A boy was walking along the sidewalk among the crowd, holding his phone, until he stopped in front of a café. Before going in, he paused to check the name and the place.
"Is it here? Wasn't there a more private place?" he murmured.
He sighed and then went inside.
"Last table…" he muttered, looking at his phone.
Going to the last table, he sat down and began to wait. He had arranged to meet other people there.
A few seconds after sitting down, a pretty waitress appeared with a small notepad and asked if he would like to order something.
"What are you going to have?" she asked.
"Bring me a juice and a ham-and-cheese sandwich," he replied.
After that, the waitress left to prepare his order. Some time later, she returned with his food.
He ate and then waited for the others to arrive.
It didn't take long before three people entered the café in a very suspicious way.
They seemed to be looking for someone.
The boy, who was sitting at a table with four seats, waved so they could see him.
After spotting him, they walked over and sat at the same table.
"You could've picked a less eye-catching place," the boy said.
"So it'd be easier for you to kill us?" Butcher said.
"I wouldn't kill you… at least I don't have a reason to," he replied.
"Oh come on, guys, let's be normal. Nobody's killing anyone," MM said.
"That's right, we're here and we're going to get along," Frenchie said.
Then he continued:
"And what about your tracker?" Frenchie asked.
"I don't think it works anymore," the boy replied.
"Great, that's great. We don't want Vought after us. Nobody here wants to die."
"Do you really think it stopped?" MM asked.
"I think so. If it were working, they'd already be after me," he replied.
"That's good… we're at least a bit safer now," Frenchie said.
"By the way, we still don't know your name," Frenchie added.
"My name? I don't have one," he replied.
Frenchie and MM exchanged glances.
"You need a name. Pick one, or you can leave it to me and I'll choose one for you," Frenchie said.
"Choosing one is…" the boy murmured, looking up, trying to think.
"How about James? It's a name I like, and it's the name I made up last night," he said.
MM and Frenchie exchanged looks again.
"Alright, if that's what you want. Now let's talk about the plan," MM said.
"Finally you're done with this chit-chat. I was starting to think you'd choose the bride's dress color too," Butcher said.
"Oh Butcher, you're really annoying," MM said.
"By the way, am I the only one curious about how this kid grew so much? Look at him, he's taller than Frenchie now. What the hell are you taking to get this big? Steroids, kid?" Butcher said.
"What are you talking about?" James asked, confused.
"Now that you mention it, he really is bigger… and fatter too…"
"Hey, I'm not fat…"
"It's true, now that you said it, I hadn't noticed."
"What are they talking about?" James thought.
"Didn't you look in the mirror, Sleeping Beauty?" Butcher said.
"A mirror? One moment, wait here…" James said, standing up and walking to the waitress.
"Where's the bathroom?" he asked.
"That door at the end of the hallway," she said.
"Thanks," he replied, heading there.
He entered the bathroom and looked for a mirror.
When he found one and looked at himself, he was surprised by what he saw.
He had grown.
"How did I grow so fast?" he thought.
Thinking that something else might have changed, he took off his shirt to check.
"My God…" he murmured in awe.
"Holy shit, I have abs. Look at these muscles—my muscles have muscles," he thought.
After that, he couldn't hold it in and let out a villain-like laugh. After laughing and admiring himself, he went back to the table with the others, a goofy look on his face.
"What kind of face is that…?" Butcher said.
Without giving them time to react, after sitting down he lifted his shirt and showed his defined abs.
"Look at this. Isn't this the most defined stomach you've ever seen? Want to see my muscles too? They're incredible, they're like rocks. When did I get a body like this? I think women are going to love it. Look at this, mine are also—"
"That's enough. We get it, you're ripped. You can stop with all this nonsense," Butcher said, interrupting him.
"Oh, right. Sorry, I got carried away," James murmured.
"Here's the deal: we came here to discuss what you're going to do to help us, got it? We didn't come here to make friends or mess around. This is important, and we're not—HEY, YOU TWO, STOP TOUCHING HIS MUSCLES," Butcher shouted.
"Look at this, Butcher. His muscles feel like iron. You have to touch this," MM said while squeezing James's arm. Frenchie was just as entertained.
"Stop messing around…" Butcher muttered.
"Alright, sorry," MM and Frenchie said.
"So, we need to think of a way to get you inside Vought—a way that doesn't look suspicious. You can't just go back there and say you want in. That'd be weird. We'll have to find another way. Anyone got any ideas?" Butcher asked.
"What if we ask Grace?" Frenchie suggested.
"It's a good idea, but I don't think she'll help us," Butcher said.
"Why not?" MM asked.
"I already owe her. I can't keep asking for favors all the time," Butcher replied.
"Maybe we just have to do what other supers do to get into the Seven," Frenchie said.
"And how do they do that?" MM asked.
"I don't know, I'm not a supe," Frenchie replied.
The boys kept discussing the best idea for a while. At some point, the waitress even came by and asked if they wanted to order anything else.
"I have an idea… and it's an idea I might regret," James said, drawing everyone's attention.
"And what is it?" Butcher asked, curious.
James felt chills just thinking about what he'd have to submit himself to. It would be humiliating, embarrassing—but necessary.
"You said these heroes wear costumes and go around saving people. All I need to do is get attention, and at some point they'll show up and ask me to join them, right?" he said.
"Yeah… that's basically what they say happens," Butcher muttered.
"This could work, Butcher," Frenchie said.
"It's true, but if that's the case, you're going to need a costume…" MM said.
"A costume? You mean those tight outfits that show your ass and are embarrassing? That… that's terrible. I'll have to submit myself to such humiliation," James said, his face tense and worried about his future.
"Alright, it might work. I'll see if I can find someone to create a superhero suit for you. Any ideas?"
"Anything that doesn't squeeze my ass and doesn't look gay is fine…" James murmured, sounding lifeless.
The others, upon hearing that, burst out laughing.