The morning after a typhoon was somewhat brighter. The clouds that had long shrouded Gotham had dispersed a little, and after a night of howling wind and torrential rain, the air was unusually fresh.
Standing by the window, Jason stretched and rolled his neck before waking Little Rascal, who was still sound asleep in bed. As Little Rascal washed up, he asked, "Are you going to breakfast today?"
"Of course. This school's cafeteria is pretty good." Jason patted his chest and said, "I'm still growing. I need to eat more."
"I'm not going today. I still don't quite understand that transmission mechanism the teacher explained yesterday. I'm going over early to ask him about it."
Little Rascal picked up his books and was about to head out when Jason called after him. "Wait. Want me to bring you something? Do you want a burger or a wrap?"
"Bring me a wrap, but no sauce. It's too salty." Little Rascal pushed open the door and left. Jason, standing behind him, shook his head and said, "What a strange guy. Even his tastes are weird."
Suddenly, he clutched his forehead and said, "God, transmission mechanisms... What did the teacher emphasize yesterday?"
Realizing it was still early, Jason sat on his bed and muttered, "Sometimes, I really envy him for finding something he likes to do."
He put both hands behind his head and leaned against the pillow. "...What do I like? Fixing cars? But I only stole tires to sell them for money. Do I really like messing around with mechanical parts?"
Jason shook his head, apparently unable to figure it out. Then he suddenly sprang to his feet, stretched again, and said, "Jason, you don't have that kind of luck. You can't just lie around counting money without doing anything. Let's