He had gotten a taste of success at the last party. Over the past month, outside of classes, he had spent every day making the rounds of parties and clubs. Thanks to his generosity and decent looks, he had activated Copy quite a few times.
The result was the LV3 Super Physique he now possessed. It had come from fusing dozens of LV1 abilities and several LV2 ones.
Lucian bent down and picked something up off the floor. It was the Glock 19 he had bought on the black market. Since he had not yet reached New York City's legal age for gun ownership, he had been forced to pay a premium of several hundred dollars for it. There was still a round in the chamber. He stared at the brass-colored bullet for two seconds, then pressed the muzzle against his left thigh.
He pulled the trigger.
Bang.
The gunshot exploded through the empty private shooting range. The bullet penetrated a centimeter into his thigh muscle and lodged there. Blood welled up and ran down his leg, forming a small puddle on the floor.
Lucian clenched his teeth. It felt like someone had stabbed him with a red-hot awl. He bent down, pinched the base of the bullet between two fingers, and pulled it out. It hurt badly, but this was a necessary test.
He grabbed a towel, pressed it against the wound, and leaned against the wall, panting.
It seemed his LV3 Super Physique could withstand bullets from small-caliber handguns. Perhaps after fusing a few more LV2 physiques, he could become barely bulletproof, roughly on par with The Deep. But the higher these superpowers' levels went, the larger the gaps became. He judged that Starlight and Neuman probably had LV4 Super Physique. At that level, they could ignore handgun bullets, and even anti-materiel sniper rifles could only slow them down.
Lucian tossed the bloody towel into the trash and pulled on a T-shirt. He still needed to climb higher.
On Friday night, the lawn was ablaze again.
This time, someone had set a scrapped Beetle on fire. Hundreds of people danced around it, like some primitive tribal ceremony. Drake's latest song played through the speakers.
Lucian leaned against the makeshift bar, holding an unopened can of Budweiser. He simply held it, letting the chill of the can seep through his palm to remind himself to stay clearheaded.
"You look bored to death."
A voice came from his right. Blonde hair, tan skin, and a skirt so short it practically broke the rules. Her name was Megan, and Lucian had met her at last week's party. Megan rested a hand on his shoulder, her fingertips sliding down his collarbone and stopping on his chest. She leaned close, her lips almost brushing his earlobe.
"My roommate's out tonight." Her breath carried a mix of tequila and mint gum. "Building C, room 202. If you want to come over, don't bother knocking."
Lucian gave her a casual response.
He had copied his LV1 Super Senses from a freshman. Now those senses spread like an invisible net, laying bare every piece of information on Megan's body.
Three different scents lingered on the skin along her neck. One was woody sandalwood, another was cheap sea salt and citrus, and the third was cloyingly sweet with a hint of marijuana. Someone else's tobacco scent hid at the roots of her hair. Her pulse was fast, a hundred and ten beats per minute, probably because she had just finished some strenuous exercise and her metabolism had yet to slow down.
Lucian tilted his head slightly, looking past Megan's shoulder toward the other end of the lawn. Three guys stood drinking beer together. One of them, wearing sea salt and citrus cologne, was glancing their way.
"Not tonight," Lucian said.
Megan's fingers stiffened. "What?"
"I said, not tonight." Lucian took her hand off his chest, held it in his palm, gave it a gentle squeeze, then let go. "You've got three different stories on you. I'm not interested in sharing the same path as the people in those stories."
Megan's expression shifted, and she stepped back, her high heels sinking into the turf.
"Fuck! Who do you think you are?"
"Someone with an early class tomorrow." Lucian set his unopened beer on the bar, turned, and left.
He made his way through the crowd and heard Megan curse behind him, "Asian asshole."
Over the past month, scenes like this had repeated six or seven times. Godolkin's parties were hunting grounds, but they were also minefields. Some girls were genuinely interested in him; others just wanted a fuck buddy. Lucian's Super Senses had become a filter, screening out most of the trouble for him.
On Monday morning, Lucian went to breakfast with Jordan.
A matte-black Lamborghini was parked outside the cafeteria. Its engine was still running, hot exhaust puffing from its tailpipe. Two people stood beside it.
One was Golden Boy. Luke Riordan. The school was grooming him to be the next Homelander. Lucian judged that he had at least an LV4 physique, along with flight and flames granted by some kind of thermonuclear ability. Supposedly, when he was angry, the flames on his body grew hot enough to melt steel.
A slightly shorter Black guy stood beside him, spinning a coin between his fingers.
Andre. Magnetic Field Manipulation. His ability was fairly rare, but underwhelming in actual combat: limited range, poor precision, more than enough against ordinary people, but he was basically crushed by anyone with a slightly stronger body. Overusing it would even damage him. His father, however, was the veteran superhero Polarity, so he had gone straight into Crimefighting Class upon enrollment and spent every day joined at the hip with Golden Boy. Judging by the plot, there was reasonable cause to suspect this guy swung both ways.
Jordan nudged Lucian with an elbow. "Look, Godolkin's number one."
Golden Boy raised his head and swept his gaze across the crowd, treating everyone as background scenery by default. He said something to Andre, and they both laughed before getting into the Lamborghini. Its engine roared as they drove toward the teaching building reserved for Crimefighting Class.
He watched the direction in which the Lamborghini had disappeared. Golden Boy's flames and flight, Andre's Magnetic Field Manipulation-all good things. But right now, he had little opportunity to get close to Golden Boy. Not only was he a major focus of the school's attention, but his own abilities were also immensely powerful. Brute force probably would not work.
Back in his dorm room, Lucian locked the door.
He stood in front of the bathroom mirror and carefully inspected the gunshot wound on his thigh. It had already scabbed over. The new skin was pink, and pressing it caused a faint, dull ache.
He opened the System Panel and scanned the entries one by one:
[Shockwave LV2] [Mind Control LV3] [Super Physique LV3 (Fusion Enhancement)] [Super Senses LV1]
For now, this was enough. Enough for him to get involved in the Translucent incident.
Translucent's abilities. Carbon Skin. Invisibility.
That skin was one of the most practical defenses in The Boys Universe. If he could copy it, he would have almost nothing to worry about when it came to his external defenses in this world. He was considering whether to simply wait until Butcher kidnapped Translucent and found himself unable to do anything to him, then step in to handle it, or passively wait for Butcher to come to him. Butcher was always looking for people who had been hurt by Supes and whom he could use. The Quake incident offered a point of entry.
But considering Butcher's hostility toward Supes, stepping in directly would be better. Using his memory-erasing ability should let him pull it off. Still, once he had copied the abilities, he would have to leave Translucent with them. Those people were far too good at stirring up trouble. He had to let them go, then slowly reap one crop after another.
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