Explorer Daniel

The animals in Lage Forest had been disturbed for months by some kind of foreign "monster." Even large predators like grizzly bears and cougars dared not make a move.

Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud!

Heavy footsteps pounded across the ground like an elephant's, rapid as a string of cannon fire. Birds and beasts scattered at once as a tall, short-haired young man raced by with a boulder half his height balanced on his shoulder. He leaped over ridges and ravines, sometimes springing high and bounding from one massive tree to another. The terrible force of his impacts snapped the trunks of one or two thinner trees.

A wolverine that had hidden in its burrow watched the monster disappear, sniffed the air, then slowly crawled out. The day had only just begun. It needed to catch more prey to feed the several pups in its den.

Given the industrial and construction capabilities of the era, completing the Underground Palace and its training equipment would take years. The first phase of excavation for the palace would take nearly a year. Herbert Vernon had mobilized as much manpower and construction machinery as he could, doing everything possible to meet young Mr. Howlett's demands for its depth and size.

With the later reinforcement, outfitting, and finishing work, preliminary estimates put the total time at over a year and a half. The training equipment would also take time to design and test. The main difficulty was that the strange "iron shaft" had no existing mechanical mold for casting, and it would have to be assembled inside the Underground Palace once construction was finished. The other items were comparatively easy. A batch had already been cast over the past three months and would be delivered to the Howlett Estate in the next few days.

So James had lately been training in the forest with boulders for weights. The boulder he carried as he ran each day now weighed about two hundred kilograms, his current limit. Maintaining a speed of over eight seconds per hundred meters and a vertical jump of two meters under that load revealed a terrifying strength far beyond what the relatively ordinary figure of two hundred kilograms suggested.

The high-intensity weighted training proved that James understood his own condition correctly. He could clearly feel that his strength, stamina, explosiveness, and other abilities had improved significantly.

James had once worried that his Mutant Gene might not only repair damage to his body, but also reject beneficial physical development, leaving him forever fixed in some unchanging state.

Since he had started with a hundred kilograms and worked his way up to two hundred, James's physique had changed noticeably. He now stood over one hundred and ninety centimeters tall, his body packed with thick muscle, and weighed more than one hundred and thirty kilograms. He was beginning to resemble Victor, nothing like the lean, agile build of a cheetah he'd had before.

His appetite had increased dramatically, too. He needed three pounds of steak per meal and ate four meals a day. He was even starting to worry, with some despair, about what he would look like once he'd completed the rest of his training.

Victoria was the largest port and town on Vancouver Island. The island had first been discovered by a Spanish fleet in 1774, and its abundant fur resources soon attracted explorers and traders from many other European nations.

After a series of conflicts, the island eventually came under the control of the British Empire. The indigenous Salish, Nootka, and Kwakwaka'wakw people had lived there for thousands of years. They still made up a significant part of its population, though, strictly speaking, most were relegated to the lower ranks of laborers and slaves.

The ports of this era offered a curious sight: the sails of wooden ships and the smokestacks of steamships rising side by side. Steamships had not yet fully replaced the old wooden vessels, and the great, square-rigged ships that had once sailed the world still played a significant role in maritime trade.

Daniel Ferrant wore a round sun hat, a brown shirt, and shorts. His skin had been reddened by the sun.

With a pipe between his teeth and a cane in hand, he watched indigenous slaves with yellow-brown skin carry his luggage, occasionally shouting curses at them. With his unkempt yellow beard and weather-beaten face, it was hard to imagine that this middle-aged man had once been a refined Oxford College scholar in the British Empire.

His travels in Africa had put him through hell: food that was impossible to swallow, enormous mosquitoes that never left him alone, and malaria that nearly killed him.

He had come close to dying on that savage continent. Now, the allure of civilization and fair-skinned women had called him back.

After seven or eight years of traveling and exploration, he was finally beginning to tire of it. Perhaps settling down would not be such a bad choice.

As James's personal maid, Rose O'Hara technically only needed to look after his private life and daily needs. But James was no idle rich boy, and he preferred to handle his day-to-day affairs himself.

That had angered O'Hara for a long time. But James preferred to have her help him manage the family business instead: sorting the mail in advance, screening documents, and organizing crop reports from the various regions.

James had told O'Hara that her position was his personal secretary. Thanks to her past experience studying under Mr. Daniel alongside James, she did a very good job. She didn't understand what the word "secretary" meant, but the word "personal" had kept her grinning for days.

As usual, after an excessively lavish breakfast, James started handling business in his study at nine. O'Hara would sort the latest news and reports from the various regions, then bring them to his desk with his coffee.

James worked very efficiently and usually had matters in every region arranged by lunchtime. In the afternoon, he mostly went to check on the work in the estate's basement or to the factory to discuss the casting of his odd collection of equipment.

O'Hara was looking through the letters and telegrams that had arrived that morning when a telegram from Victoria, on Vancouver Island, caught her eye. She quickly tucked it away, picked up the coffee tray, and hurried toward the study.

"Young master! Quick! Guess who sent a telegram!" O'Hara excitedly set down the tray and circled around him. James was reading the latest newspapers and letters from the United States. Without looking up, he said in a seasoned tone, "Steady on, O'Hara. You're a grown woman now. Who could have sent a telegram? We don't have any distant relatives."

"Just look!" O'Hara thrust out her nose proudly and placed the telegram in front of James. A short message caught his eye.

"I'll arrive in Edmonton the day after tomorrow to visit you all. Daniel."

"Mr. Daniel has been gone for years. He hasn't sent a single letter in the past year, either. I wonder how he's doing now. He said he was going traveling and exploring—he must have so many interesting stories!" O'Hara chattered excitedly at James, still wondering aloud whether Daniel would bring her a present.

"It really is a wonderful surprise." James smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting. He had great respect for his teacher. Daniel Ferrant was an open-minded and relatively forward-thinking scholar, which had allowed him, to some extent, to recognize the extraordinary foresight in James.

But James's exceptional talent had left Daniel with nothing more to teach him after just four years, so he had said his goodbyes and left to pursue his dream of exploring the world. By then, however, the two had already become more than teacher and student; they were friends, too.

"He'll have to pass through Red Deer on his way from Victoria. Send someone there to meet him in advance and escort him here. There've been all sorts of unruly people about since the gold rush started," James instructed. O'Hara happily agreed and immediately passed the order along.

Daniel's arrival brought to mind a question James had been pondering. Since his teacher had spent so long traveling and exploring, perhaps he could offer some help and answers.

He lowered his head and finished reading the newspaper, keeping an eye on the worsening situation in the northern and southern United States. The peaceful days would soon be over. It was also time to have another serious talk with Victor. His half-brother, who had grown up alongside him but had been kept in the dark, needed to leave the stables and the wilderness and put his real talents to use. He only hoped Victor could hold on to his humanity and not become the savage Sabretooth completely.

I've opened a separate post in the supplementary section to discuss the main questions everyone has been asking lately. I've posted the second chapter at the same time, so you can read them together. In the future, as long as I can keep up with the writing, I'll try to post chapters together.