On a branch-shaped perch, an owl—pure white with a scattering of black spots—slouched with its eyes half-lidded. Open, but not fully open, it looked down its beak through narrow slits straight at Wayne.
Wayne saw pure disdain in those slits!
Rumor had it that owls were symbols of wisdom.
Wayne did not believe it. Take the white owl in front of him: if it were truly intelligent, it would know how to play cute using its good looks. Its gaze would never be this infuriatingly punchable.
Its arrogant posture was an outright provocation, as if picking a fight to decide which of them was walking out of here on two legs today.
"Oh? You fancy this one? I remember it's quite old. It's been here forever without anyone choosing it..."
Seeing Wayne locked in a staring contest with the white owl, Villy knew he had found the carrier bird with the best affinity for him. She pulled an encyclopedia off a nearby shelf, flipped through a few pages, and began reading aloud: "Snowy owl, also known as the white owl. Active mainly during the day, fifty to seventy centimeters in length, with a small, round head and a facial disk far less defined than those of other owls.
"According to the records, this snowy owl is male. Normally, male snowy owls reach around sixty centimeters. This one is on the smaller side—probably didn't get enough to eat when it was young. Plus, its plumage is nearly solid white, which means it's an old bird."
"Get to the point!" Wayne interrupted without turning his head.
Driven by some bizarre competitive urge, he was still locking horns with the creature. Man and bird glared at each other, unblinking, locked in a contest to see whose eyes dried out first.
"It's too old, and it rarely moves around at night. Why don't you pick another one?"
With that, Villy shrugged. Chemistry was just like that: whoever caught your eye first was the one, and there was no changing it.
Besides, Wayne's compatibility with this bird was astonishingly high. Their expressions were practically identical; finding another with such a high match would be difficult.
"I'll take it."
Wayne stared for a moment longer until his eyes dried out and he couldn't hold on anymore. He firmly resolved to take it home and give it a proper lesson.
"Give it a try. The two of you should get along great."
With Villy's encouragement, Wayne reached out toward the snowy owl.
An owl was basically a cat with wings. Petting an owl was the same as petting a cat. He was confident his exquisite technique would leave the creature utterly hooked, reducing it to a puppet of its own cravings, crying and begging him for pets, never daring to squint at people again.
He missed!
The little creature dodged!
Wayne was dumbfounded. Villy was equally confused, and she handed him a dried mouse strip to try again.
Things only got worse. The snowy owl completely ignored the mouse strip, its gaze growing even more contemptuous, as though mocking Wayne for being an idiot.
The audacity!
Wayne rolled up his sleeves, ready to teach it a thing or two. Seeing this, Villy hurriedly grabbed his arm, urging him to calm down and not stoop to the carrier bird's level.
They were going to be family from now on; things should be settled with words, not physical violence.
There was too much friction in her grip. Wayne struggled twice and couldn't break free. He struggled a few more times and still couldn't escape.
He decided to do Villy a favor and let the creature off the hook for now.
"It's settled. I'm taking it with me today, no matter what."
"Uh, why not try tempting it with magic? In theory, your affinity should be very high..." Villy suggested.
Tempting? This was demonstrating his strengths!
Wayne gave it a shot. He had plenty of confidence in his pure mana. He raised his hand and waved it before the snowy owl. A wisp of white light drifted out, drawing the rapt attention of every other owl in the aviary.
The snowy owl's half-closed eyes slowly slid open. Its golden eyes went round as brass bells, and its black pupils contracted sharply.
It was visibly stunned.
This time, when Wayne demanded it come home with him, the snowy owl did not refuse. It hopped directly onto Wayne's arm of its own accord.
The snowy owl looked massive, but it was actually very light—around two or three jin. Its bulk was entirely an illusion created by fluffy feathers. Owls were all like that; strip away the feathers, and every single one was a scrawny beanpole.
There was no way a snowy owl could fit into a hat. Certain spells allowed large owls to hide within their master's clothing or accessories, but those were obviously far beyond a beginner. Villy found a cage fitted with a fabric curtain and managed to coax the snowy owl inside.
This white owl was remarkably quiet. Unlike its endlessly curious peers, it maintained a haughty demeanor the entire time, convincing Wayne that it truly was an old bird.
Old bird or not, Wayne wasn't relying on it to guard the house. It didn't matter if it was sluggish at night; he still had Abin, who could handle everything.
Speaking of which, Abin had been fooling around outside for several nights now. It was high time the dog shouldered its house-guarding duties.
***
After filling out the forms, Wayne carried the birdcage and followed Villy out through the arched iron gate. She planned to take him to a room to teach him the basic spells associated with carrier birds.
A quiet place, free of interruptions.
Unsurprisingly, the enthusiastic coaches swarmed them. Their twitching muscles were an offer Wayne couldn't refuse, so he took the initiative to ask for an office with a glass door.
Villy found a spellbook containing the fundamental spells used with carrier birds, explaining them word by word in simple, accessible terms.
Outside the glass door, a sea of muscular meatheads jostled for position. If Wayne dared to use the lesson as an excuse to touch Villy's small hands, they would burst inside as one and demonstrate the aesthetic of sheer power they so revered.
Wayne thought, *Heh, I already touched her chest earlier!*
Wayne proved once again that he was a genius. Not only did he have an incredible memory, but he also absorbed and mastered new knowledge at remarkable speed.
Villy told Wayne not to attempt casting the newly learned spells just yet. Beginners made mistakes easily, and a mistake meant the loss of a carrier bird's life. What Wayne needed to do for now was build familiarity with his bird—namely, feeding it often so it would be happy and well-fed.
Once Chris finished her current assignment, she would give Wayne dedicated one-on-one tutoring. Trying out the magic then would not be too late.
Marvelous! One-on-one tutoring with a pretty girl!
As someone once said, when a man sits with a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like just a minute; but let him sit on a gay guy for a minute, and it feels like more than an hour.
Time slipped by unnoticed. Before night fell, Villy handed Wayne the basic magic textbook, telling him to study it thoroughly at home to reinforce what he had learned.
Wayne took the textbook and the birdcage and left the fitness center.
Behind him, a cluster of hulking coaches stood at the entrance watching him go. Head Coach Dick raised an eyebrow, glancing toward a black car parked at the end of the street.
Inside the car, two suspicious men dressed in black were smoking. Seeing Wayne leave the fitness center, they tossed their cigarette butts out and slowly drove after him.
"The kid's being tailed?"
Dick pondered for a moment, then turned to a nearby coach. "Follow them. Keep it low-key, don't do anything extra, and just make sure he doesn't get hurt."
The coach nodded, threw a jacket over his shoulders, and set off to tail the black car trailing Wayne.
The two men in black were not mages. In Dick's eyes, their life auras were weak and scattered—ordinary men like any found on the street, likely local gang thugs.
Dick didn't take such a trivial matter to heart, nor did he care why Wayne had provoked a gang. He strolled over to Villy with a grin, rubbing his hands together with the goofy look of an overindulgent father.
"Villy, when did you and Wayne meet?"
"I know, but you didn't give details last time... No, I don't mean anything by it, just checking in."
"Him, a genius? Don't make me laugh... Er, I'm not questioning your judgment. What I mean is, even if he is a genius, at his age there can't be much potential left to tap."
"What?! He used mana to take the white owl with him?!"
Dick's eyes went wide. His facial muscles twitched in shock, causing the centipede scar across his face to contort wildly.
"Nothing, it's an old bird. Wayne just had bad luck—yeah, terrible luck."
The expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Dick casually brushed the topic aside so Villy wouldn't suspect anything. By the time he turned and walked out of the fitness center, Wayne's figure with the birdcage was already long gone.
*That shouldn't be possible. That's no carrier bird. There's no reason it would leave with Wayne...*
*Could he really be a genius?!*
***
Wayne didn't take a cab straight home. Holding the birdcage in his left hand and a tote bag containing the textbook and bird feed in his right, he strolled along the street as the gas lamps began to flicker on.
For one thing, he wanted to test his luck and see if walking down dark streets would let him stumble upon kidnappers snatching young maidens. If he could pull off a dashing rescue, and the girl happened to be wealthy like Veronica, he wouldn't mind accepting a reward to relieve his dire financial crisis—his pockets were cleaner than his face.
As for her dedicating her life to him in gratitude, forget it. He was rather conservative when it came to romance; he couldn't manage juggling four boats at once.
For another, he wanted to familiarize himself with the layout of the North District: which corners were suitable for surveillance, which storm drains a person could slip into, and which routes led to nearby subway stations for a swift retreat.
He could also walk the dog while he was at it. Darkness had fallen and the fog was rising; it was about time for Abin to dig his way up from the earth.
Ten minutes later, Wayne realized he was being followed. Looking out of the corner of his eye as he turned a street corner, he spotted a black car creeping along at a ridiculously slow pace, seemingly waiting for full nightfall.
Darkness made it easier to strike!
"Damn it. They don't kidnap pretty girls anymore, they go straight for handsome young men?"
Wayne muttered under his breath. Passing an alley, he abruptly picked up his pace and headed straight into its depths.
The black car pulled over to the curb. Two men in black scrambled out and rushed into the alley.
At the end of the street, the gym coach who had trailed them hurried to the alley entrance. He didn't enter right away, but closed his eyes and listened intently for a moment.
After a short while, he shook his head and turned to leave.
The boss had worried over nothing. This kid could fight, and he was full of dirty tricks—nowhere near as honest as he looked on the surface!
Wait a second. If the kid wasn't honest, wouldn't Villy get tricked?
The coach spat violently on the ground and hurried back toward the fitness center. He had gathered crucial intel; everyone had to stay on high alert and never let that rotten brat get his way.
***
Inside the alley, Wayne had concealed himself behind a dumpster. When the two men in black jogged past, he flashed out and delivered a flying kick that sent one crashing to the ground.
Landing, he pivoted and whipped a heavy fist through the air, using his momentum to smash squarely into the second man's nose.
The strike carried massive force, scoring an immediate stun. Before the second man could even register what had happened, his legs gave out and he collapsed stiffly to the ground.
The first man had hit the dirt, spilling a revolver from his coat. Scrambling on all fours, he lunged frantically to grab the gun.
Just as his fingers closed around the weapon, his frantic expression eased slightly.
Celebrated too soon!
A hard kick landed square on his rear, sending him sprawling forward on hands and knees. By the time he scrambled around, the revolver was already in Wayne's hand.
The original host's muscle memory held a vast repertoire of combat techniques; there was no way he had been just some idle, third-rate detective.
"On the ground. Hands behind your head!"
Wayne waved the muzzle. As dusk settled, the shadow of his black fedora obscured his eyes. Paired with his cold tone, he radiated the vicious aura of a ruthless mob enforcer.
The man in black was thoroughly intimidated. He dropped obediently onto his stomach, clasping his hands behind his head.
The other man was already dead to the world. Wayne patted him down, pulled out another handgun, and asked with a chilling frown, "Who are you people, and why are you following me?"
"No, we weren't! We were just passing by!" the man on the ground stammered, trying to explain.
"Heh, so you're telling me it's a coincidence?"
"Yes, absolutely a coincidence!"
*Thud!*
Wayne stepped forward slowly, pinning the man's neck with a knee and pressing the barrel against the back of his head. "Kid, you're only making a few hundred a month—why throw your life away? I'll give you one more chance. Speak, or I'll blow your head off and get my answers from your partner."
"I... I..."
Lies never broke a man; only the truth did!
Wayne's words struck right where it hurt most. The man's tone instantly became aggrieved and bitter. The reality was so crushing he felt like he couldn't breathe.
"Still not talking?"
Wayne jabbed him with the barrel. "Fine, I won't force you. I'll just ask your friend. With your bloody example right before his eyes, I'm sure he'll be eager to cooperate, and I'll let him walk away with his life."
"No, no, no! Don't shoot! I'll talk! I'll talk!"
The man confessed everything: "We're from the East District's Black Snake Gang. We trailed you all the way to the North District. A big shot has his eye on you! Our boss wanted to get on that big shot's good side, so he planned to kidnap you and deliver you over."
Wayne: "..."
A big shot? Who? Had he offended any big shots?
Chapter 25