You call shattering someone's bones into pieces considerate?!

"Listen, sir. I'm a busy man. I've got a talk show to film this afternoon. You dragged me out of bed first thing in the morning and brought me to this basement just to watch some little brat grab glass marbles?"

Lynn looked at the muddy tactical boots on his desk and frowned slightly.

"Madelyn, you didn't bring him here to have tea with me, did you?"

"Orders from President Edgar." Madelyn handed over a document. "John's static test results have already maxed out. We need a dynamic combat assessment. Not just to assess his strength, but also the 'emotional control' you've been teaching him."

Lynn understood.

They wanted a sparring partner for John, to see whether he could stay rational when facing a superpowered opponent, particularly one with an obnoxious mouth.

"Are you sure you want to send him in?"

Lynn glanced at Sparks, who was still blowing bubbles, and spoke sincerely. "This kid looks pretty young. If he ends up disabled, won't that be hard to explain to public relations?"

Sparks popped his bubble with a snap, his expression darkening.

"Hey, pencil pusher, do you even understand what's going on? I can release a hundred thousand volts in an instant! You want me to spar with some bed-wetting brat? I'm afraid I might accidentally fry him into a roast suckling pig!"

Lynn sighed.

Good advice could never save someone hell-bent on getting himself killed.

"All right."

Lynn pressed the communication button on his desk. "John, stop for a moment. A new friend wants to play a game with you."

A few minutes later, the Training Ground's isolation door opened.

Sparks swaggered inside, rolling his neck.

John was neatly arranging the last few glass marbles on a metal tray.

When he saw the newcomer, he stopped and sized him up with his clear blue eyes.

"You're not wearing a lab coat, and you haven't brought a weapon."

John's voice was clear and calm. "Are you a bad guy or a tester?"

"I'm your daddy, short stuff."

Sparks sneered and clapped his hands together, two dazzling blue arcs crackling in his palms. "Listen, I don't care which executive's bastard you are. If you start crying from the pain, don't say I didn't warn you."

John ignored his provocation and instead looked up at Lynn behind the glass of the second-floor control room.

Lynn spoke through the microphone. "John, this is a combat simulation. Your opponent has superpowers. Remember who you are, and remember the rules I taught you. Don't go too far."

"Understood, Lynn."

Hearing Lynn's instructions, John immediately looked away and stood up straight.

Then he made an effort to adjust his facial muscles, producing a bright, sunny "heroic smile" so perfect that no one could find fault with it.

Paired with his delicate face, that smile would have absolutely melted any ordinary person outside.

But with a fight about to begin, it had an eerie quality that made people's skin crawl.

The smile unnerved Sparks, filling him with an inexplicable anger.

"Quit playing games!"

He roared and thrust both hands forward.

A thick bolt of blue lightning shot across the dozen-odd meters like a raging python and slammed into John!

Boom!

Dazzling electrical light instantly engulfed the small figure, the high-voltage current producing a piercing crack as it tore through the air.

In the monitoring room, Madelyn instinctively clenched her fists.

But when the electrical light faded, the sight inside the Training Ground made everyone hold their breath.

John still stood in the same spot, the curve of that standard smile not shifting even a millimeter.

Aside from a few tiny static sparks flickering over the surface of his black training clothes, he was completely unharmed.

A hundred thousand volts seemed no different to him from a light breeze.

"This... how is this possible?!"

Sparks's eyes widened, and he took a step back as though he had seen a ghost.

"You didn't follow the rules."

Still wearing that unnerving smile, John slowly spoke. "You attacked before the other person was ready. That's a sneak attack. Sneak attacks are what bad guys do."

Before he had finished speaking, John's figure vanished from the spot.

Sparks did not even have time to see John move. His vision blurred, and the little blond devil was already standing in front of him.

"Die!" Overcome with terror, Sparks instinctively tried to discharge all the electricity in his body.

But the moment he raised his hand, John's small, soft hand gently settled on his wrist.

"Lynn said heroes have to maintain their image. They can't make a bloody mess."

John stared straight into Sparks's eyes, his voice as gentle as if he were telling a bedtime story. "Besides, you have to be on television."

Crack!

There was no tearing, no flying flesh and blood.

John merely flicked his wrist, unleashing a terrifying burst of precisely applied force.

A series of rapid cracks came from Sparks's right arm.

Beneath the surrounding muscle, his ulna and radius shattered inch by inch!

"Aaaaaah!!!"

Sparks let out an agonized howl and dropped to his knees in pain.

But John did not stop.

Still wearing that perfect smile, he reached out with his other hand, grabbed Sparks's flashy collar, and casually flung him away like a battered sack.

Thud!

Sparks traced an arc through the air and slammed into the Alloy Wall at the edge of the Training Ground, instantly losing consciousness. He slid down the wall, leaving a shocking streak of blood.

The entire fight had taken less than ten seconds.

A deathly silence returned to the Training Ground.

John turned around and looked up at Lynn on the second floor.

The standard smile instantly vanished from his face, replaced by the expectant expression of a child seeking praise.

"Lynn, did I do it right?"

John's voice came clearly through the microphone into the office.

"I didn't use Heat Vision, and I didn't tear his hand off. I controlled my strength so it was just enough to shatter his bones."

John earnestly explained his reasoning. "And I didn't break his legs. You said he had to be on television this afternoon. He can cover a broken arm with his clothes, but with broken legs, he wouldn't be able to walk onstage. Wasn't I considerate?"

Inside the office.

Madelyn felt that her back was already soaked in cold sweat.

Looking down at that innocent little face, she understood deeply for the first time exactly what President Edgar had meant by "an active volcano wrapped in beautiful turf."

The boy's logic was flawless, perfectly complying with every rule Lynn had taught him.

Yet the indifference and cruelty in his bones grew unchecked through the gaps between those rules.

Lynn's hand stiffened slightly around his coffee cup.

He took a deep breath and pressed the communication button.

"...Very well done, John. Your control of your strength was simply textbook, and you really did take the public relations department's difficulties into account. We can have an extra plate of fried chicken tonight."

At Lynn's praise, John gave an excited little jump, then obediently walked aside. He even thoughtfully picked up a rag, preparing to wipe away the blood Sparks had left on the wall.

"Director, the results of your teaching... are truly impressive."

Madelyn swallowed, a trace of genuine awe entering her gaze as she looked at Lynn.

"You're too kind, Madelyn."

Lynn set down his coffee cup, outwardly steady as a rock while inwardly roaring.

Considerate? You call shattering someone's bones into pieces considerate?!

It seemed that after establishing "rules" for this kid, he still had to find a way to teach him what human empathy actually meant.

The road ahead was long indeed. Raising this little overlord was going to be the death of him.