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*****
Gwen's business was booming. In a single morning, she sold out every last pack of spicy sticks.
Because she had raised the price in time, when the final wrapped batch was gone, she counted the day's take, eyes flashing with little money signs.
She handed Peter and the others a hundred dollars each as wages, then counted what remained for herself and couldn't resist planting a hard kiss on the cash.
Watching Gwen's money-obsessed look, Harry grew thoughtful.
Peter's gaze was gentle; to him, Gwen looked adorable no matter how he saw her.
Luke curled his lip and muttered under his breath, "Money grubber."
Mary Jane, however, was full of envy. She hadn't expected Gwen to make so much money so easily.
It looked like she needed to learn a lot more from Gwen.
Once she had money, she could live on her own and move out of that rotten house.
Staring at the bills in her hand, a spark of hope rose in her eyes.
"Ice cream's on me!"
Gwen called out to the group, and they cheered, piling into Harry's private car before heading off.
When Gwen returned home, she reported her victory to Mike, waving the green bills and hopping with joy in front of him like a newly rich upstart.
Suddenly, she sniffed twice and said in surprise, "Dad, did you make spicy sticks again?"
Mike nodded.
"Where? Where?"
Gwen craned her neck this way and that, her eyes seeming to gleam with ghostly light.
"Steve and the others split them."
"Huh?" Gwen said in disappointment. "They're gone already?"
She'd wanted to sell them for more money.
All that cash—fluttered away.
Mike flicked Gwen lightly on the forehead, suppressing a laugh. "Fallen into a money pit, have you? Go wash your hands. Dinner's almost ready."
...
Christmas arrived on schedule.
But this year, only Mike and Gwen—father and daughter—and Raven spent it together.
Clark and Hope had gone off to celebrate elsewhere.
Ever since things ended between Carrie, Lois, and him, his meetups with Hope had skyrocketed.
And on Christmas Day, Gwen received a special gift—
A mount made for her by Tony.
A giant mechanical eagle: black as the base color, with gold edging along its wings.
Two meters tall with a five-meter wingspan, it could fly and carried plenty of built-in weaponry.
When Gwen received it, she was so excited she couldn't sleep all night, and their riding tour had to be postponed by a day.
After Christmas, once they had packed everything, Gwen and her friends finally set off.
They planned a ten-day trip. Considering their age, they hadn't arranged to go too far.
Watching Gwen pedal away, Mike looked a little heartsick.
In an instant, it felt like Gwen had grown up.
Raven leaned against him, amused by his expression. She was just about to comfort him when Mike turned to her.
"Let's go travel too!"
Raven blinked, then looked at him tenderly and nodded.
They hadn't enjoyed a two-person world in a long time.
Two hours later, while Gwen and the others were resting outside a restaurant, she received a message in the Kent family group chat.
Mike: We're off on a trip!
Beneath the text was a photo of Mike and Raven embracing.
Gwen: …
Aaaah!
How could they do this!
She slammed the table in a huff, making Luke and Harry flinch.
Clark: Got it—message received!
Charles: Dad, where are you going? Take one more!
Erik: At work!
Gwen's eyes rolled craftily, and her fingers flew across the screen.
Gwen: So… when am I getting a little brother?
Clark, Erik, Charles: !
Seeing their replies, Gwen snickered, pocketed her phone, and looked at the other four. "Done resting? We need to head out!"
Their destination was Snow City.
According to the plan, they would ride fifty to sixty kilometers a day; in about a week, they would reach Snow City.
After arriving, they would play for two days and then fly back.
"Let's go!"
Mary Jane sprang to her feet, struck a dramatic "depart" pose, and hopped onto her bicycle first.
Seeing her expression, the other four couldn't help but chuckle.
Since they'd left home, Mary Jane had become much more lively, like a bird freed from its cage.
"Don't just stand there! Move it!"
At her urging, the four hurried after her, chatting and laughing as they headed for the horizon.
As for safety—so long as Gwen was around, there was nothing to worry about.
At the same time, at Future Tech Company—
Looking over the chat logs and photos, a weary Erik allowed himself a smile.
He set the phone aside and rubbed his temples.
Running a company was harder than he had imagined—especially a company like his, full of mutants.
Although time and effort had slowly shifted public opinion, and both the X-Men and Future Tech continued to work hard to change fear into acceptance, for mutants to be fully embraced and integrated into a world that had always been theirs would still take a very long road.
The special nature of mutant powers determined their predicament.
Some mutants were so strong they could be treated as weapons; once such people gathered together, they became a force no nation or faction could ignore.
Fear, temptation, vigilance…
Even if they behaved harmlessly, they would still be watched.
Take their Future Tech Company—and the X School.
Leaving the School aside, let's just talk about Future Tech.
Since the day it was founded, their troubles had been far beyond those of ordinary companies. The slightest issue would be magnified and then projected onto mutants as a whole.
And because Future Tech was created by mutants, the technologies they mastered drew countless prying eyes. One wrong step meant a mountain of trouble.
In the end, people were still guarding against mutants; they did not see them as the same kind.
Thinking of this, Erik couldn't help a wry smile.
So many years on, even the discrimination and social problems born of skin color hadn't been fully erased—let alone those centered on mutants.
The burden was heavy, and the road was long…
Just then, Erik's phone rang.
He answered, listening to Soundwave's anxious voice, and his brow knit tightly.
"Boss, Victor got into a conflict with a client. Only you can rein him in!"
"Where are you?"
"Negotiation room on the seventh floor."
"Understood. I'm on my way."
Erik murmured a reply, hung up, and hurried downstairs.
At that moment, in Future Tech's negotiation room—
Sabretooth Victor glared at the suit-and-tie man, snarling with fury.
If the Stone Colossus and Poisonfire weren't holding him back, he swore he'd shred the man with his claws.
The man looked at Victor with naked disgust, as if staring at a wild beast.
"See? A monster is a monster—knows only fists."
He sneered, glancing playfully at everyone else in the room.
There were humans here, and there were mutants.
While the mutants glared at him in anger, even some of Future Tech's human employees, though furious at the man, showed a flicker of fear at the sight of Victor's extended claws.
"What's going on?"
Erik appeared at the door. Seeing Victor's claws out, his eyes flashed. "Victor."
Victor shot him a resentful glance, growled low, and retracted his claws.
"What happened?"
Erik swept the room with a cool gaze.
"What happened?" the man echoed with a cold laugh. "Your employee tried to kill me. Terrifying. I wonder how the media will report this tomorrow."
Erik didn't even look at him, as if the man didn't exist.
"Poisonfire," Erik said evenly, "tell me."
Poisonfire took a long breath, forcing down his anger. "This gentleman put his hands on Melissa. When she refused, he insulted her. Victor stepped in to stop him, and the man called Victor a beast—said all mutants are monsters."
Melissa was one of their employees—a young girl whose appearance had changed, sporting cat ears and a tail. Before joining Future Tech, she'd had a rough life, so she cherished her job.
Erik's eyes chilled as he turned to the man.
The man glared back. "What are you looking at? Is this how you do business?"
"I came to discuss raw materi—"
"Get out." Erik's voice was glacial. "We don't cooperate with trash."
The man froze. He hadn't expected Erik to dare say that. Future Tech needed his materials badly—or so he believed.
His eyes turned venomous. "You'll regret this."
"Get. Out."
Metal in the room shivered faintly as Erik spoke.
The man's body jolted; he scrambled for the door.
"Just let him go?"
Victor asked, unwilling, and the others were just as furious.
Erik drew a deep breath and said to Soundwave, "Go comfort Melissa."
He paused. "I'll handle the rest."
With that, he turned and left.
This wasn't the first time… nor would it be the last.
Erik strode back to his office. Standing before the floor-to-ceiling window, he looked down.
That same man had just exited the building and was heading for his car.
Erik's gaze hardened. As the man neared the door, his trousers slipped from his hips and tangled around his ankles, sending him sprawling—his head cracked against the car with a thud.
Blood immediately streamed down his forehead.
Erik clenched his fist, and the car shuddered.
With a single thought, he could make the vehicle crush the man to death.
But…
Erik took a long breath and snapped his hand open.
In the next instant, the car door flew wide and smacked the man in the face.
And that was as far as it went.
He could not truly kill him.
There were too many eyes near Future Tech. One misstep, and all their efforts would be wasted.
He inhaled again, trying to tamp down his anger.
A few seconds later—
Bang!
He couldn't help slamming a fist onto the desk.
This was the reality they faced.
They did everything they could to integrate, to follow the rules, yet some people—because they were mutants—still pushed them to the margins.
Fortunately, more and more people had shown them goodwill lately.
Otherwise, with no hope in sight, he might truly have been unable to carry on.
Erik exhaled a weary sigh.
Things were hard on their side, and at the X School, change was also slowly unfolding.
With the Brotherhood no longer an enemy, the School still tried to present itself as harmless and continued sending X-Men to handle threats—gestures of goodwill. Even so, many still lumped them together with Future Tech as a danger.
Irritated, Erik raked a hand through his hair. A few strands came loose. He muttered, "Charles must be shedding more than I am."
...
X School.
Charles stood at his office window, smiling as he watched the lively playground.
As long as he saw those children's bright faces, he felt that everything he had done so far had been worth it.
The School was struggling, yes—but it was better than before.
Suddenly, his brows arched slightly.
He sensed a familiar presence arriving on campus.
The man was an ordinary human, but as Ororo's friend, he had been visiting often lately.
From what Charles had observed, the man seemed quite taken with Ororo.
"Heh. Chasing one of my students won't be so easy."
Charles murmured, pride glinting in his eyes.
Ororo and Jean, his earliest students, had become more and more outstanding over the past three years.
Smart, beautiful, powerful—simply perfect.
He knew many at the School liked them and had even tried to pursue them.
So far, none had succeeded.
While Charles quietly probed the situation outside, the man on the motorcycle parked at the edge of the grounds. He removed his helmet, revealing a dark, weathered face.
His features were firm, his eyes deep; with a strong physique, he was undeniably attractive.
At that moment, his gaze was filled with Ororo. When she noticed him and walked his way, he couldn't help but grin.
"Ororo."
He stepped forward, hugged her, and kissed her.
Seeing this, the students on the field whooped and hollered.
Ororo turned, raised a fist at them, and a spark of lightning danced across her hand.
They clammed up at once.
Ororo gave a soft hum, a sweet smile on her face as she looked at the man. "Back again already?"
"Missed you."
He made no effort to hide his feelings.
Though he was five, six—maybe seven or eight—years older than Ororo, he had fallen for her at first sight.
Ororo smiled even more brightly, wrapped an arm through his. "Where to?"
"I booked a restaurant. I'll take you. You're still on break, right?"
Ororo nodded.
He handed her a helmet, and the two put them on and rode off together.
Watching this scene, Charles' lips twitched madly in the office.
(End of Chapter)