New York The cold wind from the street blew on his face. John put on the hood of his sweatshirt and hid half of his face in the shadows.
But he didn't feel cold at all.
He hugged the paper bag tightly to his chest as if he were holding the most precious treasure in the world.
It was the hard work he had saved bit by bit after sweeping fallen leaves for more than ten days, avoiding hundreds of sneak attacks by Black Noir, and not cheating at all with Superpower.
On the return train, when John opened the wrought iron door of Long Island Estate again, the sky had completely darkened.
The light of the villa shines through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm orange color on Lawn.
Buddy was lying on the porch gnawing on a big bone that he got from nowhere. When he saw John coming back, he raised his eyelids and took a look.
"Hey, John is back. Did you buy what you wanted?"
Buddy asked vaguely.
John ignored it, pushed the door open and walked in.
In the living room, Reggie and Tommy were arguing over the fighting game on the console, while Annie was covering his ears and laughing.
Lynn was walking out of the kitchen carrying two plates of freshly fried steak.
He heard the sound of the door opening and turned his head to glance at John who was standing at the entrance changing shoes.
"I'm back, wash your hands and get ready to eat."
Lynn said casually and put the steak on the dining table.
John put the shoes away, but did not go to the bathroom immediately as usual.
He walked to the dining table and looked at Lynn who was placing the tableware, and his heartbeat accelerated uncontrollably again.
"Lynn."
John shouted.
Lynn stopped what he was doing and turned his head to look at him.
"What's wrong?"
John took out the dark black paper bag that had been hidden behind his back and handed it to Lynn with both hands.
He pursed his lips nervously, Azure's eyes staring at Lynn's face without blinking, for fear of missing any subtle expression.
"This is for you, it's getting colder."
Lynn looked at the exquisite packaging bag in front of him, and then at John who was full of expectation, with a trace of obvious astonishment flashing in his eyes.
He wiped his hands, took the paper bag, and opened it slowly.
Inside is a dark gray cashmere scarf, which is soft to the touch and the color matches the windbreaker he often wears.
Reggie and Tommy, who were playing games in the living room, stopped at some point. Even Buddy held a bone in his mouth and came to the outside of the glass door, staring curiously with his eyes.
Lynn looked at the scarf in his hand.
He didn't ask how much it cost, nor where did John get the money.
He knew better than anyone else the sweat this child had shed while sweeping leaves in the back mountain for the past ten days or so.
That is a heavy weight that cannot be measured by money.
Lynn didn't say thank you, he just took out the scarf, wrapped it around his neck, and straightened the hem.
Then he stretched out his hand and ruffled John's short golden hair.
"The color is well chosen, I like it very much."
Lynn looked into John's eyes, his voice was gentle and calm.
Hearing these words, John's heart that was hanging in the air finally fell to the ground.
He felt that all the fatigue and clumsiness in the past ten days were best compensated at this moment.
He couldn't hold it back, and raised the corners of his mouth high, revealing a satisfied giggle.
"Okay, go wash your hands. There will be mashed potatoes that you like tonight."
Lynn turned around, put away the paper bag, and walked to the kitchen to pick up the remaining dishes.
John responded loudly and ran towards the bathroom briskly.
The autumn wind outside the window seems to have become colder, but the temperature inside this Manor is just right, and everything is still going on as planned.
Soon, the early winter of Manhattan came.
But the story doesn't start with Long Island Estate.
The day after John gave the dark gray cashmere scarf to Lynn, Stan Edgar left Vought Tower alone, got into a black car without any company logo, and drove to a remote private Manor in the suburbs of New York.
The security level of this Manor is frighteningly high, but the style is very old, with the aesthetics of the 1930s and 1940s everywhere.
Edgar walked into a spacious living room under the watchful eyes of the bodyguards.
There was no heating in the room, and the air was so cold that one could breathe out hoarfrost.
A woman who looked to be in her twenties was sitting on a leather sofa, holding a tablet computer that was only available inside Vought International.
She was wearing a somewhat casual dark purple casual outfit, with neat short hair, and delicate facial features, but there was an arrogance in her eyes that made people uncomfortable.
Stormfront.
Vought International One of the oldest Supe and the wife of Founders Frederick Vought.
"What are you doing here, Edgar."
Stormfront didn't even raise his head, his fingers were still tapping on the screen, "I remember I told Board of Directors that I hate seeing your face. If Fred Rick was still alive, he would never allow a person of color to sit on his chair and give orders. This is simply a pollution of Vought International's bloodline."
Faced with this kind of blatant racial discrimination and contempt, the expression on Edgar's face didn't even waver.
As if he didn't hear those insulting words, he walked straight to the sofa opposite Stormfront and sat down, folding his hands on his knees.
"Fred Rick has been dead for a long time, madam, and now I am managing this empire for him."
Edgar's voice was smooth and without any ups and downs, "And I'm not here today just to listen to you reminisce about the past. I have a job for you."
Stormfront finally stopped what he was doing, raised his head, and looked at Edgar like he was looking at garbage.
"You want me to go to work? Who do you think you are?"
"I'm the one who can decide whether you want to continue to grow mold in this poor house."
Edgar pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose, "Vought Tower Forty floors underground, I have created a new top-secret project, several New Vanguard Camp composed of children injected with Compound V."
Stormfront sneered, "Vanguard Camp? That toy that was snatched away by Lynn? I heard that the little monster named John has now been tamed into an obedient domestic dog. Even ordinary people will rescue it. You trash can't even control a few little brats."
"Lynn controlled them with family and warmth, which indeed exceeded the company's expectations."
Edgar did not refute, "I admit it was a mistake in my decision-making, so I need you."