Underground Mall

Jay was eating a slice of toast for breakfast when he saw the news about the bank robbery in Nashino City on TV. His dad was still snoring away in bed, while Mrs. Reynolds tossed the washed laundry into the dryer.

The reporter on TV was going all out, heaping praise on how efficient the Nashino City police were, how swift and decisive their actions had been, arriving at the scene in record time so the criminals didn't even have a chance to escape. Their raid was precise, fast, and tactically flawless, which was why they'd taken down the robbers with minimal losses.

Then the camera cut to the leader of the operation—a fairly handsome middle-aged man with blond hair. When he smiled, he showed exactly eight neat teeth, as if he'd rehearsed it countless times.

The reporter asked Detective Cortese how he'd managed to lead his team to such a near-perfect resolution of the incident.

Detective Cortese puffed up his chest and proudly declared that it was, of course, thanks to his excellent command and the fact that every officer was highly trained—dealing with a bunch of small-time crooks who didn't even know how to handle guns was a piece of cake!

The reporter immediately played along, giving him a thumbs-up and saying that the taxpayers' money was well spent—with such a professional police force, citizens had nothing to worry about. Detective Cortese laughed heartily, saying it was an overstatement, they were just doing their duty.

As the two were basking in their mutual admiration, Officer Cody Hawkins, who had been trapped in the bank with the hostages earlier, shoved his way into the shot despite attempts to stop him, shouting that the police hadn't arrived in time at all—it was Supergirl who had come to save everyone! He said she'd even taken a bullet for him, and the public deserved to know the truth.

Detective Cortese looked displeased, waved his hand to have the officer dragged away, then told the reporter not to mind him—the guy had been delusional for a while now, and everyone on the force knew it. The reporter didn't bother probing the obviously flimsy explanation, conveniently glossing over the incident and continuing to praise the police's efficiency.

Supergirl, huh?

Jay thought it over. His gut told him that the young officer who'd barged into the shot was probably telling the truth.

It had been like this ever since the Apocalypse Invasion ended and the World Federal Government was established. All of a sudden, media outlets worldwide had unanimously zipped their lips, with hardly any criticism of the government, and any incidents involving superhumans were thoroughly covered up. Two years ago, an accident in Gotham City with an unknown cause had resulted in over a hundred casualties; the media said it was due to a sudden magnitude-seven earthquake, but rumors claimed it was a supernatural incident involving magic. Whether it was true or not was impossible to verify.

Still, it wasn't hard to understand why this was happening. After suffering such a devastating blow, social stability and development mattered more than anything else.

Jay finished off his toast, downed the whole glass of milk in one go, and got up to wash the cup in the kitchen. By then, some so-called expert with a beer belly and a bald head was on TV, listing off various industries' growth stats to prove how much humanity had advanced since the end of the Hero Era. Jay thought to himself, Maybe you're ignoring the crime rate that's skyrocketing just as fast.

But that was the reality, and it was also why Jay didn't feel the need to do anything with his abilities. Lex Luthor had spent years getting the world to accept his view—that superhumans were a hindrance to human progress, and humanity was better off without them.

But what was so bad about that? Jay was already perfectly satisfied with his current life and couldn't ask for more. He had an ordinary, warm family, a fresh start, and a set of extraordinary talents no one knew about—his future looked bright.

"Jay!" Mrs. Reynolds' voice came from the bathroom. "Go wake your dad up and get him dressed. We're heading to the Underground Mall in a bit—you need some new clothes."

"Again?" Jay asked. "Didn't we just buy some not long ago?"

"Those were for summer. Your winter clothes are too small now." Mrs. Reynolds complained, "It's all because you grow too fast. The clothes we just bought are too small in no time—you really don't know how to save."

Jay wanted to say he didn't actually need winter clothes—he could wear a T-shirt to Antarctica and not know what cold meant—but he held his tongue. After all, he had to keep up appearances and try his best to seem normal.

After dragging the extremely reluctant Mr. Reynolds out of bed and having a quick breakfast, the three of them followed Mrs. Reynolds' lead to the Underground Mall in the city's commercial district.

Since it was still the holidays, the commercial area was packed beyond belief. The crowds pouring into the underground from every entrance were like a flood. As they flowed in with the masses, Mr. Reynolds kept mumbling complaints under his breath, something about not being allowed to sleep in.

Once it came to picking out clothes, Mrs. Reynolds immediately shifted into full professional mode. She never impulsively fell for the sales pitches from clothing store staff, always carefully considering color, material, quality, and price before making a decision. That sounded like the right approach, but it usually meant taking an especially long time. Plus, she might haggle over the price in the end, so whenever she suggested going shopping, it meant you had to clear your entire schedule for the day.

Even though Mrs. Reynolds said today was about picking out winter clothes for Jay, by the time the day was nearly over, the bags Jay was carrying mostly contained only one set of clothes for him—the rest were things Mrs. Reynolds had picked out for herself. It wasn't that she'd planned it that way from the start, but she had a habit of freezing in her tracks whenever she spotted clothes she liked, and before she knew it, she'd bought another pile.

Mr. Reynolds took the chance while she was browsing through the crowd to lower his voice and say to Jay, "Your mom doesn't really need to buy so much. At the rate she's going, by this time next year, none of it will fit her anymore."

Jay stifled a laugh. His dad only had the guts to sneak in a jab like that behind her back. But Mrs. Reynolds' ears seemed unusually sharp in certain areas—she suddenly spun around and snapped, "What did you just say?"

Mr. Reynolds flinched. "I said... that those clothes you're picking out must look great on you."

"Oh, really?"

Mrs. Reynolds closed in with a menacing aura, and Mr. Reynolds realized things were about to go south. Without a second thought, he turned to make a run for it, but he couldn't escape her clutches. He shot Jay a pleading look, but Jay just shrugged, showing his hands full of bags, and gave him a sympathetic glance in return.

Jay was chuckling at their silly antics when suddenly his sharp hearing caught something off in the distance. He turned his head and saw the crowd to his left was flowing in the opposite direction, like startled birds scattering.

All at once, a deeply ominous feeling washed over him, like a premonition that his peaceful life was about to be shattered. Jay took a couple of steps back instinctively and said, "Dad? Mom? I think... maybe we should get out of here."