Children always yearn for the freedom they don't understand

Just as Xiang Qian and his party were about to reach the entrance to General Ross's command post, they turned around and walked away, completely ignoring the bewildered looks of the sentries at the door.

Led personally by Worthington II, the group ascended to the core experimental zone on the third floor. The young boy, Jimmy, was the key to the mutant gene cure, and his hospital room—or rather, his cell—was also located within this experimental area.

In front of the room lay a long corridor; the architecture here largely retained the old, outdated structure from when Alcatraz Island served as a prison. On one side of the corridor were windows facing the sea, while the other side consisted of laboratories converted from former prison offices, along with living quarters.

Although it was past seven in the evening, brilliant rays of light still illuminated the sky beneath the horizon of the western sea. The faint glow shone through the windows, painting the corridor in shades of fiery red.

A phone ringtone suddenly erupted from Worthington II. The elderly white man picked up the phone with an apologetic expression, intending to hang up immediately out of courtesy to his guests, but after a glance at the screen, his face changed drastically, and he hurriedly answered.

"What happened, Doctor? You should be looking after Warren Jr. right now..." Worthington II said into the phone, his voice tense. Before he could finish, he heard a series of gasps from the entourage behind him.

Xiang Qian and Worthington II turned toward the sound, only to see their attendants rushing to the windows to look outside, occasionally exclaiming things like "God" and "That's an angel."

Curious, Xiang Qian walked to the window and looked in the direction everyone was staring. A figure was soaring through the sky with wings spread wide. Under the glow of the sunset, the person's originally white wings were draped in a divine, golden light.

Many of the people peering through the window were already crossing themselves. Amidst the cries of "God" and "angel," the figure in the sky flew further and further away against the sunset.

Xiang Qian withdrew his gaze and turned to look at Worthington II, who was also staring blankly out the window.

"That must be your little angel?" Xiang Qian asked.

Worthington II snapped back to reality, forcing an awkward smile. "I suppose so. I don't know, Warren Jr. he..." He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly remembering the phone in his hand, and raised it to his ear like lightning.

"Doctor, I saw it, everyone saw it. What is going on with Warren Jr.? Didn't you administer the medicine?" Worthington II fired questions at the other end of the line like a machine gun.

"He escaped? Why... My God, what have you people done?"

Watching Worthington II's visibly incoherent state, Xiang Qian largely understood what had transpired.

"A free soul, unwilling to accept the shackles of others, unwilling to follow the path arranged by his elders, and choosing to embrace the fate bestowed upon him." Xiang Qian recited the words like an aria, then turned and walked toward Jimmy's room.

Worthington II was completely bewildered and had to hang up the phone in a hurry, chasing after him with long strides.

"James, I am truly sorry you had to see such a thing; that boy, Warren Jr. ..." Worthington II stammered, terrified that the commotion caused by his son would negatively impact Xiang Qian's investment intentions.

Xiang Qian couldn't have cared less about such things. He smiled and said, "Adolescent restlessness; it's understandable. We've all been through that phase."

Worthington II offered an awkward smile. It was true that everyone went through adolescence, but the age gap between Xiang Qian and Warren was only five or six years. Was this attitude of ignoring the age difference and talking about Warren Jr. as if he were a junior of his own not a bit strange?

Opening the door to Jimmy's room, Xiang Qian saw a simply furnished, stark white space. A thin figure was standing at the head of the bed, clutching the small window high up on the wall to look outside.

Hearing the door open, the thin figure turned around abruptly, revealing a pale, bald face to Xiang Qian.

Xiang Qian glanced toward the small window. From his angle, he could only see the towering pillars of the Golden Gate Bridge and the now-faded sunset on the horizon—but he had already guessed what the little boy had just been watching.

"Did you see the person flying away?" Xiang Qian asked gently.

Jimmy seemed to suffer from severe introversion; he didn't speak, just stared for a long time before giving a slight nod.

"Envious?" Xiang Qian pressed. "Do you wish you could be like him?"

A spark flashed in Jimmy's eyes, and he blurted out, "Can I?"

"No!" Xiang Qian shattered the child's fantasy without hesitation; the cold undertone hidden beneath his gentle smile made even Worthington II look on in shock.

The light in Jimmy's eyes dimmed rapidly.

"Jimmy, you've been here for quite a while. You should understand the problem you have, right?" Xiang Qian said. "The traits you possess make it impossible for you to enjoy freedom like an ordinary person."

Jimmy nodded. Perhaps infected by Xiang Qian's gentle smile, he was willing to speak: "My parents said I'm sick."

"Sick?" Xiang Qian was noncommittal. "From some people's perspective, that's correct. But from another angle, one could consider it a miraculous gift. Personally, I prefer the second interpretation."

Jimmy remained standing stiffly at the head of the bed. "The Minister said that, too."

"Minister?" Xiang Qian frowned.

Worthington II hurriedly explained, "Minister McCoy, from the Department of Mutant Affairs."

"Oh..." Xiang Qian realized. "Beast."

"Does he look like a Smurf from a cartoon, with a face full of..." Xiang Qian deliberately stopped, using his hands to gesture a "furry" appearance around his face.

For the first time, Jimmy couldn't help but laugh.

"Did the Minister say anything else?" Xiang Qian asked.

Jimmy shook his head.

"Yes, some things are not easy to say." Xiang Qian paced slowly toward Jimmy. "Many mutants view you as the savior who will end their suffering—though they don't know you exist; yet, there are others who see you as a disaster threatening the survival of mutants."

Jimmy, a child who had been locked in a hospital room for years, had no psychological resilience. Hearing Xiang Qian's words, he stiffened, standing woodenly at the head of the bed, forgetting to even climb down.

Let alone Jimmy, even Worthington II, the only person accompanying them into the room, became anxious.

Worthington Industries had long used Jimmy to develop the mutant gene cure. While they had effectively restricted his freedom, they had always been careful to monitor his mental health. He never expected Xiang Qian to repeatedly provoke the child's emotions the moment they met.

This was their golden goose, the only source of the mutant gene cure. What if he was pushed too far and something went wrong? Worthington II wanted to interrupt, but he was afraid of angering Xiang Qian, so he paced back and forth in a panic.

Xiang Qian had already reached the window, looking up at Jimmy, who stood high above.

"Which one do you choose to be? The savior, or the disaster?"

Jimmy shook his head blankly, and after a long time, he murmured, "I don't want to choose."

"That won't do, Jimmy." Xiang Qian shattered the child's fantasy once more. "Your talent has already decided it; you cannot escape this choice."

Jimmy's helpless gaze darted back and forth between Xiang Qian and Worthington II.

"Why me? Perhaps, as Mr. Worthington said, this is a curse. I want to be rid of it!" Jimmy's emotions began to escalate; Xiang Qian's repeated prodding had finally produced consequences.