The thing about first impressions is that in most cases, it is more powerful than fact. For a time.

You can tell me many things about a person, but if what you're telling me is contrary to my first impression of that person, you would have to spend a long time trying to convince me.

I might eventually be convinced if you are persistent enough and present enough evidence-supported facts to me. But it won't be easy. You would have an obstacle to overcome, and that obstacle is the powerful first impression of the person I had in my mind.

The point is, first impressions are extremely powerful.

The human mind 'thin-slices' and passes judgement over a person within the first few seconds, based on anything and everything it could sense.

It can be how a person looks, smells, sounds, feels, or in cases involving extreme situations, how a person tastes.

No, I won't elaborate how a person can make a first impression through taste. You figure it out on your own.

Anyway, a person would take input from all five senses and instantaneously compare it against his own pre-set associations about those inputs.

For example, if I love the smell of roses and it somehow reminded me of how an authoritative figure in my life used to smell, and then I meet a girl who smelled like roses, she would have garnered a huge amount of points in the first impression that she made on me. Plus, subconsciously, I would be more susceptible to her attempts to establish authority over me.

However, if I hate the smell of roses, then she would lose points instead of gaining points.

My first impression of Emma's grandfather, Defence Minister of the Chinese Federation, was incredibly powerful.

I regained consciousness and full access to my mental faculties almost at the same time. As before, there was absolutely no lethargy nor a haze of sleepiness in my mind. One moment I was out, and the next moment I was fully aware.

I opened my eyes and beheld a tastefully designed room in ancient Chinese decoration. My first breath upon waking up filled my nose and lungs with mildly sweet incense which was really... nice. The gentle sound of trickling water filled my ears.

A wave of weakness washed over my body at that moment, telling me that something was definitely wrong with me. But before I could think of much, an aged but powerful voice rang out from somewhere on my right.

"So. You're the young man who saved my granddaughter."

I whipped my head around in surprise and saw a tall and powerfully built old man in full military uniform, complete with his military cap and a huge bunch of colourful medals on his right chest.

His face was extremely wrinkled, and a pure white moustache and beard filled almost the entirety of his lower face. Light pockmarks also covered a portion of his cheeks. Everything about his face screamed "I am old! I am tired! And damn it I am too wrinkly by half!"

Everything, except his eyes.

His gaze was still steady and keen. I could totally sense the razor sharp intellect and cold-bloodedness that lurked behind his eyes.

He may have said that I was the young man that saved his granddaughter, but by God, the aura he was giving out was like someone who was about to execute a hated enemy.

All that, and the fact that my dad was a military man and raised me up to respect and revere the military, caused me to have an incredibly powerful first impression of Emma's grandfather.

That damned old man was totally just putting on a show! He was definitely trying to form an unforgettable first impression. He was, afterall, the one who taught me all about it.

He was actually nothing like that to his family. He was very gentle and kind to his kin, uproariously funny at times and rarely was he stern, especially to his grandkids. And being someone who just saved his beloved granddaughter whom he had spent almost the entirety of the previous year desperately searching for, I was definitely family.

But I didn't know that. All I knew was that a powerful old military man who literally slaughtered thousands of his enemies, and who was my childhood idol, was standing before me with a cold look on his very aged face and a cold, bloodthirsty aura rolling off his body in billows that was almost tangible.

What could I do? I replied in the only way I knew how, ingrained into the very fibre of my being by my own military family.

"YES SIR!" I shouted.

That damned old man nodded very seriously in approval of my response. His cold and bloodthirsty aura receded very significantly.

He picked up an electronic tab by my bedside and glanced at it.

I could swear right now that he was totally just pretending to read it. Knowing him, he had probably memorized everything on that tab by heart within the first few seconds of reading it a few hours prior.

"Hmmm. How are you feeling, Justin?" He asked as he sat down on a chair that was perfectly placed by my bedside to have a conversation with me.

"I feel fine, sir!" I replied instantly. At that moment, I glanced down at my right arm and sighed. It was gone. Still, I was alive, and that was the most important thing.

He nodded once more and placed the electronic tab on my bedside table.

"That's good. You had lost a lot of blood by the time we found you, and you were very close to death. I am glad that we were able to save you. It would be poor justice if we failed to save the person who saved my precious Emma." He said seriously.

"Thank you, sir!" I replied once more.

"Tell me about yourself, Justin." He said as he settled down on his chair. It was a cushioned chair but with hard leather which was perfect for old and tired backs.

"I... " Where do I even start? I wondered.

"I am a junkyard scrapper." I decided to start with the present. "I've been a junkyard scrapper for a few years now, ever since.. My father was killed."

He nodded at me encouragingly upon hearing that. His cold and bloodthirsty aura had disappeared completely by that time, and was somehow replaced by a gentle and grandfatherly aura which soothed me to no end.

That old man was a really nice person. Well, at least he was to me. To his enemies? Not so much.historical

"I never knew my mother, and my father was an orphan, so I had no family." I continued. "The person who killed my father, he dumped me at the junkyard, probably thinking that I would die. But I didn't. I lived on until now."

"I am assuming that your father was a military man?" He asked.

"Yes. My father was a Major in the Armed Forces of Han."

The old man raised his eyebrows slightly at that. Han was a small country in the West of the Chinese Federation which had broken away after the end of the third world war. The Chinese Federation had its eyes on Han for many years now, and still considered it part of their country.

"Interesting. Tell me, Justin. How did a 'junkyard scrapper' like you who was once the son of a Major of the.. extremely tiny and incompetent Han Military, manage to have a Resonance Purity Level of ninety two percent? And most importantly, how did you manage to save my granddaughter?"