Espers

In the restroom, Yang Chen splashed cold water on his face. Looking at his slightly flushed reflection in the mirror, he couldn't help grinning.

It wasn't a very pretty grin, though.

Yang Chen was an orphan. Growing up in an orphanage had left him rather withdrawn, and lately he had been getting by on scavenging through trash.

He hardly ever interacted with anyone.

So he'd become somewhat of a loner.

Smiles had rarely appeared on Yang Chen's face.

Yang Chen clenched his fist slightly. The powerful strength he could feel within it filled him with a sense of security.

There was nothing quite like being able to take his fate into his own hands.

In the past, Yang Chen could only pray for good luck and hope to find something valuable enough to keep him alive. You could say that the old Yang Chen had survived entirely on Heaven's mercy.

But things were different now. As an esper, Yang Chen could finally take his fate into his own hands!

Espers held a high status among humanity.

Yang Chen didn't know what kind of esper his Grandmaster ability made him, but he knew one thing: even the weakest esper had a higher status than a civil servant!

Yang Chen pulled several crumpled bills from his pocket and counted them. He had exactly eleven yuan.

He pushed open the door and prepared to go out for something to eat.

Now that he was an esper, he couldn't keep shortchanging himself. Eleven yuan was enough to fill his stomach!

Downstairs, Yang Chen headed straight for Liu's Noodle Shop across the street.

The shop was a little run-down, but there was a steady stream of customers. Tables filled even the entrance, as if the owner feared they might all be taken.

At the entrance, someone had set up a huge iron pot. An old man stood beside it, dropping in handfuls of noodles now and then to cook in the boiling water.

He then fished them out, put them into bowls, and added some seasonings. Before long, the aroma of noodles mingled with the fragrant spices and spread through the air.

The smell drifted into Yang Chen's nostrils, immediately stirring his appetite.

"Grrr~"

His stomach growled.

Yang Chen strode toward the noodle shop. The people nearby looked at his ragged clothes and frowned, shifting away as if standing next to him would bring them bad luck.

Yang Chen seemed used to such reactions. He quietly went over to the old man at the stove and spoke softly.

"Three liang of plain noodles, with less chili, please!"

Then Yang Chen carefully took the crumpled eleven yuan from his pocket and gently placed it on the counter in front of the old man.

"Go sit down."

The old man merely nodded.

At that, Yang Chen found an empty seat and sat there quietly without saying a word. He acted as if he couldn't see the cold, mocking looks from those around him, like a wooden dummy.

After a while, the old man brought over a bowl larger than Yang Chen's face and set it on his table.

The fragrant noodles filled the air. The reddish oil immediately whetted Yang Chen's appetite, and several large chunks of beef floated conspicuously on top.

For some reason, Yang Chen felt as if something were stuck in his throat. For a moment, he couldn't say a thing.

Perhaps this old man was the only person who had ever truly looked at him.

"Eat up. It won't taste as good once it gets cold."

The old man tossed out those words, then went back to the stove and continued cooking noodles.

Yang Chen took a deep breath, picked up his chopsticks, and began eating in great mouthfuls. Partway through, a tear fell onto the noodles. He ate it without even seeming to notice.

Before long, he had finished every last noodle, and even drained the broth.

Just as Yang Chen was about to get up and leave, an extremely arrogant voice rang out.

"Boss, why is there a fly in my noodles?"

Yang Chen looked over and saw a delinquent with bright red hair standing by a table. He had a carefree air about him and looked sideways at the old man, holding a dead fly in his hand.

The old man glanced at Red Hair, then calmly replied,

"Sir, how about I let you have this bowl on the house today?"

"What kind of person do you take me for? Someone who'd take advantage of a free meal? I'm telling you, if this gives me an upset stomach, you'll pay for it!"

Red Hair sneered, propped one foot on the table, and spoke menacingly.

Some of the customers eating noodles saw what was happening, dropped their money on the table, and quietly slipped away.

They didn't want to get involved.

The old man ignored Red Hair and simply carried on with his work, as if Red Hair didn't exist. He'd seen this kind of thing plenty of times—people with nothing better to do, looking for trouble.

He knew exactly how he made his noodles. His shop might not look very nice, but it was clean. There was no way a fly could have gotten into the food.

Red Hair realized he was being ignored, and his temper flared.

"Do you know who I am? I'm an esper! I'm with Number 98!"

The old man's hand paused for a moment, then continued working.

"When did Number 98 become an organization that bullies ordinary people?"

Number 98 was an esper organization in Huaxia. All the espers in Huaxia were either registered with Number 98 or became members.

Several of Huaxia's Grandmasters were members of Number 98!

This wasn't much of a secret in Huaxia anymore. Spiritual Energy Recovery had begun so long ago that it was about time ordinary people learned a few things.

Yang Chen's brows twitched slightly. Wasn't Number 98 exactly what he'd been looking for?

Joining Number 98 would not only earn him a generous salary but also give him an official identity. Even the old aristocratic families, with their immense wealth, had no choice but to bow their heads before Number 98.

Of course, that was only if you held some standing within Number 98.

Someone like Red Hair was still beneath the notice of those financial conglomerates!

But even an ordinary member of Number 98 was someone most ordinary people couldn't afford to provoke.

After all, ordinary people were far too weak compared to espers.

And that was exactly what Red Hair was counting on!

He intended to use his status as an esper to make some quick cash.