CLASS C – THE THRONE OF BODIES
Sharky stood before Midas, arms crossed, his gaze red, burning. The crowd held its breath. Midas's men, on the ground, formed a macabre platform.
"Society is currently in the midst of change," said Midas.
His voice, calm, almost soft, contrasted with the tension.
"Your status in society can be determined even before you are born."
He approached Sharky.
"A man from an ordinary family will not be treated the same as a clan heir."
He spread his arms.
"And since society has placed the hero profession on a pedestal, the lowest people are the pariahs. We are seen by everyone as circus freaks."
Sharky didn't flinch.
"So, Midas…"
His voice was a growl.
"Do you even know what it means to be a pariah?"
He attacked.
His fist split the air.
Midas dodged. He grabbed a chair, threw it. Sharky pulverized it with a backhand.
He grabbed a table. Sharky shattered it.
He clung to the wall, bounced off, tried to strike by surprise.
Sharky caught him mid-air, hurled him through the window.
BOOM.
Midas landed in the courtyard. The ground cracked under the impact.
Sharky descended. He walked calmly, arms swinging, indifferent to the rubble.
Midas got up, his body aching.
I'm a pariah too. But my golden transformation… I have absolutely no control over it.
He grabbed Sharky's wrist.
"Golden Touch."
Nothing. Sharky's skin didn't change. His body didn't transform.
Sharky looked at him.
"It doesn't work on me."
His fists came down.
BAM. BAM. BAM.
Midas flew across the courtyard, crashed against a tree.
He spat blood.
"Who are you?"
Sharky stopped in front of him.
"My name is Sharky."
Midas's eyes widened.
Sharky? The kid from the playground, back then. The one I tried to protect. He was already a brawler. This time, I couldn't save him. He must have suffered. That's why he didn't want to thank me. He holds all that rage inside.
Midas stood up painfully.
With such strength, he could become an important ally.
Sharky drew back his fist.
"Wait."
Midas knelt on the ground.
He clasped his fingers together, tilted his head, and placed his hands on the asphalt. A traditional pose of apology.
"I'm sorry."
Sharky lowered his fist.
"Huh?"
"I apologize."
"Why?"
Midas looked up.
"I misjudged you. You won. I lost."
He stood up.
"But as the loser, I would like to ask you a favor."
He extended his hand.
"Join me. Become my right-hand man."
Sharky crossed his arms.
"And why would I do that? Why would I bow to the orders of some little bourgeois like you?"
"THE TRUTH IS, I'M POOR."
Silence fell.
"I killed my father. And I froze my mother in gold."
Sharky didn't flinch.
"I was adopted by Gap. He raised me. But he supposedly disappeared after an Association convention."
Midas clenched his fists.
"It's possible that the Association staged it. I want to get to the bottom of it. But I'm too weak to stand up to that organization."
He looked Sharky straight in the eyes.
"I want to rally strong beings for my revenge."
Sharky raised an eyebrow.
"What's in it for me?"
"This isn't just my fight. It's also the fight of the pariahs."
Sharky sneered.
"And you really think that by doing this, by using these kinds of methods, you'll achieve your goals?"
Midas didn't back down.
"THE METHOD DOESN'T MATTER. WHAT MATTERS IS THE RESULT."
His voice rose.
"Since the Association became linked to the State, it has built a power that overlaps the executive, legislative, and judicial branches."
He pointed his finger at the sky.
"This machine, in the years to come, will attack everything. Heroes are consumer products, more than real agents of peace."
He lowered his hand.
"I aim to create a noble world. Where heroes live only to serve. Being a hero isn't about beating up three monsters and signing autographs."
His voice softened.
"Being a hero is sacrificing everything to help others. That is the soul of a hero."
He bowed.
"SO I BEG YOU, JOIN MY FAMILY."
He looked up.
"AND LET'S OVERTHROW THE SYSTEM THAT CRUSHES US."
Sharky looked at him for a long time.
Then he lowered his arms.
"Fine. OK."
Midas looked up.
"But…"
Sharky approached.
"Don't think we're friends."
BAM.
He hit him on the head. Just like back then.
Then he walked away.
Midas staggered. His legs gave way. He was about to collapse.
Silva and Daek-Bin caught him.
"What got into you, Midas? Taking such a risk?"
Midas smiled. Tired. But happy.
"Ahhh… friends…"
A voice thundered behind him.
"MR. MIDAS GREY. MY OFFICE. NOW."
The principal. Red with anger.
Midas didn't even hear him.
He watched Sharky walk away.
I just added a perfect pawn to my chessboard. The game is about to begin.
---
INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT – SAME MOMENT
A young man came out of the boarding corridor. He had a long nose, curious eyes. He held American comic books – comics. THE PEAK. He looked at them, amazed.
"Woah. It's beautiful."
He looked up at the airport hall.
"Over here… so this is Jipangu? It's so classy. Nothing like Boston."
He took a taxi.
The driver, a smiling old man, held the door for him.
"Thank you, sir. You are so kind."
He arrived at a modest building. He paid, took his suitcases, went upstairs.
Shower. Hairpin. He looked out the window.
"So this is the academy where I'm going to study. Armstrong Academy… that's it."
He nodded.
"OK. Looks cool. Well, I'd better get some rest."
---
MIDAS'S APARTMENT – NIGHT
Midas sat on the couch. His arms were bandaged. His chest was covered in bruises.
Amélie had gone to bed. Her bedroom door was closed.
Silva sat beside him, a first aid kit in hand.
"You could take fewer risks sometimes."
Midas smiled.
"You could also stop worrying."
She applied a compress to his cheek.
They talked about everything and nothing. About school. About the teachers. About the next schemes to pull off. About memories.
She tended to his wounds, gently, carefully.
"I'll always be there for you, Midas. Just like you were for me."
He looked at her.
He stared at her.
She stared at him.
Her hands cupped his cheeks.
They kissed.
Softly. Longly. As if time stood still.
Then, in the heat of the moment, they took it to the next level.
Anyway, they had the right. Same age. Same legal majority.
Alone in the modest apartment, under the gaze of the golden statue of Midas's mother.
The statue seemed different tonight.
As if it were alive.
As if it were watching them.
---
TO BE CONTINUED…