Chương 127: Asher

We had made it to the 9th, and Chris was anxious to actually try and have us celebrate May's foot returning in normal fashion. The party didn't work out for all the obvious reasons that came with being put through psychological torture puzzles by a demon. This time, however, Chris was pretty adamant on doing something. We hadn't eaten a big, nice meal together since before the raid on the manor, when May lost her foot. He thought of it as a great way to book-end that chapter of her life.

I wouldn't have really minded if he didn't contract me to help him with doing all of this. He wanted to use the cafeteria's facilities to cook everything since our kitchen in the common area wasn't really fitting for what he wanted. The cafeteria workers were fine with him using the stuff, but not their ingredients because they had to make a preset menu. Including everything I ate.

The entire time I was eating my food, I watched him arguing with the cafeteria to just let him use some of the ingredients since it was going to be cooked anyway. He was reminded that the staffers also ate there and unlike us, they paid for their food. So there was no getting through to them and he finally had to throw in the towel. But they did say he could do it if he got his own ingredients. That put a glimmer in his eye that I knew I would regret making eye contact with.

That's how he roped me into this bullshit. He gave an explanation to Tancred and Richmond before we left. Tancred didn't really seem to care, he was still sour over his power being outed. Richmond seemed almost giddy by the notion, which felt kind of odd. Ever since she joined us she usually minded her own business and focused on maintaining more of the structure and communications side of things. Maybe she just wanted to get more involved. I had no interest in granting her that.

I've managed to develop trust for my team, besides Sam. I've got some measure of trust for the staff. I can't trust Tancred, but I've figured out his general behaviors to the point I knew when I could or couldn't actually trust what he was telling me or doing. I didn't know her. All I know is she's part of the same anonymous superhero program that Tancred's threatened to call in and cause mass casualty events with. I didn't even know her powers. She was, objectively, too vague of a presence to trust.

"-But I don't think it was as bad as everyone's saying. The bit where he was talking about old West gunfights and actually reenacting them was super cool!" My focus was brought back to reality, as I was stuck in the passenger seat with Chris while he didn't stop talking about some movie we watched. I didn't even remember it. I wasn't very good at watching movies. That Doctor Baby movie still left a bad taste in my mouth.

"Yeah, sure, I guess."

"…You didn't listen to anything I said, did you?" He asked, looking at me with almost disappointment. I shook my head.

"You know I don't really care about movies."

"There had to have been one movie you liked that we've shown you! What about the one with the giant robots and the kaiju?"

"Just kind of annoyed me. We have all sorts of mad scientists running around doing God knows what, we have one sleeping in the same building as us. Why haven't they developed anything like that to fight kaiju?"

"I actually got to hear about that during a lecture in class. It's something called the 'Square-Cube Law.' If you make something twice as big, it takes four times more energy to make it move and support it. So there's a risk of it falling apart under its own weight." Looking over, I squinted at him.

"Then why doesn't that apply to the kaiju?" He shrugged.

"Superpowers? Superpowers are usually how you defy physics. Mad scientists can do a lot, but their entire thing is trying to figure out how to actually work within physical laws. I bet a wizard could figure it out, though."

"Yeah, but where are we going to find a wizard who would want to do it?" I looked back out the window, supporting my head with my hand.

"Agent Lafeuillade?" Shook my head.

"I don't think she'd be interested."

"Hm. Probably. We need more wizards."

"Why on Earth would we need more wizards?"

"Well, we've only had one bad experience with one."

"You have had one bad experience with one. She's done invasive surgery on me after that fight with the ADU in the warehouse. When she fixed the nerves in my arms I felt pain I didn't even know could exist." Letting out an exhale, I glanced back at him.

"And if that's the best we've gotten for a wizard, I imagine the options are worse."

"Well, I gue-" I raised my eyebrows.

"Actually, wait, no, she's not the only wizard, I think." He flicked his eyes over at me as we parked in front of a store, turning the car off.

"Who's the other?"

"Master Sequoia I think is a wizard. I don't know how else he does all of his wood control stuff. It feels a lot more magical than just a natural superpower."

"What's your notion on it?" I shrugged.

"Gleditsia seems more like a superpower case. Just a hunch. But that means more bad experiences with wizards." Chris nodded in concession as we opened the door and went in.

"Well, I'm certain they're figuring out some way to fight the kaiju, regardless." The store's interior was rife with strange smells that hit me before anything else. Herbs and cooked meats and raw meats and roots. Music played in another language that I didn't understand.

"So what are we here for, exactly?" I asked, glancing over at the walls, rich in warm colors and text I couldn't read well.

"I mean I can tell you're looking for ingredients, but I couldn't really tell you what most of these are." Out of curiosity, I squatted down by a shelf and picked up a bag full of white powder. The text "Umami Seasoning" and "Monosodium Glutamate" was emblazoned on it. I had no idea what those words really meant.

"My idea was doing a huge garbure stew while still being ingredients-efficient. Garbure is best with duck, but duck can take a while to cook. So I'm using roasted duck. Which this place sells," he explained before making me put the bag down. After that, he led me down the aisles to the side of the store, where multiple ducks deprived of feathers, beaks, and life were hanging. Their cooked flesh actually smelled quite enticing. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Unhooking two of the ducks from their rack, he carried them over to the counter, where the cashier held them up while Chris handled payment. When he brought his card out, the cashier raised a hand to stop him.

"Hey, no. No cards today. Reader's not working. We need cash."

"Your reader's not working?" The cashier tapped the card reader.

"Go, try." Chris gave his card a slide through the reader. A beeping noise was accompanied by the screen reading ERROR. He tried again. ERROR. A third time. ERROR.

"That normal?" I asked, glancing up at the cashier.

"It's getting more normal. Reader's old. Need a new one, but I'm waiting until my car loan is paid. I can reserve these for you while you get cash, if you want?" I glanced at Chris and he shrugged.

"I don't keep cash on me, so yeah, I'll need to hit an ATM. Are there any nearby?" The cashier shook his head.

"Last one got broken into the other day. There's a bank about five minutes away if you want to get some cash nearby." We ended up agreeing. Or, well, he ended up agreeing and I just went with it since I wasn't the one making garbage stew or whatever it was. Stepping out, I ended up halting my approach to the car, watching along the road and the nooks between buildings. The small park and pond off to my right, the little oasis of nature amidst the concrete in this part of town.

My attention went back to one of the buildings. I stared like I was in a competition.

"Something wrong?" Chris asked. Technically, nothing was wrong. But I couldn't just agree with that notion, for some reason. I had felt watched. Observed. But nothing seemed to indicate it. People were walking and moving around. There were a few thuggish looking guys sitting on a stoop, but they weren't staring at me or anything. I decided to keep track of their description, regardless. There were five of them. One was large, heavy-set. Green beanie. He sat at the top of the stoop. Ringleader, maybe.

The other four were in far fitter shape. One wore a purple and yellow jersey. Another wore a navy blue tank top with holes in it. One was shirtless, bald, and had a tattoo on his left shoulder. Text. I saw both letters and numbers. Maybe a memorial tattoo. The fourth was in a plain blue t-shirt, but with long hair. None of them glanced over at me. They were just sitting around. That would have been fine, but they weren't doing… anything else. Just sitting. No stereo or music players or anything. Not even talking.

They were on foot, however. So I didn't worry too much about it. I shook my head, told him it was nothing, and we ended up driving off towards the bank. It was surprisingly high activity at this time of day. Then again, it was a Friday in the last month of Summer. They might've been on vacation time or something. Why they'd need to make a cash withdrawal at the same time, I didn't know. Still couldn't shake the feeling of observation. Glancing around, I noticed the security cameras lingering and gazing at me.

I wrote it off as those. I wasn't doing well with feeling watched. Others were probably noticing my unrest in my pacing and adjusting my posture constantly. I felt bad for the teller. She probably thought I was planning on robbing the place as I stood next to Chris, finding any excuse to distract my thoughts. I wasn't even sure why I was so paranoid about being watched. People have eyes. I spent most of my time in observation. In the costume, people were always staring at me. Wearing bright colors tends to do that.

Maybe the mask just made it feel better. Made it feel right. That or maybe it was just all the stress compounding. About my eighteenth year coming to a close, ending so far differently than how my seventeenth did. My powers were different than I thought. I was no longer in a brick house in a completely different place than I actually remember. I was eating more food and putting on weight. I was able to say I've saved hundreds of lives. But I also now had to admit I've taken them, too.

That thought was probably the bitterest enemy I'd ever have. It made Gleditsia look like Chris by comparison. Even in a good time, the reminder that I killed someone I could never determine the innocence of seeped into the cracks of my skull and oozed onto my brain. Soaked it in a lament that put glue in my ribs and paralyzed me. I-"Sir?" A woman's voice. Reality came back to me. The teller was staring at me like a deer in headlights. Went and did it again.

"Sorry," I muttered, before glancing around and noticing Chris just quietly observing me. No concern on his face. Just measuring.

"Let's just go," I told him. There was no further conversation as we drove back to the shop. Chris made a detour to a refrigerator bin in the back, grabbing a bag of frozen peas before paying for it plus the roasted ducks. The ducks were boxed up and the peas were double-bagged. When we got back out, he opened the back doors of the car and slipped the ducks in, but just shut it while holding the peas.

"…You gonna leave them in your lap or something?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"No. I don't put peas in my garbure, I don't like peas in general. But I think you're kinda tense. Let's go feed some ducks."

"Huh?"

"C'mon!" He called out, before heading off towards the park across the street, where the pond shimmered in sunlight. I followed him until we reached a bench. A few ducks floated on the water. People were hanging around. It felt a little crowded, but they likely stuck to it as the other park was too close to the treeline. This one, deep in its asphalt prison, was much easier to mistake as secure from the ADU. I tried not to think about it. Chris kept ranting about how people tend to relax around eating animals.

Told me how ducks shouldn't eat bread, but peas were great for them. We took turns flinging handfuls of peas into the water, watching the waterfowl chase after each one. Felt kind of nice to not be the one doing the running arou-"Hey, Harry!" Shouted a voice, right towards me. I pivoted on a heel. Five men. One heavy-set, green beanie. While standing up, I could see he was broader in shoulders than in gut. He wasn't just some fat guy. He had a sledgehammer leveled over his shoulder.

His position behind them marked him as ringleader in my eyes. Second in a purple and yellow jersey, swinging a chain around in his hands as idle amusement. Dead-eyed gaze. Likely on drugs. Third was wearing a navy blue tank top with holes in it. Another sledgehammer. Empty gaze, but it didn't seem like drugs. Just stupid. Fourth, shirtless. Bald. Tattoo on the left shoulder. Letters and numbers. Could see it better from this distance. Lil Gordito — 1991-2008. He held a baseball bat.

Fifth in plain blue t-shirt, long hair. Machete. Cheap-looking kind you get from a hardware store. Had some dark splotches stained onto it. Could only guess from where. The one I assumed was ringleader spoke, same voice that called out that name.

"Hidalgo's been looking for you. He thinks you ratted him out. Why don't you come with us so we can explain things to 'em, son?" I just wanted to feed some fucking ducks.