Ian's college entrance exam score in his previous life had been excellent.
But whether in his last life or this one, his real-world experience had been far less impressive. Even so, Ian felt that he ought to receive at least a little of the respect due to an adult.
"Did somebody perhaps forget to say thank you?"
Seeing that both the cashier and the robber were staring at him in confusion, Ian repeated himself, this time in a slightly more pointed tone, trying to enlighten the man.
"What the hell are you talking about? Get lost!"
The robber snapped back to his senses and shouted angrily at Ian. The small-caliber handgun in his hand waved at him like it was rapping along to a beat.
"Stop wasting my time, kid. I've still got three more places to rob today!"
It had to be said, this robber was unusually hardworking.
He had given himself a very full workload.
Fair enough.
After all, Metropolis sat right next to Gotham, that land overflowing with remarkable talent. People and trends spilled over from there all the time. On some streets, there were ordinary folks making a living by dealing, soliciting, and disposing of corpses.
"Hm? Rude Mr. Robber? I thought your choice of mask showed great taste!"
Ian still had not moved despite the robber's threat.
The guy with the stocking over his head was close to breaking down.
"Damn it! What do you want from me?"
He kept the gun raised in his right hand while pressing two fingers to his temple, looking utterly fed up with Ian.
"Thank you! Thank you! Happy now?"
At last,
the robber failed to win the standoff with Ian.
"Mm, good. Then please continue your work, sir."
Satisfied that he had received the respect he wanted, Ian turned and left again.
He knew he should try his best to blend into the baseline of this world. He also knew that, as an [Ordinary NPC], he should not involve himself too deeply in all sorts of incidents.
Saving the world and protecting peace was a superhero's job. They were favored by cosmic will, so they could just charge in with passion and win. But an ordinary NPC like Ian had many more things to consider.
If a superhero pulled off a move like this, maybe it would end in glorious success.
If an ordinary NPC with no plot luck tried the same thing, though, he would most likely only end up becoming the heroic name that superheroes solemnly promised to "remember" and honor afterward.
That was why, just as the robber was carrying out the city's usual brand of chaos, Ian felt he too should respect the social norms of everyday Metropolis life.
Only that way
could an ordinary NPC like him avoid being the kind of person people dragged out one day to memorialize and mourn.
Honestly, Ian had a very clear awareness of his role. An ordinary NPC should do ordinary NPC things.
Eat, sleep, enjoy life, and secretly get stronger.
Crack. Crunch.
Ian chewed on a cream-filled bun and drank a Coke, building muscle with ruthless efficiency as he walked out of the store. Only after he was fully gone did the robber finally relax and turn back around.
"All right, where were we... And don't think I'm a nice guy. If that kid had been an adult, I would've shot him dead."
The robber slipped right back into character.
Baring his teeth in an attempt to look fierce, he started threatening the cashier again.
"All the cash! And all the unregistered gift cards too!"
"And grab me a few packs of Marlboros over there! And toss in a lighter too!"
The robber's targets were extremely clear. He even pulled a large black plastic bag from his waist.
He looked experienced.
Well prepared.
And at that moment,
"Welcome~"
The emotionless greeting from the entrance rang out once again.
"??????"
The robber's expression turned spectacular.
Watching that damned boy walk back in again, he nearly inhaled the stocking on his head into his throat from sheer disbelief.
"What do you want now?!"
The collapsing robber looked one step away from howling at the sky.
"Nothing, I'm not here for you. It's just that my talent for financial planning twitched a little."
Ian walked back up to the register and looked at the cashier, who was in the middle of bagging things for the robber.
He carefully chose his words.
"So... I was wondering, since this store is clearly doomed to be cleaned out today anyway, could you refund me my thirty dollars and forty-five cents?"
Under the increasingly bewildered gaze of the robber, Ian spoke politely, sounding a little embarrassed.
The cashier had lived more than twenty years and had truly never encountered a situation like this before.
"Huh?"
The cashier looked completely lost.
"Well, your store has insurance, so it'll get paid back whatever it's supposed to get paid back. If you refund me my money, then it's a three-way win and everyone gets to have a wonderful day."
Ian was displaying his still-immature negotiating talent.
He thought his logic was absolutely flawless and more than worthy of his towering 2.4 Intelligence.
Superman had a super brain, and Ian, as Superman's son, even if only adopted, obviously had one too.
His super brain was telling him that this was a chance to save a small amount of money.
Just think about it.
If he got his money back, then that also meant that in the illegal markets for things like drugs and contraband, at least thirty dollars and forty-five cents less would circulate.
This was what the economics he had never actually studied would call macroeconomic regulation.
And more than that, was this not also a contribution to the peace and stability of Metropolis?
Yes.
He had not shamed the title of Superman's son at all.
"So?"
Ian's logic was internally consistent. He looked at the cashier with hopeful eyes.
"Uh... how exactly am I the one having a wonderful day?"
The cashier felt that something was off, but at the same time also vaguely felt the boy's argument kind of made sense.
He just could not figure out what he was winning here.
"You get a few days off because of it. Maybe if you slap yourself a few times too, you could even claim workplace injury compensation."
Ian's answer was airtight.
"You can do that?"
The cashier slapped his forehead in realization and immediately turned an inquiring look toward the robber.
The robber took quite a while to sort through Ian's train of thought.
"Then doesn't that mean I'm the one losing out?"
The robber frowned, his voice full of dissatisfaction.
At last, he had fully understood it. Ian's proposal would reduce today's earnings by thirty dollars and forty-five cents.
"..."
The cashier looked back toward Ian.
"You could just pretend I never came in and bought the bun."
Ian blinked and offered the suggestion.
That refusal to engage with reality on any meaningful level directly struck the robber speechless.
The cashier swallowed nervously.
And just when he thought the robber was about to explode,
"The kid's right. Hurry up, refund him his thirty bucks, and then we all have a wonderful day!"
The robber waved the gun threateningly at the cashier a few times.
"It's thirty dollars and forty-five cents," Ian reminded him quietly.
The robber looked from Ian to the cashier and nodded. Yes, refund that exact amount.
"..."
The cashier had gone numb.
"Here."
He counted out thirty dollars and forty-five cents and handed it over to Ian.
"You know math, right? You look like a student. You've got that student kind of... what's the word... boldness."
The robber, seeing Ian take the refund, suddenly seemed to have an idea. Then he asked a question that looked completely unrelated to anything happening right now.
It was incredibly abrupt.
Ian merely assumed the guy's train of thought was strange.
"You've got that kind of eye for people? Being a robber is wasting your talents!"
Ian's response counted as an admission.
And once Ian nodded with impressed surprise, the robber immediately followed up eagerly.
"Good! Hurry up, then! Calculate this for me! How much tax do I need to report on this job?"
That absolutely counted as the moment the dagger was finally revealed.
Good lord.
He was a robber, yet still a tax-conscious citizen of America?
Ian had genuinely not expected that. He was stunned. Another day of broadening his horizons.
Metropolis taught him something new every day.
"Hm? You wouldn't want me to take your thirty dollars back, would you?"
The robber began threatening him.
Clearly, the reason he had agreed to refund Ian in the first place had been to make use of him like this.
It had to be said,
this was impressive.
Very rare.
There was actually a real schemer hiding under that stocking mask.
(End of Chapter)
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