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***
-Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh. Don't forget to breathe, get your Qi flowing along with the oxygen. Get used to the constant feeling of energy in your blood. Little by little, little by little. You need it to be with you all the time.
We had another session with my dear mentor. While Daredevil was at war with the city's Crime King, Wilson Fisk, Rand and I were chillin' in his dojo.
Training, meditation in a violent environment, sparring and fighting outings against small gangs and street gangs. It would take too long to list the full list, because Rand had a lot of imagination.
Danny could make me race a truck. Climb to the top of a bridge on my bare hands. Swim across a river with a load. Or show up at a bar on the outskirts at night and ask a crowd of bikers, "Who's the biggest Pindo here who loves iron horses between his legs?".
Sick bastard loved to turn his days inside out. He even came to my school and tried to put stuff in my classmates' food, and I had to stop him.
It was exhausting, and I was getting angrier and more aggressive every day. Rand seemed to notice my condition and, after promising me that today would be a regular meditation, he invited me to the dojo.
-This reminds me of something.
-Arrrrrrrr!Holding back the urge to jerk to the side, I smoothly turn my gaze to the side, trying not to move. My swollen and tired eyes meet the vertical pupils of my eyes, while the owner of the puma is still furiously reaching out with her ten-centimetre-long claws.
The huge cougar, or cougar as it is also known, hissed and yowled, hoping to squeeze through the narrow slits of the cage.
Shifting my gaze to the side, I bumped into an identical copy of the first one that had ambushed me, waiting for me to make the slightest mistake.
-Meditate, Shawn, you have to be able to focus in any situation. I've been poisoned by Bengal tigers and shot at with bows, so I'm still treating you well....
"I'll kill you."
Danny's smug face was more eloquent than any words. The asshole was enjoying himself, and if it wasn't for his impressive Qi control results, I would have tried to kill the asshole a long time ago, despite the slim chance of winning.
Yeah, I can't beat Rand in a fight. The fucking Martian cheater had so much Qi that he could literally use it to ventilate the room, releasing it in a stream of air.
I had to save every drop, carefully distributing it over my body so I wouldn't collapse to the ground. As practice showed, I could never master all the techniques in Rand's arsenal. And it's not about experience or skill, it's about the trivial amount of Qi. At best, I would only be able to accumulate as much as my sensei spends on a couple of the strongest techniques after forty years of constant training, and his reserve wouldn't even be half as much. A sad and unfair realisation.
But that's no reason to be upset. Good control, self-discipline, and exercise will easily bring me up to the level of a weak super soldier. Not a monster like Cap and his kind, but over the years, simple thugs with guns will no longer be a threat to me.
-Less thinking, more concentration, Shawn!
Poking one of the cougars with a stick, Rand made sure that two huge cats were now trying to reach my corpse.
***
-So you didn't find anyone," Pete waltzed around the room, twirling an imaginary girl in a dance, "for the promenade?
-No," I waved the annoying Parker away and languidly switched the TV channels, hoping to find something interesting, "the closer the date gets, the lazier I get...
-Old man, you shouldn't do that. It's the prom! You have to find someone, - since the situation at school settled down, and Peter himself stopped being pestered by bullies and envious people, he began to constantly press me, demanding that I find a girl for the evening, - it will be something to remember in my old age! And it's a once-in-a-lifetime event...
-Your other aunt's daughter has been to at least three graduations and nothing... -Your other aunt's daughter has been to at least three graduations and nothing...
-It's a lot easier for a girl to go to prom again.
-Yeah, and I even know how, heh-heh. Okay, okay, stop staring at me. If I don't go, I don't go, it's okay, it's my destiny," I was too lazy to deal with all of this. To pick up a costume, to accompany my date all evening, to dance, and then to drive her home. I'd rather watch TV or play the Star Wars beta.
Parker could see the struggle in his eyes. On one side stood his dear MJ and the long-awaited prom, and on the other his best friend and the long-awaited game....
I didn't even stand a chance.
For almost another hour Pete pressed on, slowly coming at me from all sides, pushing arguments and facts that I myself would later regret not going. Luckily, the redhead liked to take walks in the neighbourhood where they lived in the evening, so the young Casanova left my nerdy abode, hopping off to his date.
-Well, finally," I slipped my coat around my shoulders and tied my favourite scarf in a tight knot, "I'm sorry, old man, but New York doesn't like to wait....
-Shawn, I left some asparagus, so make sure you eat it," a knock on the door made me wince, dropping my hat on the bed, "if I see a bowl of greens in the fridge tomorrow morning, you'll be in trouble, young man.
-Erm. Yeah, sure, Mum. Thank you.
-That's right.
-What was I saying? -Yeah, right.
I put my hat on my head and stand with one foot on the window sill, crouching and gazing out at the city at night.
-Oh, Sean, are you out on the town again?
"Yeah, what's with the bad luck tonight?".
On the next landing of the fire escape stood our neighbour and distant relative of my mother's. He was sipping a cigarette, drinking tea and bourbon before going to bed.
-Good evening, Uncle Arnie," I poked my finger at the cigarette and stood up to my full height, extending my hand, "are you smoking again? If my aunt finds out you're smoking again, she'll shout at the whole house.-Ah-ah-ah, Linda's working tonight, so you can relax a little, -offering me one from the full pack, the man leaned back against the wall, squinting with pleasure at every puff and sip from the mug, -What about you? Look, if my wife finds out that I smoke, your mum will know that you're out at night in a fool's outfit.
-Yeah, yeah. You didn't have to remind me.
-I'm just in case," the man saluted me with his mug and smacked his lips in a relaxed manner, watching me walk away on the cable with a disinterested look, "Simon was unlucky to have a son. He'd rather join a gang than do that.
***
Damn streets filled with nightmares that creep into your soul every chance they get. Every step I take is filled with an event, as if the city itself has turned against me, preventing me from investigating.
I was going to visit a bombed-out pawnshop. The police had searched it up and down, so I didn't have to worry that my crooked hands would spoil evidence or interfere with the professionals.
I wanted to explore this place for myself. To dig, to dig into the tragedy headfirst, looking for even the tiniest clue.
My blood pounded in my temples, telling me that New York was not happy about my initiative. On the way to the scene, I encountered three robberies, one rape, and an attempted robbery.
It was as if people had gone mad, going off to break the law, disregarding all decency. Of course, that's just my imagination, because the reason for this is as simple as the ugly scavengers that come out on the streets at night.
Matt Murdoch. He's the reason why lawlessness is unstoppable on the streets of the city. He'd stirred up a hornet's nest in his war against Kingpin, and now, while the King of Thieves was busy with the devil, the scum, feeling the pressure on their necks loosening, were rushing here, eager to satisfy their filthy, lustful desires.
My fists were already bloody. The old glove on my left hand was torn and it was dangerous to get into any more fights. Too great a chance of leaving drops of my blood on the scene.
Shit... New York, what is happening to you? Why today and now?
The hat catches the tip of my ear, causing a painful cramp in my neck. A particularly clever individual hit me with a shoplifted fire extinguisher. Lucky he had even less strength in his hands than brains in his head, or I could have been part of the city by now. Another floating corpse washed away by violence and lawlessness.
Gotta finish the job. Examine the blasted pawn shop, look for clues, and just figure out exactly how the mutant hits its targets. My mind was a tattered canvas of memories, preventing me from getting to the bottom of it. Even with my knowledge of the world, I couldn't be sure who was hiding beneath the mask and tattered rags.
The familiar streets of Greenpoint looked completely different from the rooftops. From up here, my untrained eye could see the same predator lurking beneath the respectable image of a bedroom neighbourhood.
In the attics and top floors hid those who had finished their business and now wanted to enjoy the fruits of their crimes. Homeless people, drug addicts, drunken teenagers and just small gangs. They will never get their hands on a normal brothel, power and strength, but they survive as best they can and managed to get their hands on a warm place first.
-Parasites.
Licking blood from the wounds of New York City, they're real little scavengers, snatching up lone victims or dragging bits of rotting meat off the table of the real bastards.
The pawn shop street is blocked off and most of the destruction has been cleaned up, but most importantly, the wreckage is still here, which means I'll be able to find out how much damage
these unknown beams are doing.
The cat hooks into a neighbouring building, after which I bravely jump down....
Noticing a blonde head staring out of a familiar window at me with both eyes. A lollipop fell out of the girl's mouth, and she toppled off the bed as our gazes met for a moment.
Just in case, I used my free hand to frantically run it over my face, checking to make sure I was wearing the mask, because Gwen's reaction was so vivid.
-No, this is definitely the signal to get the hell out of here.
Using inertia and the last crumbs of Qi, I twisted, swinging on the cable to fly around the corner of the building and jump out onto the spacious street. The original plan to quietly look around from the alley and then act went to hell.
"So how do the supers live quietly and be heroes! Every day, someone's gonna see my arse."
The bad luck didn't stop there. As soon as I landed, a gun was pointed right in my face. Mrs Smith, Mr Wesson and their fifteen all-metal kids.
-What I didn't expect to see here was you.
Spitting his cigarette on the ground, George Stacy didn't move a millimetre, still glaring at me. One hand held the gun firmly in his grasp while the man looked me over, taking in the details and probably mentally filling out my file. The other man, Stacey, was showing off his police badge, baffling me instantly.
-What are you doing here? Well, answer me.
This was a very unpleasant situation. If it ended badly and I had to knock him out, it would be an open assault on a police officer and the whole town would be looking for me, because the bobbies don't like to be touched. Sneaky old man. But that wasn't enough. Most of all, I wasn't sure of my victory over the old detective.
Unlike all my previous opponents, Stacy was striking in his coolness. The man seemed to have stopped breathing, waiting intently for my answer. His stone face was watching me, his eyes squinting unkindly.
-I've come to inspect the scene of the accident.
-If you wanted to be the first to get the evidence, you should have visited during the battle with the mutant.
-I'm not that good.
-Glad you realise that...
"...Unlike the others," Stacy clearly meant to say. The outstretched hand with the gun slowly lowered to his belt, continuing to hold the weapon in a lighter pose.
-Despite your actions, I am obligated to arrest you, do you realise that?
Hinting at my exploits against petty criminals, George lowered his tone of voice, striking concern and involvement in his intonation.
-There's no evidence against me.
-Your mask speaks for itself," the lieutenant smiled for the first time during our conversation in his new role and tilted his head to the side, "you shouldn't have left graffiti on the walls.
-Weak evidence. There's not many freaks walking around the city," I tried to act nonchalant, but I made no attempt to move to break the distance or get closer. Stacy wouldn't hesitate, but would just shoot me in the leg or arm. From that distance, hitting the right spot wasn't a problem at all - and I wasn't doing anything wrong. Did someone file a report on me?
-Yes," George smiled, smiling, obviously seeing me flinch, "the people of Queens Village have filed a report on a troublemaker. You were seen running out of the house. They heard a rumble and accused you of vandalism.
-That's the first I've heard.
-Plus they found a bunch of beaten-up wastrels in the house. It's not hard to connect the two, especially if you promise the perps a lighter sentence and get them to testify. And Judge Kerse will go for it. He doesn't like heroes and freaks.
-That doesn't sound very legitimate," I even let some genuine resentment slip into my voice. Stacey seemed like the kind of honest cop who'd never take advantage of loopholes or any of that crap, but... This isn't a soap opera or a comic book, so it's no surprise," I said, not what you expect from the police when you're helping them.
-Life isn't fair. Sometimes the law lets you down and the bastards walk out of court with smiles on their faces. I'm really grateful for your help," the badge had long been tucked away in an inside pocket and now the lieutenant deftly pulled out a new cigarette, "but I can't trust you. What if one day you decide it's easier to get rid of criminals for good? And instead of a heroic assistant who's excited about hero stories, I'll get a psychopath who shoots everyone he thinks is guilty?
-I want to believe that won't happen.
-Well done, if you said you were absolutely sure, I'd be disappointed.
Glancing at his watch, Stacy frowned unhappily, then lowered the gun barrel to the ground. A brief glance cast in the direction of the family home and the burning window helped George make his decision.
-Today's your lucky day, lad. I'm not dragging you down to the station. And as long as you don't do anything crazy, the police won't come after you.... As zealously as they could," the gun was sharply level with my eyes again. Its gleaming muzzle shimmered menacingly in the semi-darkness," but if you falter even once.... I will spare no effort to seek you out and stop this masquerade with the flick of a finger.
-... I understand.
With a conciliatory nod of my head, I began to back away slowly, still keeping Stacy in sight. When I was less than a couple of metres away from the second turn that led away from the lieutenant's house, I decided to ask a question.
-And if I want to help the police, not antagonise them.
Sincere surprise flashed across his face, but experience and steely stamina helped him to pull himself together quickly. A grin spread across his face, and George laughed a tired laugh.
-I'll think about it," Stacey waved the barrel of his gun in the air, indicating that I'd been trying his patience for too long. Even his love for his daughter, who's waiting for him in the house next door, and his tiredness from his job won't keep him from arresting me anymore." "You're on probation. Make sure you don't screw up so I don't regret the decision.
(Just so there's no question. George not agreeing to work with him is, again, common American courtesy with a fake smile on his face. It's just that the old man realises that the guy in front of him is young (for him certainly), hot-hearted and aspiring. And in order not to ruin his life, he gives him a chance and a hint to continue the business, and then, no matter how things go. Suddenly it will be possible to pull the fool away from the path of heroism and put him on the true path. Besides, so far, the guy hasn't done much damage. No one will tell about the case in the underground auction at the official level, and everything else is more drawn out by the ears. Criminals have been released with more evidence)
***
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