Chapter 10 — An Apple
Stark Queen Medical Center, Room 409.
"Thanks, Shorty. You really didn't have to come visit me."
Angel lay on the hospital bed, his face a little pale. Ivan sat on a chair across from him. The two had been chatting like this for quite a while.
"Your face says otherwise."
Ivan silently cursed those thugs for how viciously they had acted—grown men actually stabbing a high school student.
The blows from clubs hadn't caused Angel any serious damage. The real reason he was lying in a hospital bed was that final stab.
The medical report clearly stated that Angel had suffered acute renal failure due to a sharp-force injury to his kidney.
"It's a shame… If I'd stepped in earlier…"
Ivan still remembered the moment Angel ripped off his shirt, flexed his muscles, and roared, 'I'm going to knock you all down today!' His own blood had boiled along with it. Deep down, he truly hoped Angel could turn the tables and take down those three arrogant thugs by himself.
And Angel had almost done it.
Unfortunately, two fists still couldn't beat four hands.
"I never thought you'd be an esper, Shorty," Angel said. "And one several levels stronger than me, at that. But… thanks for stepping in late. Otherwise, I'd regret it for the rest of my life."
"And now you don't regret it?" Ivan asked. "You're injured."
Angel shook his head. "What's a little injury for a real man? At least I tried. I proved I can't take on three people alone. Since I tried, there's nothing to regret."
"Mm." Ivan understood—Angel was the competitive, prideful type. He had always thought Angel just liked showing off, but he'd overlooked his courage.
Angel dared to stand on a stage and announce to the world that he was a superpowered individual. When faced with three adult thugs, he didn't turn and run—he chose to defend his dignity with his fists.
Seen this way, the boy really did have his own shining qualities.
"Um…"
Angel looked at Ivan. "Thanks. If it weren't for you, I'd probably be finished."
"By the way, why were they after you?" Ivan asked.
At the time, all of Ivan's attention had been focused on restoring the tree that had been burned bald. When he snapped back to his senses, he saw Angel already being beaten by the thugs.
"It's my own fault. I know why," Angel said. "A lot of people at school are jealous of me. I knew that, but I didn't hold back at all. I just didn't expect them to actually hire people to beat me up."
From his point of view, he didn't recognize those three thugs at all. And since they had clearly said they were beating that superpowered kid, the only explanation was that someone at school had it out for him and hired outsiders to do the dirty work.
"Yeah." Ivan could understand why people would want to punch him. Angel really did attract hatred. If all the pretty girls were getting swept off their feet by him, other guys wouldn't stand a chance.
"Oh—right. Shorty, could you do me another favor?"
"What kind of favor?"
"Those girls… they don't know how those three bastards got dealt with, right?"
"Yeah. At school today they were all talking about it. They really did run far away back then—no one came back to check on you. But they know now that you're okay."
"Then could you… could you…" Angel hesitated.
"I get it," Ivan said. "I won't say anything. You can just tell them you used your superpowers to deal with those three thugs."
Although Ivan thought it was unnecessary to care so much about what those girls thought, he respected other people's preferences and didn't look down on Angel for it.
"Thanks. You're really nice."
"But I have one condition," Ivan suddenly said.
"Huh? What condition?"
"Stop calling me Shorty."
"Deal! No problem!"
"And don't go around telling people I have superpowers."
Ivan didn't have a compulsive need to hide his abilities, but he also didn't want to be like Angel—having the whole school know he was a superpowered kid.
At least not yet. He wanted to grow up peacefully. He could deal with everything else later.
In truth, Ivan had considered using his psionic power to heal Angel's kidney. But in the end, he dismissed the idea.
By now, he understood how psionic restoration actually worked.
First, he had to rely on imagination, using psionic energy over a short period of time to reassemble every damaged fragment into its correct position. Then, using the adhesive properties inherent in psionic energy, he forcibly fixed everything in place.
That was how an object could be restored to its original state. Even so, some restored objects would still show cracks—tiny errors caused by the slightest flaw in his imagination.
The brain was made up of countless components: memory, logic, primal will, spatial imagination, analytical ability, rapid judgment, and many more.
Among all these, Ivan excelled in only one area.
His spatial-visual imagination was a freakish, once-in-a-generation talent.
Because of that, his psionic power and his brain complemented each other perfectly.
But even with his imagination, restoring an object was never guaranteed to be one hundred percent successful. If an object ended up with cracks, it didn't matter much.
Human organs were different.
He couldn't predict what kind of risks or accidents might occur. One small mistake could ruin Angel's life—or kill him outright. Ivan didn't want to gamble with Angel's life just to experiment with psionic power.
The two chatted a bit more. Soon after, Ivan received a call from Cullen, the red-haired man, saying the seeds were ready. Ivan said goodbye to Angel and decided to head over to take a look.
Passing by the spot where Angel had fought the three thugs, Ivan saw that the crowd had already dispersed. Although people were curious about why the ground had been destroyed and left with a massive crater, they all had their own lives to attend to. Once the novelty wore off, they naturally moved on.
Before long, Ivan arrived at Cullen's house.
"Ivan, you're finally here! I got all the seeds ready today—now it's your time to shine!"
As he spoke, Cullen led Ivan into the backyard.
"I followed the normal process. The seeds are already planted, and enough time has passed. But how are you going to speed up their growth?"
Cullen's backyard wasn't large, but the soil had all been turned over and was still damp—it looked like it had just been watered.
"What did you plant?" Ivan asked.
"Apple seeds. Easy to get," Cullen replied.
"Alright. I'll give it a try."
"So how much faster can you make them grow?" Cullen asked curiously.
Ivan didn't answer. He simply raised his left hand. Wrapped in a pale blue glow, his clothes began to tremble.
It was as if a current of wind had started swirling through the yard. A gentle breeze brushed across their faces, and at the same moment, seven green sprouts broke through the soil.
"They sprouted! This is incredible!" Cullen's eyes went wide.
The sprouts grew at a visible speed, gradually taking shape. Taller and taller they grew, until they finally became apple trees laden with fruit.
Seeing this, Ivan stopped channeling his psionic power. Light and wind vanished instantly.
Cullen stood there, dumbfounded, murmuring, "So it's not a matter of several times faster… they just grow straight to completion!"
"Here," Ivan said with a grin. "You handle the selling."
Laughing freely, Ivan felt genuine joy watching the apple trees mature before his eyes.
"O-Okay! Got it!"
Having witnessed a miracle, Cullen made up his mind on the spot—no matter what, he would partner up with Ivan in the future to run a farm. Cullen would handle planting and sales, Ivan would handle growth and yield. Ivan would take the bigger share; Cullen would take the smaller.
Night fell.
Moonlight was enchanting.
But the three men stranded on a chunk of land several thousand meters in the air had no mood to appreciate it.
Hunger and exhaustion drove people to despair.
Ruths looked listlessly at the other Black man who appeared to be sleeping, then raised his head and asked the Asian man, "Kai… how about I jump first?"
By now, the three were no longer as afraid of falling as they had been at the start. Dying of hunger felt far worse—especially since the two Black men had already begun to consider jumping off to end it quickly.
So even sleeping up there, they weren't worried anymore. Either way, death was death.
"You jump if you want," Kai replied weakly.
"You stabbed him! And you still expect him to let us go?" Ruths complained bitterly. "This is all your fault—you dragged us into this."
"Heh. Ruths is right," said the other Black man, who hadn't actually been asleep.
"If I hadn't made a move, would you two useless idiots have been able to handle him?" Kai shot back.
As they argued, a pale blue point of light slowly floated upward.
At the center of that light—
Was an apple.