Too loud

On the streets of Manhattan, New York.

The three o'clock afternoon sun poured unobstructed onto bustling Fifth Avenue.

Yellow taxis darted through traffic like beetles. Shrill horns, the smoky aroma rising from roadside hot dog stands, and Michael Jackson's "Beat It" playing from a boombox on a street corner blended into a street atmosphere brimming with the distinctive energy of the late eighties.

Lynn stood at the intersection and took a deep, greedy breath of air tinged with exhaust fumes and cheap perfume.

"Cough, cough..."

Although it made him cough, a heartfelt smile of pure enjoyment spread across Lynn's face.

It had been two whole years.

For more than seven hundred and thirty days and nights, he had been like a hamster living in a sterile glass jar, breathing synthetic air that had passed through thirteen layers of filtration every day and looking up at simulated incandescent lights that never flickered.

Now, feeling the breeze brush his cheeks and the genuine warmth of sunlight on his body, Lynn even found the plump woman loudly arguing with her husband by the roadside pleasant to look at.

"Lynn, the air here is filthy. Why do you look so happy?"

A hushed voice, carrying a hint of distaste and unease, came from beside Lynn's legs.

The speaker was a little boy wearing a gray hoodie and faded blue jeans.

A New York Mets baseball cap sat low on his head, its brim pulled down to hide his conspicuous blond hair and half his finely featured face.

The boy held a thick leash. At its other end, Buddy, an enormous golden retriever weighing over seventy jin, had his tongue out as he excitedly sniffed all around a roadside fire hydrant.

This was John, who had taken off his Stars and Stripes battle suit and changed into an entirely civilian outfit.

"Because this is what everyday life feels like, little champ."

Lynn ruffled John's cap-covered head, then pulled a few crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and walked toward a roadside hot dog stand.

"Two classic hot dogs, extra mustard and pickles. And two cans of Coke at room temperature."

"Coming right up, buddy! Beautiful weather today. Taking your little brother out to walk the dog?"

The plump, heavily bearded vendor greeted them warmly, deftly using tongs to tuck sizzling sausages into buns and adding an extra squirt of yellow mustard.

"Yeah, showing him the real New York." Lynn smiled as he took the hot dogs and handed one to John.

With the dog in tow, they walked over to a bench in a small park amid the streets and sat down.

John lowered his head to look at the food wrapped in plain greaseproof paper in his hand.

There was none of the laboratory's protein-rich food measured precisely to the gram, nor any gourmet chef's elegant plating. This was simply a carb bomb of starch, grease, and cheap condiments.

He tentatively took a small bite.

The texture was coarse, but the sharpness of mustard and the sausage's juices instantly burst across his mouth, delivering an extremely simple, blunt satisfaction.

"It tastes... a little strange, but it's not bad."

John gave an objective assessment.

Soon, however, his brows gradually drew together, and even his chewing slowed.

Leaving the superbly soundproofed Basement and stepping into this unsheltered real world was nothing short of a disaster for his super senses, which had never undergone systematic training.

"It's too loud."

John covered one ear, his face growing a little pale. "I can hear someone smashing glass three blocks away. I can hear the friction on the underground tracks. I can also hear... that woman pushing a stroller up ahead. Her heart is beating fast because she's anxious."

Countless chaotic sounds, smells, and heartbeats flooded his brain like a raging tsunami, briefly stalling even the processing ability he took such pride in. A faint red glow of irritation even began to show in his eyes.

"Close your eyes, John."

Lynn took a big bite of his hot dog and spoke indistinctly. "The world is noisy by nature. You can't force it to quiet down for you, and you can't destroy everything making noise just because you find it loud. You have to learn to turn off the switches you don't need yourself."

John obediently closed his eyes.

"Now, imagine those sounds as different stations on a radio. You don't need to listen to every station. You only need to tune in to the one you want to hear most."

Lynn guided him patiently. "Filter out the cars. Filter out the heartbeats of the people around us. Listen only to my voice."

John took a deep breath, and his extraordinarily powerful brain began actively blocking out those useless physical sound waves.

Gradually, the clamor of the streets receded.

The wind grew quieter.

All that remained in his world was the sound of Lynn chewing his hot dog and the steady, strong heartbeat in Lynn's chest.

John opened his eyes and let out a long breath.

"I did it."

He looked at Lynn, a little more relaxed now. "The outside world is dirty and noisy, but... it's pretty interesting."

"That's right. Learn to control your power instead of letting your power control you."

Lynn handed him a napkin to wipe his mouth. "Come on. Let's take a walk through Central Park up ahead."

The two of them and their dog walked slowly along the sidewalk.

Sunlight filtered through the London plane trees lining the road, scattering dappled light and shadow across the ground.

The moment Buddy entered the park, he completely let loose, breaking free of the leash and racing joyfully across the grass, drawing good-natured laughter from several families picnicking nearby.

Just then, startled cries came from a paved path not far away.

A little girl of only three or four, wearing a pink dress, was giggling as she chased a ball, tottering straight onto the main path used by fast-moving bicycles.

Fifty meters away, a young man in tight cycling clothes was speeding downhill on a road bike.

By the time he saw the little girl suddenly run out, even slamming on the brakes was too late.

"Oh my God! Sophie! Come back!"

On the lawn, a young mother let out a heart-rending scream and ran desperately toward her, but she could not possibly reach her in time.

The bicycle was about to strike that fragile little life.

Standing a dozen or so meters away, John turned his head and looked at Lynn with his clear blue eyes.

In the past, his mind would have been calculating, Would saving her earn me a reward from the big boss? or What value does such a weak creature have?

"Go."

Lynn wasted no words and simply gave a slight nod.

Whoosh-

There was no sonic boom, nor any exaggerated display of descending from the heavens like a divine warrior.

John used only one percent of his super speed. To an ordinary person's naked eye, it was like a gust of wind sweeping past.