Chapter 144: Last thing to do before starting
Chapter 144: Last thing to do before starting
"Today, we’re not going to train."
The words left Blake’s mouth the moment the final bell rang.
For the first time in two weeks, they weren’t automatically walking toward the bus stop that led to Myles’ house. The routine had become so ingrained that Blake almost found it strange to be the one interrupting it.
Beside him, Myles glanced over.
"Why?"
Blake shrugged, adjusting the strap of his backpack.
"I’m just not in the mood to train today."
That wasn’t exactly a lie.
His body wasn’t exhausted anymore, not after two weeks of conditioning, but mentally...
Tonight was the infiltration.
He didn’t want to spend the afternoon getting punched, thrown onto mats, or exhausting every muscle in his body before sneaking into a secret facility.
He needed to stay fresh.
Still, he couldn’t exactly say that.
"So," Blake continued casually, "I figured we’d do something else instead."
Myles waited.
"It has been about two weeks since Zlatan got hospitalized. He should’ve been discharged by now. I asked him if he wanted to meet up."
"..."
"We’re just going to check how he’s doing."
Myles looked away.
His expression didn’t change much, but Blake could tell he wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea.
"So?"
Blake tilted his head, crossing his arms.
"Not going perhaps?"
Myles stayed quiet for another second before giving a small shake of his head.
"No. I am going."
"Good."
The two of them continued walking toward the bus stop without another word.
When the bus arrived, Blake climbed aboard first and found one of the single seats near the middle.
Myles didn’t bother looking for another place to sit. Instead, he simply stood beside Blake, one hand holding onto the overhead rail as the bus pulled away from the curb.
For several minutes, only the sound of the engine filled the silence.
"We’re only meeting for around ten minutes, near my house. And then everyone goes their separate ways."
"Why did you tell Zlatan where you live?"
Blake sighed dramatically, then, he slowly turned toward Myles.
"Do you want to lose your talking privilege?"
Myles immediately stopped speaking.
Blake stared at him for another second before looking back out the window.
The corners of his mouth twitched.
He barely managed to stop himself from laughing.
Somehow threatening Myles with losing his talking privilege had become strangely effective.
Who would’ve guessed?
Honestly, he felt a little guilty, but he needed any excuse to avoid training today.
If inviting Zlatan over accomplished that goal, then Blake considered the plan a complete success.
The infiltration occupied enough of his thoughts already.
The last thing he wanted was to spend the evening sore and exhausted before risking his life.
The bus eventually slowed to a stop.
Blake stood.
Myles stepped off after him.
The two walked quietly through the familiar neighborhood until the houses gradually gave way to a small public park.
Even before reaching the benches, Blake spotted Zlatan.
"Of course."
He couldn’t help muttering under his breath.
Zlatan sat beneath the shade of a large tree with one leg crossed elegantly over the other, a book resting comfortably in his hands.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves above him, creating shifting patches of light that landed almost perfectly across his platinum-blond hair.
His profile looked almost unreal.
Like some artist had spent twenty hours carefully painting every detail.
Like a fairy who had accidentally wandered into a public park.
Blake glanced sideways.
Myles had noticed it too.
The two of them looked at each other, and neither said anything.
Yet the exact same thought crossed both of their minds.
...
’How unbelievably performative.’
Blake almost wanted to applaud.
After all, there was no way someone naturally looked that picturesque while reading, right?
Clearing his throat, Blake called out,
"Hey."
Zlatan looked up immediately, his face brightening into a smile.
"Blake."
He closed his book before standing.
"And Myles. Hello."
Blake resisted the urge to squint.
’How is one person capable of smiling that brightly? It is honestly a little blinding...’
Zlatan walked over, stopping in front of them.
"Thank you for checking up on me."
He looked directly at Blake first.
"I appreciate it."
Then his gaze shifted toward Myles, a slow grin spreading across his face.
"Oh, and of course..."
His grin somehow became even more shameless.
"...I appreciate your worrying too."
Blake immediately looked away.
’Nope. No way I’m getting involved in... whatever this dynamic is.’
The atmosphere somehow became even stranger than usual.
Myles simply stared back with his usual blank expression.
Zlatan looked thoroughly entertained.
Blake internally sighed.
The mood couldn’t possibly have been any weirder.
"So!"
He clapped his hands together.
"I wanted to make up for what happened."
"Oh my, it wasn’t even your fault. You’re nothing like Myles, really."
Blake’s eyes twitched.
’I know that we aren’t alike. If we were, it would be Myles inviting him out to apologize...’
Still, he kept his smile on.
"I was thinking, how about some ice cream, as a proper apology."
Zlatan laughed softly.
"I’d like that."
The three of them started walking toward a nearby ice cream shop.
Unfortunately...
Or perhaps fortunately for Zlatan...
People noticed a lot.
Blake caught more than one passerby glancing in their direction.
Then glancing again.
Then whispering something to whoever they were walking with.
Almost all of those looks landed on Zlatan.
Blake scratched the back of his head.
’Well, I guess I understand.’
Compared to someone who looked like he’d stepped out of a fantasy novel, Blake himself wasn’t particularly eye-catching.
He was short, pretty-looking yeah, but overall forgettable.
Even Myles attracted a fair amount of attention with his height and sharp features.
Yet compared to Zlatan, not even close.
’Woah, so unfair. Maybe it would’ve been easker to seduce Myles with those looks...’
Once they had all bought their ice cream, they found another bench nearby.
Blake sat down first.
Zlatan naturally took the spot beside him.
There was still plenty of room left, but well, Myles remained standing next to the bench while calmly eating his own ice cream.
Beside him, Zlatan quietly looked between the two.
Then another amused chuckle escaped him.
Blake turned.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Zlatan’s smile widened, his eyes shifting toward Myles.
Myles immediately glared back,it wasn’t an angry glare.
More... a very clear "shut up."
Zlatan responded with an expression that practically screamed "Look at the situation you’ve gotten yourself into."
The silent exchange lasted barely two seconds.
Blake watched it unfold with complete confusion.
"What?"
Neither answered.
"Am I missing something?"
"No," Myles replied.
"Yup," Zlatan answered at the exact same time.
Blake decided he didn’t actually want to know, instead, he changed the subject.
"So."
He pointed his spoon between them.
"How did you two even meet? This peculiar friendship you have is... well, something."
Myles answered immediately.
"We aren’t friends."
At the same time, Zlatan said,
"We’ve known each other since childhood."
Blake blinked.
"...Those answers don’t match."
"They do," Zlatan replied cheerfully. "We were introduced when we were children. And then we simply happened to run into each other over the years."
"So... you went to the same elementary school?"
"Nope."
"Middle school?"
"No."
"Then...?"
"You see, we simply crossed paths often."
Blake slowly nodded.
Still, one particular thought lingered in the back of his mind.
Zlatan was almost certainly one of Myles’ subordinates.
He’d already concluded that much.
Which meant...
’Does Zlatan also possess alien DNA? I mean, everyone working under Myles probably has to, right? Otherwise... how would that whole group function?’
The thought remained unanswered.
A few minutes later, Zlatan checked the time on his phone.
"Oh my."
He stood up smoothly.
"I should be going. Thank you for the ice cream."
Before Blake could react, Zlatan reached over and gently pinched his cheek.
Blake froze.
"...Huh?"
Zlatan only laughed.
"Take care."
Still thoroughly confused, Blake lifted one hand.
"Bye."
Then Zlatan turned toward Myles.
"See you around."
He gave a small wave before disappearing down the park path.
For a few moments, Blake simply watched him leave.
"He’s weird."
"Yeah."
Blake blinked.
That had been an unusually quick agreement.
Standing up from the bench, Blake adjusted his backpack.
"I’ll head home too."
Myles nodded.
"Get home safely."
"You too."
Just as Blake turned around, he felt something lightly brush against his cheek.
He stopped.
Myles had stepped closer, holding a tissue.
Without saying anything, he wiped gently at the side of Blake’s face before pulling the tissue away.
"You had ice cream."
Blake raised an eyebrow.
"Oh. Thanks."
Myles simply threw the tissue into a nearby trash bin.
The two exchanged a brief nod before heading in opposite directions.
***
As the sun was setting, Blake finally decided to get up after reviewing the blueprints and plan yet another time.
The orange light spilling through his bedroom window reminded him that there weren’t many hours left.
Tonight.
He changed into more comfortable clothes before standing in the middle of his room.
One punch.
Another.
A front kick.
Reset.
He repeated the combinations Myles had drilled into him over the past two weeks.
Nothing flashy, just clean movements.
Keep the guard up.
Rotate the hips.
Don’t overextend.
Recover immediately.
After twenty minutes, Blake lowered his fists.
"..."
He let out a long breath.
Ba-dump.
Without another word, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
"Spoon."
The little screen immediately appeared.
"Take out the Blank Mask."
[ As you wish. ]
The familiar item materialized in front of him.
Blake picked it up.
Staring at his own reflection in the mirror, he slowly tightened his grip.
He was ready.
Well...
Kind of.