John's Law

Lynn stepped inside at just the right moment and patted Bob's uninjured shoulder, his tone so sincere that no one could fault it. "Bob, he's a kid. He's still growing, so he's protective of his food. He eats that nutritional mush every day. Seeing you enjoying such a delicious apple was bound to upset him a little."

Bob's eyes widened as he pointed at his splinted fingers. "So protective of his food that he broke my fingers?"

"It was an accident."

Lynn lied through his teeth without so much as blushing. "My report made it perfectly clear. You slipped and fell, and John kindly tried to help you up. But being a child, he didn't control his strength properly."

Sarah rolled her eyes, not bothering to expose such a clumsy lie.

In this underground laboratory, everyone played dumb.

They were all workers earning meager wages. To keep their jobs, and to stay alive, there was no need to invite trouble they shouldn't be meddling with.

"All right, stop howling. Go take a couple of days off."

Sarah secured the bandage and waved him away.

Once Bob left, cursing under his breath, Sarah looked at Lynn as she washed her hands. "You've got some nerve, getting that close to the little monster. Take some advice from me and stay away from him. The way he looks at people isn't human."

"Just trying to make a living." Lynn smiled, raised his coffee cup in farewell, and turned to leave the infirmary.

At eight that evening, the laboratory lights automatically dimmed to simulate a nighttime sleeping environment.

Lynn swiped his access card to open the sterile room's heavy metal door.

Little John was sitting obediently on a cushion. At the sound of the airlock, he immediately looked up.

The instant those azure eyes caught sight of Lynn, a distinct gleam of anticipation lit them up.

"How was your day, little hero?"

Lynn walked over and plopped down on the floor as usual, completely unguarded.

John puffed out his chest, his little face utterly serious. "I spent today thinking about what you said, Lynn. There's no middle ground in justice. I call it John's Law."

Lynn nearly spat out the coffee he had just sipped.

Well, now. He wasn't just a man of action, but a theorist too. He was already establishing his own code of conduct at six.

"Ahem. That's a very good idea."

Lynn hurriedly swallowed his coffee and changed the subject. "But to be a proper hero, there's something else you need to learn besides punishing evil and upholding good."

John tilted his head, his eyes full of curiosity. "What is it?"

With an air of mystery, Lynn reached into the roomy pocket of his white lab coat and pulled out two things as though performing a magic trick.

One was a large, bright red apple, washed perfectly clean. The other was a somewhat battered, colorful children's book.

John's gaze immediately locked onto the apple.

Although he possessed a godlike physique, all he could eat in this laboratory each day was precisely formulated yet unpalatable nutritional paste.

He had only ever seen natural food like this, brightly colored and fragrant with fruit, in that fat man's hand that afternoon.

"That's something the bad guy stole," John said gravely, pointing at the apple.

"No, this is the spoils a hero deserves after punishing a bad guy." Lynn handed John the apple. "Give it a try."

John hesitated, then reached out his soft, fair little hands to take the apple. Holding it in his palms, he cautiously took a bite.

A crisp crunch rang out in the quiet room, and sweet juice instantly burst across his tongue.

The little boy's eyes flew wide. He stared at the fruit in his hands in disbelief, then chewed faster and faster, his cheeks bulging like a little hamster guarding its food.

Watching him wolf it down, Lynn felt a rare flicker of warmth in his heart.

Whatever he might become in the future, and whatever godlike Outsiders and Wizards battling in the outside world he would have to face, at least for now, he was just a pitiful child locked in a glass box who had never even eaten an apple.

"Slow down. No one's going to take it from you."

Lynn reached out and gently ruffled his soft blond hair.

This time, John didn't dodge as he did with the other researchers. Instead, he stopped chewing and nuzzled his head into Lynn's palm, like a kitten being stroked.

After finishing the apple, John licked his lips, still wanting more. He even tried to swallow the core, but Lynn quickly stopped him.

Then John's gaze fell on the colorful book.

"What's that?"

"This is a textbook for learning how to be a hero."

Lynn opened the picture book. "Today's story is Puppy Hero versus Mischief Cat."

It was a children's picture book found in any supermarket outside, with childish illustrations and a simple story.

But for John, who spent his days in a sterile room surrounded by nothing but cold instruments, it was nothing less than a doorway into a new world.

Lynn leaned against the wall, and John moved closer of his own accord, pressing snugly against his arm and staring at the pictures without blinking.

"Look, Puppy Hero discovered that Mischief Cat had knocked over the trash can on the street corner and scattered garbage everywhere. That was wrong."

Lynn pointed at the picture and slowed his speech as he explained.

"Mischief Cat is a bad guy. It broke the rules." John immediately delivered an accurate judgment.

"That's right. So Puppy Hero ran over and barked loudly, scaring Mischief Cat away. Then he stood the trash can back up, keeping the street clean."

John frowned and pressed a finger against Puppy Hero in the picture, looking somewhat displeased. "Why did he only bark? He should have pounced on Mischief Cat and snapped its neck. Then Mischief Cat could never knock over another trash can."

Lynn felt his temples throbbing.

He took a deep breath and patiently guided him. "John, justice has different degrees. Can breaking a cup and committing murder and arson get the same punishment? If Mischief Cat only knocked over a trash can and you snapped its neck, wouldn't that make you an even crueler bad guy? Heroes are protectors, not butchers. For small mistakes, we need to give people a chance to make things right."

John sank deep into thought.

His little brain worked furiously, trying to reconcile Lynn's words with his own understanding of absolute justice.

"I understand."

After a long while, John looked up, his azure eyes filled with resolve. "When faced with a minor evil, I can break its legs and spare its life. That counts as giving it a chance to make things right."

Lynn opened his mouth, but for a long time, no words came out.

Fine. Going from snapping necks to breaking legs was at least some kind of progress.

Rome wasn't built in a day. Correcting this child's worldview was definitely going to be a long tug-of-war.

"Let's keep reading."

Lynn sighed and turned to the next page.

As time passed, a slightly cool breeze blew from the sterile room's vent.

Lynn's voice was low and even, as though he were telling a bedtime story, echoing softly through the spacious room.

After an unknown stretch of time, Lynn felt a weight settle against his arm.

He turned to find Little John asleep against him.

One of his hands still tightly clutched the hem of Lynn's white lab coat. His breathing was steady, and his long eyelashes cast faint shadows on his fair face.

Asleep, he had shed the daytime air of an enforcer whose righteousness bordered on sinister, and finally possessed the serenity a six-year-old child should have.

Lynn stayed still, afraid of waking the little fellow.

With one hand, he pulled a spare thin blanket from the cabinet beside him and gently draped it over John. Then he closed his own eyes and leaned against the wall for a nap.