"How bad?" I asked.
She shrugged, but her expression told me enough. "Bad enough. His parents closed the shop today. Maybe long time."
For a while, neither of us said anything. Just the sound of oil sizzling in the wok, the scrape of metal, the hum of the city outside. Aunt Zhang glanced at me and sighed. "Don't go doing anything stupid, ah?" I wasn't gonna do anything stupid, I was just wondering if it really was some sort of blowback from ABB or perhaps a result of the Umajon stunt bomb he threw. Before I knew it? Lunchtime was here.
Lunch hour hit like a Zerg rush.
I'd barely tied my apron before the front door jingled, then jingled again and again and again and again!! The damn door then stayed open because there were too many people. A flood of aunties, office ladies, and giggling teenage girls poured into Lao Zhang's like it was a BTS pop-up café instead of a noodle shop.
Behind them trailed their boyfriends, each one looking like they'd just been forced to watch their girlfriends thirst over the enemy team. Hey, fuck... It's not my fault, okay? I really think I dont even look that good?
"Jason-ah!" Aunt Zhang called from behind the counter, voice gleeful and wicked. "You roll noodle, quick! All the girls come see your noodle skills!"
I swear to god she knew what she was saying. It was times like this that I wondered if it really was just my face, or if this world was governed by a higher standard of beauty than it used to be. Maybe my sense is off. Was I really that charming? There's no way a haircut could do this right? I know I look good, but not that good! Korean boy! I was wrong!! I need you back here!!
The aunties started cooing immediately.
"Wah, look at those arms!"
"So strong, no wonder the dough is so smooth!"
"Handsome boy, you single ah?"
Somewhere in the back, one guy groaned audibly and muttered something about switching to eating at Lung's ramen stand instead of here while staring daggers at me. Am I gonna get jumped? Those are ABB guys, right? I'm so gonna get jumped later...
I focused on the dough like my life depended on it and ignored all distractions, just rolling dough, folding noodles, slicing spring onions, pretending the heat on my neck was from the wok and not the entire female population of the East Side watching me like I was some kind of endangered species.
Even Mr Zhang was cackling like mad, "hahahaha! Hiring you is the best Lengchai!" and kept stirring the pot with one hand and then turning to the work, making fried rice with one hand. The man is a maestro in the kitchen, but come on! Dont enjoy my suffering!
Then Aunt Zhang made it worse.
"See, see! I told you haircut makes him handsome! Before, he looked like a refugee from a garbage can. Now, like a TV actor!" she cackled, smacking my shoulder with a ladle. "Almost as good-looking as that Korean bread boy. Almost!"
I groaned. "Auntie, please."
"What? You don't like compliments? You should thank me! I save you from looking like an unwashed caveman!"
The girls giggled even louder. One actually held up her phone like she was trying to take a sneaky picture. The boyfriends' collective scowls could have spelt trouble for me. First sign of rush hour done, I'm gonna bail the hell out.
The lunch rush ended with the clang of the last ladle hitting the pot. My wrists ached, my apron looked like it had been through a war.
Still, the shop was packed to the brim with people today, at least more than yesterday. Aunt Zhang was grinning ear to ear as she counted bills, her husband mumbling something about having to order more noodles next time. It was nice.
"Jason made us money for a whole week in half a day, I can get used to this" The husband said, sitting down and fanning himself with a Chinese fan.
"Haiya, dont make a habit out of it, He's just temporary liao, temporary, okay? till nephew comes for part-time here" Right, they have a nephew who is currently studying at Brocton Bay University. So I only have a part-time job for a whole week. It isnt so bad.
When I went to hang up my apron, Aunt Zhang called out to me.
"Jason-ah, wait."
She came over with a small fruit basket filled with apples, pears, and some grapes, all wrapped up in red plastic, like it came straight out of a care package from an asian starter gift basket. Why is she giving this to me?
"Can you go hospital?" she said, pressing the basket into my hands before I could even answer. "The boy from the bakery is still there. Bring fruit to him and others. Tell them Aunt Zhang says Get well soon."
I blinked. "Auntie, must I have to? I dont know anyone. Also, aren't most of those people from the ABB?"
She gave me that don't argue with me look that could probably stop an Endbringer in its tracks. "You big boy. You can handle some gangsters. Go, go."
And that was that. I got voluntold by an old lady armed with a ladle. Again. She gave me my pay for the day, this time and an extra two hundred. I guess they really made a lot today, huh? Not to mention extra money for the bus ride and something else.
I decided to stop by near the tech shop since I bought one of the fancier phones I swiped from yesterday's raid, reformatted and threw the SIM away. I paid the cash to get my new number for the prepaid and bail the fuck away heading to the hospital after asking for directions and taking the bus there.
While sitting, I got the phone working and found out that the phone, despite looking a little different, works almost similarly to the phones back home, so I'm familiar with it. First things first.
Checking some news on myself and stuff. got myself registered as an ordinary user first. No need to file myself as a cape.
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♦ Topic: A New Thread
In: Boards ► New Cape Sighted in Brockton Bay
Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Posted On Jul 19th 2011:
So, this is gonna sound insane, but I swear it's true.
4 days ago, during that mess at the Boardwalk Mall, a guy apparently calling himself "Dreamhack" soloed a group of armed gang members who tried to rob the place. Called themselves the Chorus gang. Reports say he stopped them before the PRT or New Wave even arrived.
According to people on the scene, he disarmed at least half a dozen thugs, subdued them with a steel pipe, and somehow shrugged off bullets before it hit some goon's butt while Panacea was healing an injured Glory Girl. No flashy costume, just a hoodie, a bandana and some cheap plastic sunglasses. And he got his hero name on the hoodie too.
I thought Glory Girl was invincible, apparently not, or it's just a bad power interaction. Chorus gang sported some sort of sonic-based tinkertech, but none of that tech worked, as Dreamhack here beat them before they could even use it. Honestly, the takedown is quite methodical if you watched the full CCTV video.
Witnesses said he looked "tired and hungry," which… same, honestly.
What's weird, though? The way he fought. Someone posted stills from the mall's damaged CCTV (before PRT took it down), Trained? or just really precise at dodging?
Now the speculation train's rolling:
PRT ENE hasn't confirmed anything, but they did scrub every camera feed from that area, and Piggot's office released a statement this morning about an "unregistered parahuman acting independently without proper oversight."
Translation: They're not happy.
(Showing page 1 of 6)
►
Replied On Jul 19th 2011:
Maybe we should let him keep doing what he's doing.
►
Replied On Jul 19th 2011:
He's not a hero, he's a vigilante. Big difference. Still, props for saving Panacea.
►MissMilitiaAlt
Replied On Jul 19th 2011:
You all joke, but if he's not registered, PRT will come knocking. Enjoy your memes while you can.
►Nod
Replied On Jul 19th 2011:
Dont seem like someone with powers if you ask me, just a scrawny guy taking down six armed men, still impressive, but are we sure he's parahuman?
►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
Replied On Jul 19th 2011:
The Director seems to think so. I can't disclose much, but Dreamhack has shown significant proof of being a Parahuman after an altercation with another rogue cape just recently.
►
Replied On Jul 19th 2011:
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
.....
Huh, not much information about me, surprisingly. I thought at least there would be some hoohaw with Shadow Stalker or sightings of SCVs in the trainyard or something. I wonder what else is different around. Isnt it July? Did they catch that Singer Bad Canary yet? I'm actually really curious how that turned out. They say some of her songs kinda sound like Swifty and oh boi~ i am a huge swifty fan. Call me Maybe? Dangit. There's no Swifty here sigh…
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♦ Topic: A New Thread
In: Boards ► [PHO] Bad Canary's New Single "Bad Days" Just Dropped ! Holy Hell She's Going Places!
Posted On May 26th 2011:
Okay, capes aside for a second — Bad Canary just dropped her newest single, "Bad Days", and it's incredible.
That heavenly, raw voice and emotion. I don't know if it's just me, but her lyrics hit different this time. There's this bitter edge to them, like she's mad at the world but still refuses to give up.
Check one of the chorus sounds like-
"If I fall, I'll fall screaming / If I break, I'll still sing /
You can burn my wings down / I'll still feel the wind."
(Showing page 1 of 1)
►Lolitup
Replied On May 26th 2011:
I swear she's the only artist who can sound angry and hopeful at the same time. "Bad Days" is what I wish half the radio pop sounded like.
►
Replied On May 26th 2011:
If you haven't heard Bad Days yet, do yourself a favor.
It's the kind of song that makes you believe even when everything else feels like it's falling apart.
..........
Yeah, I dont need to scroll anymore.
Her song? eh…I'd give it a 50% of being swifty. Some of it sounded like Kelly Clarkson if Kelly did Sunday Pop with country. I mean it ain't bad? Honestly, it's nice. I dig it. I can see why she has a lot of fans, even later, after she gets the birdcage.
I didn't really follow the cape celebrity scene, but Bad Canary was one of the known parahumans, or maybe she wasn't. It doesn't seem like people know she's a parahuman, just a girl who loves music. The comments were all the same: awe, emotion, a weird kind of reverence. The girl must be really good if she got Pop Idol status like Swifty back home.
I check out one og the clips, someone posted a grainy video from the back of a crowd, the girl on stage lit by a single hanging bulb. Her voice filled the tiny speakers, cracked and fierce all at once. There was something real in it singing that reminds me of the good ol pop back in the early 90s. Nsync candy pop with a little southern, just like a Swifty song. She's the equivalent of Swifty in this world.
"Guess not everyone with power needs armour. With catchy music, one can simply rule the world" Hmm..should I consider making music as well? There's some music that just dont exist here. Video game music and gacha music, for example, and it is 2010. Did Mumble rap exist yet? Do I want to introduce such a thing to this world and ruin music for rappers? hehehe...
I just might.
It is catchy, though. The Londoners really know how to rile the music scene up, just like the era of the Beatles.
The world outside Brockton Bay was still moving according to this forum, still creating, still living, but I might need to do something about her future murder.
" I can only change the stuff that I know and can control. Do I have the means to do it?"
Now that's an entirely different matter.
The hospital wasn't far. just a few bus stops away, but the atmosphere changed fast. I have my backpack in case I need to change. Modified the helmet and now it's a miniaturised visor with a click of a button, the side, boom! Instant makeshift ghost helmet. Comes with a rebreather, too.
I may need to rework the coms using the local ISP network later, now that I have a SIM card, and I can start working on the local OS. For now?
Just the UED local intra-network piggybacked by SCV1, if shit goes bust. Id cape away and run like hell, of course. Let's hope nothing happens.
The deeper I went, the quieter it got. Fewer people, fewer families walking around. More young men are standing in groups. ABB colours. Red and green. By the time I reached the hospital entrance, I could already feel eyes on me.
Two ABB thugs leaning by the gate, one smoking, one scrolling through his phone. They gave me the "you one of us?" look. I gave them the please ignore me, I'm holding fruit look and walked right in.
Inside, the air stank faintly of disinfectant and cheap perfume.
The waiting area was packed with people, but not with your usual patients. These were ABB boys, the same ones I'd hit with the Umojan grenades last night. Some had bandages around their heads, and others were coughing into masks. A few still looked dazed. Perhaps the dose needs some tuning; I didn't expect that this would be that bad.
"Oh, crap…" I muttered under my breath. "Yeah, I did this."
The irony wasn't lost on me while walking into a hospital full of people I'd personally knocked out cold, carrying a basket of get-well-soon fruit like some kind of guilty saint.
One guy near the corner coughed so hard his chair rattled, and another complained loudly in Korean that roughly translated "dumb asshole threw a gas bomb"
and shibal…my fav Korean swear word. Dont leave home without it Shibal.
I know what that means.
I adjusted the hood of my jacket, lowered my head, and kept moving. Just another good Samaritan delivering fruit, definitely not the guy who turned half of them into human pepper shakers yesterday. If the universe had a sense of humour, it was laughing its ass off right now.
I had no clue which room the baker kid was in, and asking the nurse meant pulling attention I didn't want. ABB eyes were everywhere outside the doors, in the hallways, sitting by the vending machines, pretending to read manga.
So I did the next best thing: I found the loudest ABB member and handed him Aunt Zhang's fruit basket.
He was a big guy, mid-twenties, shaved head, tracksuit way too tight on the shoulders. The kind of guy who probably spent more time lifting car parts than fixing them. He gave me a once-over and frowned.
"(Nǐshéi a? )Who are you?"
"Uh… just delivering this," I said, holding up the basket. "For everyone affected. From Lao Zhang's Noodles."
He blinked, then his expression softened slightly. (Ah, Lao Zhāng miànguǎn?) - Ah, Lao Zhang's place?"
I nodded and handed a basket to them.
(Tā rén bùcuò de.) They're good people," he muttered, taking the basket. Then he turned to another ABB thug sitting by the bench.(Xiao Lín, zhège shì miànguǎn sòng de.) Xiao Lin, this is from the noodle shop."
The other guy, a lean Japanese man with dyed brown hair and a scar on his cheek, glanced up. (Rao Chan? Ano futari no mise ka?) Lao Zhang? That old couple's shop?"
(Ng.) Yeah."
They both looked… calmer, almost nostalgic. Like everyone in this neighbourhood knew the old couple and didn't dare mess with them, except Daiichi apparently. What does that even mean?
Then the conversation shifted.
(De, dare ga yattanda?) So, who did this?" the Japanese man asked, his voice low.
The Mandarin speaker scowled. (Mā de, wǒmen dōu hái zài chá.) Damn it, we're still investigating."
(Tīng shuō shì xīn lái de jiāhuo, yí gè chuān hēi wàitào de.) Heard it was some new cape, wore a black jacket."
(Kuroi ka? dareka ano?) Black? Who is it then?"
(Duì ah.) Yeah."
( Sore ja, daredemo atehamaru daro.) That could be literally anyone here."
I forced myself to nod politely, like I had no idea what they were talking about but I understood itt. Japanese, Korean, Mandarin I know it all. I'm the usual south east asian polyglot. Knows ten different languages but still can't speak a lick of proper English if push comes to shove, while internally I was screaming Oh, hell no. Someone saw, of course someone saw, duh. But eh.. at least they dont have anything to go on, so that's great!
Yeah, yay for me!
The Mandarin speaker sighed and turned back to me. (Xièxiè nǐ ah.) Thanks, man."
I raised my hands, trying to look harmless. "(Ah, Bu ke ci^) Dont mention it."
He nodded. (Tā shì hǎo rén. Nǐ yě xiǎoxīn diǎn, wàimiàn zuìjìn luàn de hěn.) She's a good person(Madam Zhang). You be careful too. The city's getting messy lately."
I forced a smile. (Wo zhidào, Xièxiè nǐ) "Yeah, I know. Thanks."
As I walked out of the hospital, I could still hear their conversation fading behind me, Mandarin and Japanese overlapping in a low murmur:
(Zhǎodào tā yǐhòu zěnme bàn?) What do we do when we find him?"
(Korosu ni kimatteru daro.) What do you think? We kill him."
I didn't need a translation for that one.
Time to walk faster.
I was halfway to the exit when I heard raised voices coming from one of the rooms down the hall. A woman's voice, it was sharp and emotional, the kind you hear when someone is disappointed in something,
Hmm..sounds very asian. Someone is arguing in rapid Korean-accented English. A man's voice replying in tired tones, low but heated.
I slowed down. Something about the cadence caught my attention. When I peeked inside and my little heart jumped a little, I found him.
It was the baker kid.
He was sitting up in bed, bandages around his shoulder and head, an IV drip running. His parents stood by the door, faces tense, looking at their son; both looked like they hadn't slept in days. The father was rubbing his forehead, voice rough. "We paid them already, Jin-ho. Every month! Why do you go and join them, huh?!"
The mother shot back, "What if they come again? You think money is enough to stop Lung's people?! He's trying to help us!"
"Help?" the father snapped, his hand trembling. "You call this help?! He almost died!"
The kid Jin-ho, apparently, stayed quiet for a moment, looking down at his blanket. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft.
"Appa… Umma… I didn't have a choice."
The mother's anger melted into something smaller, sadder. "What do you mean, no choice?"
"They said if I joined, they'd give me more money. Real money. Enough so we could leave Brockton. Maybe… maybe open a bakery somewhere else. Boston, maybe." His eyes flicked between them, desperate for understanding. "I just… wanted us to get out and help my girls out, I dont want them to go into prostitution...you understand, right? What if Mom was forced into it?"
The father's jaw clenched. "So you sell yourself to them for what? For promises?! Nowhere is safe! Not even in Boston! You dont know anything! T-those girls are taking advantage of you!"
"Appa-"
"No!" The old man's voice cracked. "I worked my whole life so you wouldn't have to kneel to men like them! What's the point?! You need to take care of yourself first! Other people dont matter! Only my son!"
The boy shakes his head, "How could I...There's no way I could leave anyone like that...I thought you would understand!"
The mother tried to reach for his arm, whispering something in Korean, too soft for me to catch. The husband shook her off and left the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall. The door shut behind him, and the silence that followed was heavier than anything else I'd heard today.
The mother sat down beside Jin-ho and stroked his hair, tears gathering in her eyes. "We'll figure something out. Just… don't do anything stupid, okay?"
He nodded weakly.
I stayed outside, leaning against the wall, pretending to scroll through my nonexistent phone while emotions ran a little complicated, eavesdropping like this.
So that's how it was. He hadn't joined the ABB because he wanted to be a gangster; he'd joined because this city didn't give him any other option for his girlfriends and his family. Because the people who were supposed to protect folks like him were too busy dealing with capes and paperwork.
Brockton Bay really was a broken machine.
I leaned against the wall, arms folded, mind half a mile away. The parents had finally gone, leaving behind the faint echo of disappointment and exhaustion. It's things like this that made you think if what he did was even serving any point. The root cause of the matter isnt gone, it just left the aftermath piling after a problem that still persists.
I was about to head off when movement caught my eye through the small window in the door. Jin-ho was still sitting up, staring down at the box of bread his parents brought from the bakery. His hand hovered over one of the buns inside, probably something his parents brought from the bakery before everything went south.
He reached out and touched it, and the bread shimmered.
Ahh fuck.
He triggered, didn't he? And it's all his fault.
The soft, spongy bun started breaking apart, not crumbling like stale food, but disintegrating. Light, faintly golden, ran across its surface like heat distortion before it just… vanished. Not a crumb left.
"What the hell?" I muttered under my breath, pressing closer to the glass.
Jin-ho stared at his hand, wide-eyed. "Shibal saekiya?! (Fucking son of a bitch?!)" He shouted in Korean.
Then it happened again. Another roll on the bedside tray began to glow, faintly at first, then the entire thing solidified, the air around it warping slightly. It looked like bread, but… wrong. He picked it up experimentally, and the damn thing cracked the ceramic plate beneath it with a sharp KLANG!
The sound made him freeze, and his head whipped toward the door.
Our eyes met.
For a long, awkward second, neither of us said anything. Okay.."y-yo Hubae, what's up?"
I must've looked like a deer caught in headlights, hehe, that's kinda funny. With my hoodie up and my arms stiff like a wooden stick, I was probably the creepiest guy to be caught peeking into someone's hospital room. He, meanwhile, looked like someone who just turned a baguette into a medieval mace. Not gonna, that's kinda cool in a weird breadlike concept.
"…You saw that, didn't you?" he finally said, voice barely audible.
I nodded slowly. "…Yeah."
He looked down at the overgrown bread brick, then back at me. "Do you think I'm crazy?"
I tilted my head, trying to look calm even as my brain scrambled. "Not the craziest I've seen." It really wasn't.
That got a small, stunned laugh out of him. "How would you know? You ain't a cape"
I sighed and rubbed my neck. "So… congratulations, I guess. You just joined the club."
"The… club?"
"Yeah." I gestured vaguely. "The 'Congratulations, you're a parahuman' club. Perks include trauma, bad PR, and a fifty-fifty chance the PRT shows up to recruit you or something, if they find out."
He stared at his hands like they'd just betrayed him. "This… this can't be happening."
I shrugged. "Well, it is. And for what it's worth…" I pointed at the half-neosteel plating underneath my hood "You might want to listen to what I have to say"
That actually got a snort out of him, even through the panic. Still, as I turned to leave, a thought gnawed at me. A kid with bread powers. In Brockton Bay.
Ji-ho blinked, still a little dazed. Up close, he looked even younger than I thought. seventeen, maybe eighteen topsbut something was striking about him. Dark hair that fell just right, sharp jawline, tired eyes that had probably seen more than they should've. Kinda looks like Sungjinwoo if you squint a little.
This is him. Pretty baker boy.
If life had been kinder, he would've been working a part-time job and getting confessed to by half his school, not caught up in ABB nonsense.
"I'm Jason," I said, taking a step closer and pulling the chair near the bed. "You're Ji-ho, right? Park Ji-ho?"
He nodded slowly. "Yeah. You were at the noodle shop… right? Ugh...shit."
"Ho-ho, My Hubae actually remembers my suffering." I gave him a small grin. "You make damn good bread, by the way. Probably shouldn't weaponise it after this, though."
That got a weak laugh out of him, the tension easing just a bit. "You saw that, huh, Sunbae? Wait, hold up. Are you sure you're older than me?"
"Definitely older than your flowery dough ass, besides. With bread that glows, I know a thing or two about bread synthesis." I said, lowering my voice. "Look, what you did back there? Sure, it was an accident. You know that. But it's not the end of the world, either, getting powers ain't so bad."
Ji-ho frowned, suspicious but curious. "You mean… being a cape? How is it not? I'm asian, I'm gonna get recruited and be chained to some basement by the ABB."
I nodded. "Yeah. I'm one of them, too. You dont see me get chained, do you? I still work at the Noodle shop like a civilian, my cape life dont matter if nobody knows shit about it. "
His eyes widened slightly. "You're...what, a hero? Never seen an asian hero in Brocton Bay"
I smirked at that. "Fuck no, I ain't gonna wear no damn spandex and parading with my kukuchiao dangling out in the open, Screw thatJust…an independent for now." I reached up and tapped the side of my neck where my armour's exo-skeleton with its mini servo's usually sat hidden under my hoodie. "I go by Dreamhack. Not much of a codename, but it sticks."
"So you are a Tinker?" he repeated, the name rolling awkwardly off his tongue in his husky, accented voice. "Why tell me?"
I shrugged, leaning back a little. "Because trust goes both ways. You've got power now. You're scared, confused, maybe thinking of running. I've been there."
He stared at his hands again, flexing them slowly like he could still feel that strange energy running under his skin. "My parents… they don't know what to do. ABB will find out. Lung will and-"
"Hah! That oversize lizard doesn't need to know," I cut in, firm but calm.
Jiho scoff at what I just said, " He's a literal dragon, what can you do? He fought an endbringer!"
"Listen, Ji-ho. You've got a choice here. You can run, hide, or pretend this never happened. Or…"
He looked up.
"…you can learn what it means to have this power and not let people like Lung decide who you become."
The boy was silent for a long moment. The only sound was the distant hum of hospital equipment and the faint chatter of nurses in the hallway.
Finally, Ji-ho spoke. "Why do you care? You don't even know me."
I smiled faintly. " I'll tell you, but not here. You wanna know how to make a problem like Lung go away? I'll show you."
He looked away, eyes distant. "…You really think there's a better way? The Abb controls this part of the city"
I pushed myself up from the chair and nodded once. "I think once you see what I have to offer, you might start believing that Lung isn't the bigger problem here."
Ji-ho looked down at the bread-brick still in his hand, then laughed under his breath. "Guess I should start by not breaking plates, I'm still sceptical by the way. The Noodle guy, who I thought understood me, is also a cape. small world we live in."
I grinned. "What? You being the bread Oppa of Brockton Bay? heh-Good start, Breadman."
That got an honest laugh out of him this time, loud, clear, and tired but real. "Fuck that name, it's lame. Hey? You're older than me, right? Should I start calling you Oppa?"
Ahem, "Fuck no. I'm pretty sure you're just younger than me by a year. Just to be sure. How old are you?"
"Eighteen", he replied nonchalantly.
Damn, Eighteen already looking like that? fuck hormones.
"Ever heard of the name Sung Jin Woo? arise?" I asked.
"Nope. Who dat? Some kind of Korean Idol, I should know?" he tilted his head, the tilt that could melt any girl's heart. Yep. Solo levelling protagonist got nothing on this kid.
I shake my head, "Never mind, you just look like him a little. You're discharging later? "
He shakes his head," Not sure, the doctors are checking to see if the gas had anything sinister, some of the guys here are still knocked cold, I might need to stay for a day longer for observation."
Damn it, never count on a Terran product to know subtlety. This is gonna be bad for optics. I bet the PRT is having a field day, or whatever. Let them sus it out. I scribbled my number on the back of a visitor slip and tore it off, sliding it across Ji-ho's bedside table.
"Here," I said. "That's my number. If you get discharged today, come meet me at the trainyard, just past the old freight bridge. You can't miss the place, soon it will have a huge ass building that looks like a scrapyard mated with a construction site."
Ji-ho blinked, glancing between me and the paper. "Trainyard? Isn't that… ABB territory?"
"Fuck no, it's my territory," I admitted, it's actually no one's territory till Trainwreck claims it, tucking my hands into my hoodie pockets. That got me thinking, where the hell is Trainwreck? I haven't seen the bugger despite my claiming his hunting spot.
He frowned thoughtfully, eyes flicking to the window as he looked down at the box of bread, afraid of touching it without activating his bread powers. "You sound like you've done this before. Why are you so confident? Where was this confidence coming from? Beating Lung? You might be crazier than I thought."
"I've done a lot of things before," I said dryly. "Some I regret. Some I'd do again. Teaching someone not to screw up the way I did? That's one I wouldn't mind repeating. I'll teach you all about the hidden rules and the unwritten ones about being a cape; it's my job as your senior."
The kid actually smiled a little at that, though his eyes still carried that heavy uncertainty. "Alright, shibal. You got me curious," he said quietly. "If they let me out today, I'll come."
"Good." I gave him a quick nod, pushing off from the chair. "Don't bring anything ABB-related if you can help it. Just…uhh… be you."
Before I could say anything, a gaggle of screaming asian teenagers came barging into the ward, all loud and screaming "opppaaaa~!" There he was, the bread kid himself, sitting up in bed like some kind of wounded idol surrounded by his groups, all his uddenly as I was pushed away-I take it all back. Dont be you. Is this the real you?!
Da fauuuk? Oi-
Suddenly, his hair is perfectly tousled, hospital gown somehow stylishly draped, surrounded by a small crowd of giggling girls holding boxes of pastries and juice boxes like offerings to a deity. What the hell is up with this sudden transformation?! The kid has that rizz mode turned off, and now it's on again?!
"Oppa, did it really explode right next to you?" one asked, eyes wide.
"Yeah," Ji-ho said, voice low, husky, practised. "But, you know, I shielded the others from the blast. Guess I was lucky."
Shielded the others? Since when? I had to drag your ass so you won't puke after getting knocked out! This kid was rizzing his way to recovery. This fucking Shibal lying prick.
Another girl gasped. "You're so brave!"
Ji-ho gave that little smirk, the kind of smirk that says I know without actually saying it. The guy was soaking in attention like sunlight. I swear, if he had sunglasses on, it'd be a full photoshoot.
I cleared my throat. "Wow. Didn't know hospitals double as fan meet-and-greets. The fuck is happening?"
The girls turned, startled. Ji-ho looked up at me, recognition flickered, and his easy charm faltered for half a second. Ji-ho rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to be humble. "Ah, you know how it is. Just… trying not to make a scene..these girls came to see me and all that."
Kid's got zero shame, I thought, fighting a grin.
He leaned toward me when the girls got distracted comparing photos of him on their phones. "So, uh, you saw that? Girls..this is my Sunbae from the Noodle shop. Meet Jason," he whispered.
"Yeah, whatever. Dont care." I said. "And I gotta say, if charming your way out of trouble was a power, you'd be Endbringer-class. You're flirting your way through life like a rom-com protagonist with a concussion…Oi, Junior. Are you flexing? Is this your version of flexing towards your Senior?"
He snorted, trying not to laugh, then shrugged. "Hey, a guy's gotta cope somehow. Besides, better this than lying here bored. Sunbae, do you need a girlfriend? I can hook you up"
"I dont need a girlfriend!" I barked! The nerve of this kid!
" My Sunbae is Maidenless"
Oi, Dont you dare quote Elden Ring here. How the heck does he even- Elden Ring dont exist here!
I gave him a small nod, half-smile tugging at my lips. "Just… don't start a cult in here. Whatever happened to the bro code? Bro's before ho's?"
He took another sip of his drink, completely unfazed. "Hey, don't knock the hustle. It's part of the brand. Bread Boy's gotta keep morale high."
"Bread Boy," I repeated, disgusted. "You're actually leaning into the nickname now? Oi, Hubae, aren't you a little shameless right now?"
"Hey, viral fame doesn't build itself." He smirked. "You saw the comments on the new video, right? Half the city's saying I'm the hot baker from ABB territory, I even posted yours too after that stint you did at Laozhang"
You did what!?
The fuck?!
"Oi..you did what?"
"Noodle boy- that's you Sunbae,, He pointed matter-of-factly. He called one of the girls, "Jinni-can you show my Sunbae here the clip I uploaded yesterday?"
Jinni was a Korean girl, she was wearing ABB colours unlike the rest of them, a little rough but still pretty, and she seemed to have a crush on Jin-ho here as she slid down towards Jin-ho while she smiled at me, showing me a video of…me. Making noodles. Like some cheap YouTube reel.
"Oi…fucker. Take that down," I crossed my arms and whispered towards him while Jinni gave me a raised eyebrow, and I ignored her since the matter is serious. "You realise this kind of attention gets bad people interested, right? ABB, Empire, and even the PRT. You don't want to be on anyone's radar right now."
Ji-ho finally dropped the smirk, his tone softening a little. "Yeah, I get it. But… It's nice, you know? To have people look at me and not see some desperate kid working himself to death just to get by." He then came closer to whisper something, " I think we shouldn't. This could be our civilian cover."
"…Okay," I said after a pause. "But this is unnecessary risk; if somehow this blows over and our cover is blown, we are in deep shit. Can't you limit your charm output to sustainable levels?"
He grinned again. "Can't help it if I'm blessed."
"Blessed?" I sighed. "You're one croissant away from being unbearable."
He stood up, stretched, and handed me the rest of his bubble tea. "You need to relax, hyung. You've got that permanent war-face going. Here. Work with me, do some content with me, I think it will work."
He's not wrong. Having a public ID and a personal cape, one separate should definitely make things more transparent too if things go bust later on. Or maybe?
"What do you know about Mumble rap?"
That got him curious, "Tell me more, Sunbae"
We chatted for a while until it was late evening. The sun was going down, and the doctors were patrolling. The girls stayed, and somehow, all four of them have guardian slips to take care of the dude. Lucky bastards. Once the girls went out to buy dinner for Jinho, I explain everything I knew about cape culture, the unwritten rules, public cape profiles and about the PRT. He's a good listener and truly wanted to learn. He did turn another bread into Metal too. I took the tiny bun so I could scan it later.
Jinho's parents went back to bring in some clothes, but they won't be able to come tomorrow. Business still gotta go on after all, He did say they will visit during the nighttime visit since he still needs to stay for another day.
"Come by to my place when you're done, it's quiet now. But I can't be sure if it's gonna be peaceful in the future. Perfect place to lay low if you need a place to hunker down, talk without interruptions."
He stared at the paper like it was a live grenade. "Uhh yeah..sure. I'll think about it."
I met his gaze. "Nope, Nu-uh dont think about it, just do it, if you're serious about using that power, we can test it at my place, come later. Make your own judgement and see if I have what it takes, alright? Enjoy your….girlfriends.."
The girls just giggled after they came in, bringing in food "Oppaaaa~! We're back, ah, senior. Are you leaving?" one of the meeker ones asked. She forgot I was here again, wasn't she? Fuck this shi,t I'm out.
"He's all yours, girls. I'm bailin"
"Ah -Sunbae-!"
Before he could say anything, the swarm turned to him. Fucking bitch ass Korean kid. Fucking dude. Blessed, he said? I'm not maidenless…Motherfucker.
From afar, I could hear " You got hurt for us, Jinho, if only we weren't pressed into-" Jinho snapped at one of the girls ", Dont say that! Anything is better than doing that kind of work..Just dont worry and let me handle it..Okay? I'll protect all of you."
Motherfucker even rizz right!
I'm not envious of him, nu-uh. Not me.
Goddamn it, I miss my ex-wife. I hope she's well in the afterlife. At least she didn't get dragged into some goddess bullshit, too. Sigh…This does make me wonder. If Is there a heaven up there? Or do souls just get transmigrated like me? She's gonna be lonely up there without me.
I hope she can find peace and move on in heaven, even if I'm not by her side. Then again, who knows? I croaked first. As far as I know, she's still alive on Earth 246511. Sigh..
What the hell am I thinking?
Maybe… I just wanted to know if they are fine.
I wanted to know if his girls had any problems, but I can make an educated guess based on that conversation. Things ain't easy being him, huh? Big dream, Hubae, thinking about saving everyone like that…Perhaps he can once I rout the ABB out of the docks.
Only a matter of time, but that train of thought is best left when I have the method to do it. I was already heading toward the exit, reaching the lift towards the lobby. The hallway outside smelled faintly of antiseptic and cheap coffee.
It's weird how the ward dont smell that way. I passed a nurse who gave me a suspicious glance, probably because I still looked like I'd look the odd one out without gang colours, despite being asian.
Was it a good idea to tell the kid?
Maybe not, but if my experience taught me anything, Trust does go both ways.
If he decided to side with the ABB despite all of this? I'll just have to recruit the fucker by force and school his ass about it. This is just a courtesy call after all, and it's by chance.
I didn't think the kid would be triggered by the event. He might already suspect that I was the one responsible for the attack, or maybe not. There's a lot of independent villains around Brockton Bay, Circus, Chariot..even The Undersiders.
Tonight will be the time the Command Centre is done. With that, one of my core weaknesses will be gone permanently. I'll have a proper base to plan and tinker safely. I can start planning on how to deal with the ABB permanently too soon.
But Karma is a bitch.
Karma always has other plans, or it's probably just the world trying to screw up.
Or probably the Simurgh plan.
It's always a Simurgh plan one way or another.
Sigh...
When I got off the bus and started heading down the cracked asphalt road leading toward the trainyard, the first thing I noticed was the noise.
Not the usual kind, no, this was different. Heavy. Rhythmic. Like a steel drum being punched by a hydraulic press. It's not something I'm familiar with. Someone is here. And then I heard the SCV's mechanical voice through the comm ping in my ear.
"Warning. Hostile detected. Structural integrity compromised."
"Shit. Now who the fuck dared to attack my base?"
I broke into a jog, then a sprint, cutting past the half-built command centre. From a distance, I could see the unmistakable orange sparks of welding arcs in the air, except no one was supposed to be welding right now.
By the time I reached the depot's perimeter, the scene looked like something straight out of a bad Saturday morning cartoon.
One of my SCVs was half-tilted, missing a manipulator arm, still trying to body-check a seven-foot hulk of a man covered in patchwork armour and machinery. Hydraulic pistons hissed from his back. His arm looked like it'd been ripped straight out of a junkyard robot and bolted on with pure spite.
And behind him? My automated turret was sputtering bursts of low-calibre warning fire, trying its best to keep him back. Sparks flew as rounds pinged off his metal plating. For a zerg killing turret, his armour was surprisingly holding up. Those bullets could shred an ordinary Kevlar vest easily.
His power rating just raised up a notch in my books.
Trainwreck.
I remembered the name from PHO threads. Brockton Bay resident mad tinker musclehead. Power armour, no finesse, all brawl. The kind of guy who thought subtlety was certainly not needed and takes a backseat when handling things, the epitome of punch first, ask questions? fuck no, keep punching.
He was roaring now, swinging a steel pipe the size of a lamppost at my SCV. The machine barely rolled back in time, its servos whining in protest.
The man was built like a Juggernaut.
"Goddamn it," I muttered, pulling my hood up and slipping on my makeshift Ghost helmet I modified this morning. The visor hissed as it sealed, HUD flickering to life.
The machine beeped in acknowledgement and stumbled backwards, one of its arms sparking. The turret kept firing, short, disciplined bursts. Each shot dented his armour bit by by, I could see the man winching in pain. Tank busters, baby!.
Trainwreck turned toward me, red optics glowing faintly beneath the grime of his cobbled mask.
"You the mechanic?" he growled. "Nice toys you got here. Those monstrosities could actually dent my-"
I raised the P220 and shot him in the head as the bullet then ricocheted to the ground in front of his foot.
He blinked. "-okay, rude."
"Back off," I said, tone flat. "You've got about five seconds before I turn you into spare parts. That thing is an auto turret capable of penetrating tanks. This is my final warning, I dont wanna accidentally kill you."
"For the love of…Spare parts? Every new damn shitty Tinker thinks they can put me down. Fucking newbies," he laughed, voice crackling through the rebreather. "Buddy, I am spare parts!"
Then he charged.
The ground actually trembled when his boot hit the gravel. I dove sideways, the lamppost-pipe slamming down where I'd been standing, kicking up dirt and shards of metal. As the furnace in his backpack burned bright like a coal engine and some parts of his skin glowed, that looked like modified implants. Subdermal skin armour? Fancy cyberpunk shit.
Huh…was Trainwreck this capable in the story?
The P220 wasn't much against that armour, but the CMC silencer helped me fire quickly. I aimed for the joints, shoulder actuator, servo ports, and anything that looked like it could jam. The bullets sparked but did their job; he staggered, swatting at his own arm like it was misfiring.
The turret took the chance to pepper him with more rounds, forcing him to shield his face.
"Fucking Annoying turret gun," he grunted, turning his glare back to me. "Dumb owner."
"Yeah," I muttered, swapping magazines, "people keep saying that. But you're actually pretty good. Didn't think I would fight an anti-tank resistant cape this soon"
Then I palmed one of my improvised stun grenades, Umojan Ones, still got a few spares and lobbed it down toward his feet, lobbing it while he's busy blocking armour-piercing bullets from the Turrets. He should be glad I'm doing it in burst shot and not full-on Gatling.
That's for endbringers only when I dont need to hold back..You tho? Eh..still human. That means you need to breathe. And I have the perfect bio weapon.
It detonated in a burst of gas and electric static, a sharp pop-hiss that sent vapour swirling around his legs. The surge caught his hydraulics mid-motion and suddenly, all that angry machinery went stiff.
"Ah, hell," he groaned, his servos locking up. "What the hell is-coughing* Fuck! Did you poison me?!"
He toppled forward like a collapsing crane, hitting the dirt with a heavy thud. I stood there for a second, breathing through the filter of my helmet, watching as the SCV limped back into position and started scanning the area with its sensors.
And the turrets finally shot two of his arms off, cleanly, the metal junk he's holding falls like a giant steel armour. A makeshift shield he just made using all the scrap metal I have lying around.
Damn it. Note to self. Have SCV upgrades as soon as possible. Plated armour, and all the good stuff.
"Hostile neutralised", SCV1 said cheerfully. With its grappling arm missing, leaving the plasma Cutter arm waving around. My giant mech can't possibly be this cute…Still a giant mech, tho, at least 3 times my height.
"Yeah," I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "Let's make sure it stays that way. And maybe..." I glanced at the half-finished command centre in the distance, its floodlights flickering faintly. It's gonna be complete soon. "We start building walls next."
Trainwreck groaned in the dirt, still twitching faintly under the effects of the stun gas as we neutralise the bugger.
"Sorry, big guy," I muttered, turning away. "You picked the wrong junkyard today." Dragging a two-hundred-kilogram pile of cyborg muscle and bad attitude across gravel wasn't how I planned for today's evening.
The SCV didn't complain, though it just trundled along, hauling Trainwreck by one leg like it was moving a crate of scrap metal instead of a person. Every few meters, the tinker twitched, let out a mechanical groan, then went limp again. The stun gas was still doing its job. I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I followed the SCV into the supply depot.
"Yeah, just put him in the corner. Somewhere, he can't accidentally headbutt the stuff inside. I'm gonna move the rifle and anything he can use inside, except the MRE. You bring him in there."
"Acknowledged," and gave a curt beep.
SCV1 stopped midway to report something
"Command Centre structure completed"
Finally,
It's about damn time.