The sun hung high in the sky, and the air carried a mix of cheap perfume, sweat, and the smell of cigarettes lit in secret.
There was also the wet smacking sound of couples kissing.
A little rude, honestly.
Never underestimate American students. Even if they were just a bunch of teenagers, young romance had already become a normal part of life at their age.
At the corner,
three boys in sagging pants were leaning against the wall, putting on the full act of juvenile delinquents. The one who looked like the leader was discussing with his lackeys which bar they were going to hit after school.
This was America.
Once you were fourteen, you had already picked up plenty of bad habits. In American schools, there were lots of bullies like this. They were usually the famous figures in every school.
The kind ordinary people avoided.
But
Ian walked right past the group without even glancing at them.
"Yo, Ian!"
The leader suddenly looked up and grinned. Straightening his clothes, he swaggered over to Ian and reached into his pocket, pulling out several crumpled bills.
"Same as always. Tutoring fee. Yeah, tutoring fee. Next month, you've gotta make my dad feel like my grades are steadily improving."
The leader handed the money over to Ian.
His attitude was completely different from the way he treated everyone else, almost humble.
"Got it."
Ian stopped walking, took the money, and smoothly spread it out with his fingers.
"But you're ten dollars short."
He spoke calmly.
"Damn, your math really is good." Seeing that his little trick had failed, the leader could only grumble as he dug around in his pocket again and slapped a few more bills into Ian's open palm.
Then he turned and walked back to his little group.
As if nothing had happened.
Ian's departing figure looked utterly ordinary, yet none of the underlings mocked the way their leader had treated him. After all, everyone at this school knew the school's legend.
Or rather, the legend of all Metropolis.
Once upon a time,
Ian had also suffered some unpleasant school bullying.
But in only half an hour, he had successfully used the law to defend his rights, sending both the bully and the bully's mother to prison together.
Nothing had happened between him and the older woman, of course, but since she had tried getting handsy with Ian, he had naturally responded with the righteous fist of the law.
Reputation?
That was not important.
Even Clark had never suspected him.
Because everything Ian said had been true.
Just not completely true.
And his tearful, voice-breaking testimony in front of the jury had been the battle that made him a legend.
Ever since then, even the top dogs at school spoke to him politely and never dared threaten him in the slightest.
Especially after Ian kept getting more handsome as he grew older, nobody was willing to gamble on the fidelity of their female relatives.
Because of that, every classmate Ian met at school was a classmate with a friendly attitude.
"I need to strengthen my body."
After leaving school,
Ian did not head home right away. Instead, he planned to go work out at the gym Jonathan often mentioned. Since he only knew the gym's name, he reluctantly hailed a taxi.
"Where to?"
The driver was a rugged middle-aged man with a scruffy beard, a tall, solid build, sharp features, and a voice that carried a little rasp, giving him the air of someone who had seen a lot in life.
Ian set down his backpack and immediately replied, "Hello, I'm going to the Titan Gym. If I remember right, it should be in the nearby district, not too far."
He was obviously trying to stop the driver from taking a longer route. When it came to that particular skill, Metropolis taxi drivers ranked just below Gotham taxi drivers next door.
"Mm."
The driver was a quiet type. He did not ask any questions. He silently started the meter and pulled away.
The ride was smooth. Ian leaned against the window, absentmindedly rubbing the pendant on his chest with his fingers.
He was already starting to feel a little fatigued. He just did not know when he would finally start gaining experience from it. While Ian was wondering whether working out might grant him a general skill,
ring ring ring.
The driver's phone suddenly started ringing.
Without taking his eyes off the road, the driver pulled out his phone and answered it.
"Yeah, I'm with a passenger right now."
"Right now? This instant?"
"What do you mean if I don't come, you're going to die?"
The driver's expression changed.
So did the entire mood.
His driving style, which had been steady just moments ago, switched instantly. One stomp on the gas nearly felt like he was trying to shove the pedal through the fuel tank.
Vrooom.
Even the engine was screaming.
The taxi launched forward like a cannonball.
And at the turns, he drifted.
Ian felt like his brain was bouncing around inside his skull. Normally he did not panic, but this situation was very clearly not normal.
"This isn't Los Santos! You can slow down!"
Ian looked at the dashboard and swallowed. The needle had already gone past 180.
The driver ignored him completely.
One hand gripped the wheel while the other frantically called the number back.
"Pick up! Are you still alive?!"
No answer.
So the driver switched to voice message.
"Hang on! I'm almost there!"
He shouted anxiously into the phone.
And right at that moment,
"I know you're in a hurry, but please don't be in a hurry."
Ian's voice rang out.
"Holy hell!"
The driver suddenly realized that a small head had somehow appeared right next to him. He was so startled he nearly drove the car straight into a roadside fast-food place.
Thankfully, his driving skills were good enough that he managed to regain control in time.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!"
The driver could not take his eyes off the road, but he also wanted to turn and see how Ian's head had gotten over there. Was he seriously seeing a ghost in broad daylight?
"Really, I can get out here. Just stop the car. It won't delay you that long." Ian held onto the bent partition bar that he had warped with both hands and spoke in a gentle voice.
"Sir, just hit the brakes once up ahead. Really, just brake once for me. As long as the speed drops, I can jump out myself."
To be fair, Ian really was compromising here.
There was no helping it.
The speedometer was already getting close to 220.
He might not have had a license, but even he knew that at this kind of speed, even with the power of a [Berserker], he could feel the thrill of Fast and Furious 19 bearing down on him. He did not want to become tomorrow's headline together with the driver.
This was not the origin story Ian wanted.
And it definitely was not the background information he wanted to write down on Heaven's intake form.
"So, uh, let me just ask something. Is this the handbrake?"
Ian spoke again. It was not that he actually wanted to pull it. He just hoped the question would scare the driver enough to make him stop voluntarily.
"Huh? What are you trying to do?"
The driver was indeed badly frightened. Unable to hold back any longer, he kept one eye on the road while desperately protecting the handbrake, all while stealing frequent glances backward.
What he saw was Ian forcing his whole body toward the front.
The not-exactly-thin partition bars were bending wildly.
Ian's arms were twisted and bleeding, yet the boy seemed not to care at all.
His eyes were fixed straight ahead, locked onto the handbrake.
"!!!???"
The sheer absurdity of the scene
left the driver staring in utter disbelief.
"Damn it! Something's wrong with this kid!" The driver swallowed hard, feeling a chill shoot straight up his spine. At that moment, he would almost rather have believed he was seeing a ghost in broad daylight.
Because something more terrifying than a ghost
was a madman.
And something even more terrifying than a madman
was a madman so outrageous he looked like a ghost.
(End of Chapter)
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