Chapter 6 — A Five-Dollar Connection
The owner and the Black man exchanged glances. The few young men who had been drunk at the round tables were now awake, discovering that they had fallen onto the floor, with unfinished drinks splashed all over their faces.
"What the hell?"
"An earthquake," the owner explained.
The group complained a bit, then helped each other up and left the bar.
Only Ivan knew—this wasn't an earthquake.
At the moment the Black man grabbed his shoulder, a sense of resistance had risen in Ivan's heart. On top of that, he had been imagining himself fighting some villain with his superpowers.
That combination had led to what just happened. It could be said to be completely unintentional.
If Ivan hadn't suppressed the release at the instant his psionic energy erupted, he felt that this entire block might have turned into ruins—and even the school some distance away would have been affected.
After so long learning about his psionic energy, he could vaguely estimate how powerful the energy that had almost burst out of him just now was—and that had only been an accidental release.
"So close…"
Ivan muttered. At this moment, he barely dared to breathe, afraid that a single mistake might destroy something.
To him, this was a fragile world.
"Don't be scared, kid. The earthquake is over."
Seeing Ivan muttering to himself, looking thoroughly frightened, the owner hurried over to comfort him.
"How long has it been since New York had an earthquake?" the Black man, Lucas, had also recovered and asked the owner.
"A long time. I'll grab some tools and clean this place up."
After the owner went into the back room, the Black man Lucas turned his head to look at Ivan.
"Kid, you okay?"
Ivan nodded. "I'm fine. Why did you grab me just now?"
"Wanted to see how solid you are," Lucas said.
"Mm."
"You look pretty skinny. Actually, I opened a gym nearby. If you've got time, you can come work out."
Lucas took out a card. "The address is on here."
"Thanks." Ivan took the card and slipped it into the pocket of his jeans.
Do hooligans have legitimate jobs too? Then what makes them hooligans?
Seeing the faint confusion on Ivan's face, Lucas smiled—a rare sight.
"I've been on the streets since I was fifteen. It's been six years now. Collecting protection money and all that—I've done it all."
"Mm."
"Now I've got some savings. I know I can't be a hoodlum forever. I want to quit and live a peaceful life."
"Oh."
"If you can, help me spread the word at school. Sixteen dollars a month—use all the equipment you want," Lucas said.
That price was really cheap!
"For every person you bring in to sign up for a monthly pass, I'll give you three dollars. How about it?"
"Trying to trick people into joining your gym again?" The owner came out of the back room with cleaning tools, smiling. "Your facilities aren't exactly complete."
"So what? I'm the only gym around here. I picked the location carefully."
"Only you would dare open a gym in that area."
That night, Ivan got to know Lucas, the Black man who ran a gym.
From then on, Ivan went to Lucas's gym almost every afternoon after school.
Not because he wanted to become a musclebound guy, but because he wanted to strengthen his body so he wouldn't get sick so easily.
Whether in his past life or this one, Ivan had always been thin, and he firmly believed that a weak body was more susceptible to illness.
In New York, kids his age were generally strong and well-built. By comparison, Ivan's limbs looked slender. He wanted to improve his condition through training.
Jessica soon noticed that Ivan was going out by himself every day after school. After pressing him for answers, she learned that he was going to the gym. From then on, whenever she didn't have extra classes, she would occasionally go with him.
Although they'd heard that security around this area wasn't very good, over the course of a month, Ivan hadn't encountered a single bad person. He actually hoped he would—so he could practice real combat control of his psionic energy.
Unfortunately, villains weren't that easy to run into.
That day, after school, Jessica said she was going to a classmate's birthday party. Ivan wasn't invited and didn't plan to go anyway, so after eating dinner at a nearby restaurant, he walked alone toward the gym.
Lucas's gym was still very secluded. Without heavy promotion, it was hard for anyone to even know a gym existed there.
Just as he was getting close, a red-haired young man blocked Ivan's path.
"Is it finally happening?" Ivan had a premonition—someone was finally going to cause him trouble.
"Hand over all your cash, and you can leave," the red-haired man stated his demand.
"Sorry, I don't have any." Ivan sensed the psionic energy within himself. Over the past month, he had been practicing controlling it, and he had gotten pretty good.
Still, he didn't dare be careless. Before, his practice targets had only been objects—now it would be a person.
He estimated that if he only wanted to teach this red-haired youth a lesson, he would need to suppress his psionic energy to an even smaller amount than what it took to bend a steel pen.
This was the perfect moment to test the results of his training!
"Where's your money? You should have some, right?" The red-haired man brushed aside his bangs and pulled out a dagger from his waist, saying ominously.
"I got robbed already," Ivan said. "I've been hungry all day."
Good! That's it! When he makes a move on me, I'll control my strength and counterattack!
"Is that so? Looks like—" The red-haired man stared coldly at Ivan, playing with the dagger in his hand.
Ivan was ready for anything!
"—I'll have to let you go."
The red-haired man finished his sentence.
"Eh?" Ivan was taken aback.
"What?" The red-haired man raised an eyebrow.
"You're just… letting me go?" Ivan asked blankly.
He had the distinct feeling of I already took my pants off and this is what you're showing me.
"What else should I do? You've got no money, and you've been hungry all day." The red-haired man said calmly, tucking the dagger back at his waist.
"Won't you hit me? You couldn't get any money—shouldn't you be angry?" Ivan asked, still clinging to a fishing-for-trouble mindset, hoping the other guy wouldn't just give up like this.
"Why would I waste my energy beating you? I said you can go." As he spoke, the red-haired man leaned back against a large tree and sat down, pulling out his phone to play with it.
ŎдŎ; Are bad guys really this easy to deal with? I didn't even need superpowers. Everyone says the Marvel world is dangerous…
Thinking this, Ivan had no choice but to give up. If he'd known, he would've said he had money.
But just as he was about to walk past the red-haired man, the man suddenly looked up, his gaze turning icy as he stared at Ivan.
"Stop right there," he barked coldly.
Of course it wouldn't be that simple.
Ivan turned his body toward the red-haired youth and saw him stand up and walk over.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Finally, he stopped in front of Ivan.
"Take it."
He held out a five-dollar bill.
"What for?"
"Aren't you hungry? Take it. Staying hungry too long will make your stomach hurt," the red-haired man said.