He was sleepless all night.
Vincent lay on the bed, almost watching the night outside his room's window gradually give way to the clear, cold morning light.
After all, too many exciting things happened last night, and he experienced more supernatural mysteries than in his entire sixteen years of life combined.
Also, in the bathroom.
When his aunt mentioned that he had awakened the superpower Lord of the Retinue, her attitude was not one of disgust, nor did she express opposition to him using this strange ability.
On the contrary, his aunt helped him think about and ponder the trigger conditions and maximum effectiveness of the Lord of the Retinue ability, looking as if she wanted to find an opportunity for him to conduct ability experiments, with a very strong exploratory intent.
Thus, it wasn't that Vincent couldn't hold back; it was simply that the theory was too tempting.
The area below his waist involuntarily rose, as if wanting to participate and express its opinion.
Vincent wasn't sure if his aunt had noticed it when she was helping him rinse the shampoo out of his hair.
He only remembered the words his aunt said at the end in the bathroom.
"Vincent, what kind of person do you want to be?"
"Don't rush to answer this question. When the time is right, I will give you a chance to choose.
No matter what you choose, I will support you from behind."
Vincent thought about it all night but still couldn't understand the meaning of the choice and support his aunt's words referred to.
What choice? How to support?
Or rather, Vincent didn't dare to think in one particular direction—his superpower, Lord of the Retinue, could only exert its true effectiveness with the help of a superpowered female.
However, the so-called help from a female required a series of 'demanding' trigger conditions, making it equivalent to a passive skill.
If there wasn't a suitable superpowered female nearby to help, it couldn't be used as a regular ability.
So, could the support his aunt mentioned possibly be… Recalling his aunt's proactive suggestion that "liquid is the medium, and the more medium there is, the stronger the effect," Vincent felt his body heat up again, which was the real reason he hadn't slept all night.
Fortunately.
Due to concern that Vincent's body might experience side effects from his ability, his aunt had already reported to the school early and requested a day off for him.
Coincidentally, from the school, Vincent learned that Gwen had also taken a day off.
In his mind, half of Spider-Woman's face from last night flashed.
Vincent thought for a moment and couldn't help but suggest to his aunt, "Gwen has a cold. I'll go see her after lunch."
Diana naturally knew Vincent's childhood playmate and immediately agreed, "That's fine, since it's so close anyway."
She looked around the messy and chaotic living room, "Later, I'll arrange for people to come over and repair the living room and add new furniture."
"Won't there be any trouble?" Vincent was a little worried.
The broken footprints, astonishing pits on the living room floor, and the furniture and windowsills he had forcibly broken were all clearly not ordinary damage from daily use to anyone with an observant eye.
If linked to the robbery that happened across the street downstairs last night, it might be exposed.
"No."
Diana looked composed.
She was wearing a very intellectual and beautiful white shirt and trousers, and said elegantly and calmly, "I still have some connections and know what kind of people to find to handle it."
"That's good." Vincent finally breathed a sigh of relief, then became a little curious about what kind of connections his aunt was referring to.
After lunch.
Vincent changed into his winter trench coat and headed to Gwen's house.
Just by crossing a pedestrian street, less than a hundred meters away, Vincent arrived at the adjacent community.
The security guard on duty at the community recognized him, greeted him, and opened the gate for him, "Little Vincent, it's been a while since you've been here, hasn't it?"
"Indeed, it's been quite a while."
Vincent shrugged.
It was fine when he was younger, but in recent years, Officer George had been increasingly wary of him, as if he were a thief.
Vincent even once suspected whether he had criminal genes and was being targeted.
Soon, he familiarized himself with the way to Gwen's door, but when he rang the doorbell, Vincent's heart suddenly felt a little anxious.
Fortunately, perhaps his luck had finally turned a little, as a gentle female voice came from inside: "Coming."
The door opened.
What greeted Vincent's eyes was a middle-aged woman around thirty-eight years old.
Although there were already some wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, her figure was still well-preserved and charming, and her lively and pretty appearance resembled Gwen's a lot.
It was Gwen's mother, Mary Jane.
"Vincent, you're here!" Contrary to how Officer George treated him, Mary was overjoyed to see Vincent at the door and immediately pulled him inside, "Quick, it's cold outside, come in and talk."
"I heard Gwen is sick, so I came to visit her." Vincent changed into house slippers at the carpet and scanned the room.
"Don't worry." Mary seemed to know what he was looking at and winked, "Gwen's father went out last night and hasn't returned yet."
"Ah, this." Vincent didn't know what to say.
Mary continued, "Gwen woke up with a fever this morning. I've already given her fever medicine, so she should be lying in bed asleep now."
"In that case, I'll head back first." Vincent looked at Gwen's tightly closed door, "Don't disturb her rest…"
"What disturb or not disturb?" Mary waved her hand, interrupting him, and urged, "You've come at just the right time, hurry in and see her!"
Mary pushed Vincent to Gwen's bedroom door and meaningfully instructed, "Don't worry, the room has good soundproofing, so even if something happens, no one outside will hear it."
"Uh, I'm just here to visit a sick person." Vincent's mouth twitched as he corrected her.
"Of course.
Of course, it's just a visit, a deep visit, just make sure you don't get sick yourself." Mary's hint was extremely strong; she opened the door, pushed Vincent in, and even helped close the door again.
Speaking of which, is this really Gwen's biological mother?
Vincent gave a wry smile, suddenly feeling that Officer George was relatively more normal.
He looked up; Gwen's room was still much the same as he remembered—clean, tidy, with a faint, fresh scent.
There were quite a few dolls, definitely a girl's room, only there were many more photos displayed on the bookshelf.
Hmm? Many of them were photos with him, even ones he hadn't developed himself.
Vincent couldn't help but look a few more times, then his gaze fell on a corner of the room.
The beautiful girl with golden hair resembled Sleeping Beauty, lying quietly on the bed covered by a down comforter as white as snow.
Her small, delicate nose and mouth emitted even breaths, and her fair, baby-like cheeks were slightly flushed.
Vincent walked closer to the bed, lowering his voice to call, "Gwen, Gwen?"
Gwen didn't respond, as if she was in a deep sleep.
Vincent confirmed that his hand wasn't very cold, then gently pushed aside her golden hair and placed his hand on the girl's forehead; a slight burning sensation came from his palm.
Although the temperature wasn't high, she definitely had a fever.
Vincent silently withdrew his hand.
He had come to visit Gwen for two reasons: first, naturally, to visit the sick, and second, to find out if Gwen was connected to the Spider-Woman he encountered last night.
Now, it seemed he had been mistaken.
Indeed, how could his childhood friend Gwen be that formidable Spider-Woman who swung through the city's high altitudes?
Vincent shook his head.
However, when his gaze fell on the girl's proximity, her slightly parted mouth, exhaling, perhaps partly due to the fever, was even redder and softer than usual, and he suddenly froze.
An idea, as if possessed, sprang into his mind.
Whether he was mistaken or not, wouldn't he know by trying?