teddy! Did y a nice dress? We're going to a fancy restaurant," Mom shouted, immediately receiving aed squeal from Teddy, who agreed right away. "Help your brother choose good clothes, please," Mom said to me with a smile, while walking to her own room and closing the door behind her.

  "What is 'good clothes'?" I asked no one in particur, as I was alone again.

  Taking my luggage, I ehe room Gabe and I would share for the rest of our days in Boston. Like the rest of the suite, it was elegant and spacious, even with a private bathroom. "I chose that bed," Gabe said from the spacious closet while carelessly arranging his clothes, pointing to the bed closest to the window.

  "Fine by me," I assured the boy, pg my suitcase oher bed to unpafortably. "Ah, use that shirt and some more formal pants," I said, seeing the clothes my brother was awkwardly trying to hang.

  "What? Why?" Gabe asked, puzzled, looking at the garment.

  "We're going to have dinner with the Thomases. Mom wants you to be formal, or she'll give you away to another family," I warned, jokingly. "Also, take a bath; you stink," I said, theatrically c my nose.

  Sniffing his armpits, Gabe frowned. "That's not true, you stink," he said. "If you go back to yirlfriend at the store, she'll vomit," he added desdingly, smiling.

  "Oh, really?" I asked, quickly grabbing the boy and hugging him under one of my arms to keep him from esg. "Say it again, I didn't hear you well the first time," I pyfully ordered, keeping his head under my armpit.

  "No," Gabe excimed, trying to free himself from me.

  "e on, I won't let you go until you repeat it," I arrogantly said, lightly rubbing his head.

  "Okay, you smell good. It was a joke, it was a joke," Gabe said desperately, pushing my torso as soon as his head was free. "One day I'll grow up, and you'll be the one under my arm," he threatened, frowning.

  "No matter how much you grow, it's a universal w that you'll never beat me," I procimed theatrically, raising my arms as if I were a vilin from the cartoons Gabe used to watch.

  Gabe, starting before me and doing it carelessly, finished much earlier anizing his se of the closet. "Are you

  still not done, old man?" Gabe sarcastically asked, ing out of the bathroom ed in his towel.

  "Old man?" I asked, taking off my shirt while the boy just smirked. "Your head is still wet, kiddo," I said, throwing my freshly removed shirt at his head, amused to see him quickly remove the garment.

  "Eww, gross," Gabe excimed, quickly throwing my shirt on the floor in disgust, shaking his still-wet hair.

  "Get ready fast, I'm going to take a bath," I said, entering the bathroom, ign his incredulous expression.

  Several mier, the rest of my family was ready to leave. "I like that shirt, you should wear it more often," Mom said, adjusting one of the sleeves while cheg the outfit Gabe and I had chosen.

  The shirt I was wearing art of the clothes I had bought so many months ago at the Medford mall. Thanks to the stant exercise apanied by the diet Case had pnned for me, I could feel how it pressed against my arms and chest, fortunately not enough to be unfortable.

  "I o buy new clothes," I said, slightly stretg my arms and feeling the fabric resist a bit.

  "Yes, now that you mention it, it's a bit tight," Mom said, stepping back a few steps and studying the shirt.

  "That, or PJ just got bigger," Bob added pyfully, squeezing my shoulder proudly.

  "I think it looks good," Mom ented, forcibly fixing Gabe's hair, "Everyoake your coats," she added, giving o quispe to everyone befrabbing her own coat and walking out of the suite.

  Ba the hotel lobby, Mom and Bob approached the reception to request transportation to Rosso's.

  At that moment, from one of the hallways on the side of the hotel lobby, Maddie, the store clerk, now without her uniform, was carrying a backpack, once again distracted, this time reading a small notebook. "Hey, is it your time to leave?" I said, leaning slightly to get her attention.

  Lifting her eyes from the notebook, pletely surprised, she said, "Hi," quickly l her notebook again and smiling. "Ye- yeah, it's my time to leave," a couple of seds after greeting me, apparently remembering my question, she finally responded, slightly embarrassed.

  "Too bad, I nning to buy more chocote," I said pyfully, smiling.

  "For someone who buys so much chocote, it sure looks like you do it," she said sarcastically, pointing at my body.

  "Wow!" I excimed, crossing my arms in front of my chest, pretending to be offended, "For your information, I think my favorite drink is ilkshakes."

  "ilkshakes, really?" Maddie asked, ughing in plete disbelief.

  "What? They're great," I defended myself, this time genuinely a little offended.

  "All right, they're great," Maddie admitted, still smiling and rolling her eyes. "You know, I know a great pce that serves ilkshakes not far from here," she said a moment ter, avoiding looking at me, a bit nervous.

  "That sounds pretty good," I said, making the girl immediately lift her head, "but I'm going to have dinner with my family. Maybe another day?" I added quickly.

  "Oh yeah, that sounds pretty good," Maddie said, imitating my words from a moment ago, amused.

  "PJ," at that moment, Mom, who was at the hotel door, shamelessly shouted, "the car is here," while the hotel manager, Mr. Mosby if I remembered correctly, helped her put on her coat.

  Walking out of the hotel apanied by Maddie, who was already leaving, I found Mom getting into a luxurious car, apparently owned by the hotel, with Bob's help. "So, see you ter," I said slowly, smiling at the now strangely paralyzed Maddie, who was staring at the car.

  "Oh, yeah sure," Maddie quickly regained her posure, nodding stiffly, "see you ter," she added quickly, nodding before walking swiftly in the opposite dire.

  "All right," I said to no one in particur, puzzled by the girl's sudden ge in attitude.

  "Allow me," the same bellboy who had received us when we arrived said, opening the door as I approached the car.

  "Thanks, Esteban," I said, reading his name on a badge on his chest as I got into the car's back seat.

  "Who was she?" Mom asked, pretending to be pletely ued as soon as I got into the car.

  "She's the store clerk from the hotel. She was reading a book when we arrived, and PJ flirted with her," Gabe responded immediately, smiling on Mom's p before I could say anything.

  "She's cute," Mom said approvingly. "Are you pnning to go out with her somewhere?" she asked again, pretending not to care about the answer, causing a slight headache to resurface.

  "Does the hotel have its own transportation service?" I asked, trying to ge the subject.

  "The Tipton hotel's transportation is a special service for VIP guests," the driver, who had previously been having a versation with Bob, responded kindly.

  "So, what's her name?" Mom asked, ign the man's response, which would usually have been enough to get her attention.

  The ride to the restaurant was full of questions to which I holy had no answer. Even Teddy, who had apparently only brought a roll of film to the dinner and didn't want to waste it, asked her owions.

  "We've arrived, Dun family," the driver, who had been talking with Bob about sports a city events throughout the ride, finally said, parking the car in front of the restaurant I had visited st time.

  "Thanks, Marcus," Bob said, leaning out the open passenger window and the driver, Marcus, a bill as a tip.

  "You're wele, Mr. Dun. Do you need me to wait outside the restaurant?" the man asked, gratefully accepting the bill.

  "No need, we take a taxi back. Thank you very much," Bob assured the driver, who nodded professionally, started the car once more, and drove off in the dire we came from. "I feel ie," Bob murmured sarcastically, shaking his shoulders.

  I could uand what he meant; all the special treatme pletely out of sync.

  As we all ehe luxurious restaurant together, I could see in the expressions of the other members of my family, except fabe, what must have been my face the first time I ehe pce. Yes, I uood pletely.

  "How about the Thomas table?" I hesitantly asked the same woman who had worked the day I visited the pce with the Thomases behind the small ter in the restaurant's lobby.

  "Oh, you must be the Duns. Yes, the doctor and the doctor are waiting for you. This lease," she said, once again pig up menus from her small ter and guiding us into the restaurant.

  Mom, not ting Gabe, was the first in my family to snap out of the trance caused by the restaurant's decoration and presence. As was typiy mother, she began to roudly, obviously excited to be in such a pce.

  "Dun family," when roached one of the tables near one of the restaurant's walls, long enough to aodate all of us, Dr. Thomas, ith Dottie, stood up excitedly, opening his arms.

  "e here, sweetheart," Dottie immediately took my sister's arm carefully and sat her o her after greeting everyone, immediately engaging in a versation with Teddy.

  "So, have you heard anything from any uies sihe article ublished?" Dr. Thomas asked, incredibly in the same tone Mom used for her 'disied' questions while reading one of the menus.

  "Oh, just from East Texas Tech," Mom responded without finding anything strange in Dr. Thomas's question, causing the man to cough suddenly.

  "They basically invited PJ as a visiting student. He has all the privileges but isn't formally in any program," Bob expined, uanding Dr. Thomas's i.

  "Oh, I see," Dr. Thomas said cheerfully, "if you lived here in Boston, PJ would have the same treatment at Harvard," he insinuated, g his hands in front of his face, immediately receiving a pun the shoulder from Dottie.

  "Stop pestering PJ," the older woman scolded him seriously. "You're not a recruiter," she reminded him as if they had already discussed it, making Dr. Thomas lower his head slightly, embarrassed.

  "It's okay, we uand perfectly," Mom said, amused, assuring Dottie, "Dr. Thomas is just looking out for PJ's future."

  "You see, hohey uand," Dr. Thomas said pyfully, smiling arrogantly at his wife, an a for which he earned another un the shoulder.

  "Do my eyes deceive me?" suddenly, from behind us, the voice I immediately reized as the restaurant owner's resounded loudly in the pce, "PJ," Alessandro said joyfully, approag our table with open arms.

  Seeing the robust restaurant owner approag, I could only prepare for what was about to happen as I stood up to greet the noisy man.

  "Wele bay humble restaurant," the excited man said, squeezing my shoulders tightly and pressing his lips twi the sides of my face. "Who are these people?" he asked cheerfully, patting my shoulder.

  "This is my family," I said, looking at my family's incredulous faces, Gabe's in particur. "My father, Bob Dun, my mom, Amy, and my siblings, Teddy and Gabe," I said, pointing to each member.

  "Oh, the Dun family, of course. e here," he said, repeating the extravagant greeting with Bob, tousling Gabe's hair, while with Mom and Teddy, he simply kissed the back of their hands, an aom obviously accepted, fttered.

  After his extravagant introdu to the rest of my family, Alessandro, being the plete extrovert he was, chatted briefly with Mom and Bob, mainly about my as during my st visit and the article published in the neer.

  "Absolutely a hero, it's no surprise at all that he's reized," the restaurant owner excimed joyfully, seemingly uo trol the volume of his voice, drawing even more attention from the other ers.

  "That's our PJ for you," Mom said proudly, matg the man's energy.

  "To celebrate my friend PJ's rise to fame, the bill will be on the house," Alessandro decred nontly, patting my shoulder. "Order whatever you want, it's all on the house," he tinued, shaking Bob's hand again. "I have to leave, but don't hesitate to call if you need anything," he added, bidding everyone farewell before leaving.

  Fame? I wasn't famous.

  "For the sed time in a single month, PJ is treating us to dinner," Dr. Thomas said, amused.

  The dinner tinued, and like st time, the food was absolutely delicious.

  After bidding farewell to Alessandro and thanking him for the meal, we left the restaurant.

  Teddy, who seemed to have grown fond of Dottie, who clearly shared the se with my sister, was happily chatting with the older woman about her life.

  Gabe, who had brought his little video game sole, was still pying, pletely absorbed in the mae, being guided by Bob who simply moved the child's head to prevent him from bumping into anything on the way.

  Mom was exhausted and uandably so, walking alongside Bob, using him for support.

  "You have something on your mind," Dr. Thomas, who was behind the main group, calmly stated.

  "What?" I asked, puzzled.

  "When I asked you how things were with Gregory, you had difficulty responding," he expined, his hands in his pockets, looking at the now dark street.

  "It's fine, really," I uionally sighed for a sed as I replied.

  "You know, from the moment I decided you would be one of my 'protégés,' I knew I would do anything to help you bee a better you," he admitted slowly, smiling at the iioween my sister and his wife. "And part of that is listening to you, and if my experience helps, advising you. I'm a very old man; I have a lot of experieake advantage of it," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

  "I'm afraid I made a bad decision in the care of a patient," I said after a deep sigh, prompting Dr. Thomas to nod slightly, silently invitio eborate.

  Giving Dr. Thomas a quick summary of Sister Augustine's case, I expined my decision to attack the woman's feelings and beliefs to get the truth.

  "So, basically, you're afraid of being Gregory," he said with a smile after I finished expining.

  "Well, yeah," thinking it over, that was essentially correct.

  "Go ahead, PJ and I are going to talk a bit; we'll catch a taxi to the hotel," Dr. Thomas said to the rest of the group, as the valet had already brought the Thomases' car around to take us to the hotel.

  With some doubt on their faces, my parents got into the Thomases' car a moment before it departed towards the hotel.

  "Let's walk a bit, PJ. I'm old but I still move my legs," he said sarcastically, winking as he walked through the beautifully decorated streets of Boston.

  "When Gregory was my student," Dr. Thomas finally said after a few minutes of fortable silence, "he had a problem simir to yours, but pletely opposite," he added, amused.

  "Yes, I imagine," I nodded, amused.

  "Gregory House, like you, rodigy in medie. He uood it, and still does, like no one else I've ever seen—at least until a couple of months ago when I received your letter," Dr. Thomas said, smiliionally.

  "It's just book knowledge," I said, a bit embarrassed by his words.

  "I'm not talking about that, no. Your research work was impeccable, yes, but in every letter, I could read someone in love with medie, eager to learn, and willing to fail while trying. That, that is uanding medie," he said, pointing at me with a wide smile.

  After his words, we walked in silence for several seds.

  "Gregory, with his incredible ability to uand medie, fot another essential part of being a doctor: humaion," he tiheatrically. "He saw every patient as a list of sequences and symptoms to treat, and it reached a point where it was terproductive for him, so he decided to ge his approach. He no longer focused solely on the hard data representing the patient. He uood that certaiions also affected the oute of a diagnosis: anger, shame, sadness, and above all, fear. As with everything in medie, he uood it almost immediately and discovered that all these emotions, in one way or another, always lead to the same thing," he said, raising a finger.

  "Lies," I said, uanding where Dr. Thomas was going with his narrative.

  "Lies," Dr. Thomas nodded, repeating. "Sihen, his method has worked. 'Everybody lies,' he told me when he solved a difficult case we were dealing with," Dr. Thomas said, smiling sadly, surely reminisg. "At that moment, I told him something that I'm going to tell you," he added cryptically, stopping for a moment.

  Stoppio him, I seriously waited for his words.

  "Mark Twain once said that the two most important days in a person's life are the day they are born and the day they find out why," he said seriously. "You, PJ, have already gohrough those two days," pointing at my chest, he affirmed. "You know you were born to be a doctor. Now, how will you build your life to reach that point?" he said, starting to walk again.

  "Did you tell House this?" I asked after a few minutes, finally processing Dr. Thomas's words.

  "There's more, but now what I'm going to tell you will be different. Back then, I was wrong," he said, smiling proudly.

  "Wrong?" I asked, puzzled, not by the idea of the doctor admitting he was wrong, but by how proud he was to say it.

  "I told you, older, more experienced," Dr. Thomas expined arrogantly, smiling. "What builds us throughout life are the decisions we make, and we must be absolutely sure to make those decisions before making them, or we might regret it. That's what I told Gregory. Now I know it was inplete."

  After passing a group of buildings, we came across a park. Taking advantage of a bench, Dr. Thomas sat down, seemingly a bit tired from walking.

  A few seds after sitting down, small snowfkes began to fall from the sky. "What builds us throughout life are the decisions we make," he said, nodding fidently, "but above all, the reasons we make them. Maybe you made a 'bad' decision in hurting your patient," he said with apparent indifference, "but at the end of the day, the reason you made that decision in your heart was entirely for your patient's well-being."

  As more snow fell, painting the park white, I could feel my eyes slightly welling up with tears.

  "You will always enter difficult decisions in our line of work," he tinued, leaning ba the bench, avoiding looking at my face, obviously trying to give me space. "But if you make those decisions with a good reason in your heart, you don't have to questioher what you did was right . It was simply a decision."

  We spent several moments sitting in the snow on the park bench. "My butt is freezing," Dr. Thomas suddenly joked, taking me by surprise and making me ugh untrolbly. "Bah, you ugh but it's true. Help me up, I'm old," he said, pretending to be annoyed, ughing with me.

  "Thank you, doctor," I said after helping him to his feet as we tinued walking through the park that I nnized. We had walked all the way from the restaurant to the park in front of the hotel.

  "I told you, you're my protégé," Dr. Thomas said, puffing out his chest with pride. "By the way, you still have to be absolutely sure before making any decision. Reason and logic are the only things that separate us from animals. Use them."

  ---

  Author Thoughts:

  As always, I'm not Ameri, not a doctor, and not a fighter.

  I hope you don't think PJ's moral dilemma in making difficult decisions is solved. I have many more things phat will test the character, so stay tuned.

  With that said,

  I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

  Thank you for reading! :D

  PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.