Wandering

Only then did Ryan notice something strange about the alley: the space around him was unusually unstable.

It seemed to reject him, trying to drive him out and kick him back to his own world.

As for why Bruce Wayne was in the alley...

Maybe he had nothing better to do.

Bruce Wayne.

Ryan searched his memory for what he knew about him.

A rich man from Gotham City. Just how rich?

When his butler told him to keep a low profile, he said, "Then I'll have to take the Lamborghini out today."

Ryan didn't quite understand a rich man's idea of keeping a low profile. Still, Bruce Wayne was the sort of privileged young man who treated money like it meant nothing.

And here he was in an alley piled with garbage and crawling with rats, holding out his hands alongside the homeless men to soak up the warmth of a fire in a barrel.

That was enough to make anyone curious.

So Ryan walked over to the burning barrel. Homeless men surrounded it on all sides, and he was too small to squeeze in.

With no other choice, he took out some money and got one of them to turn around.

"I'll buy your spot. This is enough for a warm leather coat."

"You're giving me money?"

The man held out his hand in confusion. It was greasy, probably from rummaging through a dumpster not long ago.

Ryan handed him the money and nodded.

"Yes."

"Thanks."

The air fell silent for a moment.

Then the man turned back to the fire. He neither moved nor paid Ryan any more attention.

Thinking the man had forgotten, Ryan reminded him.

"You've taken the money. Time to go."

The man laughed at him.

It was the kind of laugh that said Ryan had never learned how the world worked the hard way.

"Where'd this brat come from? Buying a spot? Run home and cry to your mommy."

"..."

Ryan realized then that talking nicely wasn't going to get him anywhere. He gave the man a casual swat.

The homeless man flew to one side and rolled several times across the ground.

He stopped only when he struck the alley's blackened wall.

Ryan had controlled his strength this time. The man climbed to his feet and wiped the blood from a scrape on his forehead.

Then he gave Ryan a frightened look.

A kid had taken his old spot and was holding his hands toward the flames flickering inside the barrel.

It was strange.

And the kid was clearly not someone to mess with.

The homeless man's sense of danger kicked in. He made no attempt to retaliate and ran off.

Around the barrel, the others glanced at the newcomer.

A child who could send a grown man flying with one swat.

He was terrifying.

They looked away and did not stare again.

Only one man kept watching Ryan without a trace of fear.

Bruce Wayne was one of Gotham City's elite. It took more than that to frighten him.

"Don't you have a home to go to? You're still out at this hour."

He asked the question gently.

Ryan heard him, but kept his eyes on the fire.

Red flames flickered quietly inside the barrel, warming the people around it.

A source of heat like this was a curious thing.

In the bitter cold, it warmed only the front of a person's body.

Their back remained exposed to the chill.

They were still cold, yet they couldn't bring themselves to leave the fire.

All they could do was edge closer to the flames, like moths.

Of course, people weren't moths.

Ryan lowered his gaze to the iron barrel holding the fire. Iron conducted heat well.

Get any closer, and a person might as well be pressed against a branding iron.

Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne was a little displeased that Ryan hadn't answered him.

In his irritation, he repeated himself.

"Has Gotham City come to this? Even a child like you has to live on the streets."

"This is Gotham?"

Ryan warmed his hands, his gaze returning to the flames.

Wayne thought about the question before answering.

"Yes. You don't even know the city's name?"

"I do now. Gotham. The sky over this city is always covered in gloom. It never clears."

"..."

The unexpected answer left Bruce Wayne silent. He turned to look at the boy.

Handsome features and eyes that gave nothing away.

Even a child who stood out this much had somehow ended up wandering the streets.

Wayne chose his words before continuing.

"That's why I want to change things. The first step is understanding. I need to live as a drifter to see just how rotten Gotham has become."

"So you're here to see how the other half lives."

Ryan pulled his hands back from the fire. Now he understood why the privileged Wayne was dressed like a wanderer.

Still, there was more to ask.

"How do you plan to change it?"

"I intend to travel the world and learn many martial arts. Once I'm strong enough, I'll return to Gotham and change things."

This time, Ryan didn't know what to say.

He gave Bruce Wayne a look that said, Whatever makes you happy.

Does he think he can punch his way to a brighter tomorrow?

Ryan knew something of Bruce Wayne's future from the shows he had watched.

The man would travel far and wide, learn more than a hundred martial arts, and train his body to a ridiculous degree.

After that, he would return to Gotham City and take on a role much like a superhero's.

Batman.

Batman, Gotham's Dark Knight. His superpower was the power of money, which he used to buy an expensive suit of high-tech equipment to fight his enemies.

Formidable and fragile all at once.

Those memories passed through Ryan's mind, and he said no more.

At least he understood one thing now: this did not seem to be just the world of The Boys.

But that could wait. First, Ryan needed to sort out his relationship with Vought International.

Vought's superheroes would not leave him alone. Ryan knew that. He had beaten up A-Train, and he was the illegitimate son of Vought's biggest star.

There was no way they would let him roam free.

Ryan had warmed himself long enough. As the fuel burned down, the flames in the barrel seemed to grow weaker.

The fire needed more fuel.

Ryan looked at Wayne beside him. His coat appeared to be an ordinary black jacket.

In truth, it was understated luxury. Buying another just like it...

Would cost a small fortune.

"Could you throw your coat in? The fire's running out of fuel."

Ryan had pointed out the problem, but Wayne shook his head at once.

"A coat keeps you warm for as long as you wear it. A fire only burns for a while. What brought you out here?"

"Me?"

Touched by the concern in his voice, Ryan began to spin a wild story.

"Same as the average American drifter."

"The same how?"

"I couldn't repay my loans, my property was seized, and my assets were frozen. What else could I do but live on the streets?"

"I see."

Wayne sighed. The boy clearly wasn't telling the truth. Between his clothes and the ease with which he had handed over money, his story made no sense.

But Bruce Wayne did not call him out. A man of near-limitless wealth could afford to play along.

He pulled a check from his pocket, intending to help the boy pay off his supposed debt.

After all, the sum probably would not amount to pocket change for him.

But as Wayne wondered what figure Ryan might write on the check, he noticed something he had overlooked.

The person he had been talking to was just a child who had yet to finish growing.

What property could he own?

What debts could he have?

Seen that way, Ryan's story was even more absurd.

Ryan paid none of it any mind. He withdrew his hands from the fire and headed out of the alley, calling back as he left.

"If you ever need help, come find me. I can give you a good price."

"Not too good a price."

"I'll charge you thirty percent above the market rate."

"Mm."

Ryan waved and walked away. Night had settled completely.

Even with darkness stirring around him, Ryan felt no urge to sleep.

He glanced at his palm. His powerful body brimmed with energy.

"I wonder what this city looks like from above. Let's find out."

With that decided, he flew straight into the sky and used his far-seeing vision to search the surroundings.

The entire city lay open beneath his gaze.