CHAPTER 002: Use the spaghetti step!

Logan fled from the vicinity of the hospital like it was on fire, not stopping until he was at least 3 blocks away. He entered an alley leaned against the wall before clutching his waist. Like air escaping a balloon, uproarious laughter left his lips soon after.

"Oh god, that guy was such a tool."

"Why do you think I let you take over. I would have blown cover immediately at his pretentiousness," a ghostly apparition said in between chuckles of his own. When inspecting it closer, one could see an uncanny resemblance between the two figures.

"Right, I'm low on energy anyway," The flesh and blood Logan said before vomiting a torrent of glowing green fluid. The ghostly Logan merged into this sick logan during this time, causing an even more wretched expression to appear on the man's face.

"Jesus. You need a better technique for this kind of thing, master..."

The green fluid coalesced and turned ethereal, molding itself into a shape similar to that of the old grand masters from kung fu movies. Yes, the only difference here was a long antennae sprouting from the ethereal martial artist's forehead.

"This master is still but a single fragment of will, what do you expect? Hurry up and kill the other contestants if you want me to teach you better," the alien grand master exclaimed while flailing his ghostly arms about impotently.

"I don't even know if there are other star children in this city... Plus I have no job, no house, and six years of nothing on my resume. Why don't we fix those little problems first, master?"

The grand master stroked his beard at this question, before eventually nodding.

"I did teach you a good cover is essential for early cultivation... Okay, this master approves!"

Logan smiled at this, before suddenly looking queasy.

"What's wrong?"

"I just remembered I have to expel those trackers..."

The grand master could only laugh in response.

"Get to it then, disciple."

Logan sat in a cross legged position, cupped his hands, and took in a deep breath. Then, with the force of a hammer driving a nail in one go, he slammed his hands into his stomach. This, obviously, caused Logan to immediately have an extreme coughing fit.

When the coughing finally reached its crescendo, he hacked out 7 small metal discs with red crystals embedded in their center.

"You human's paranoia never ceases to amaze me," the grand master said with a sigh.

"The fact we ever made it back out in the free world shows overconfidence trumps that," Logan said with a smile as he stepped out of the alley. He walked another block, casually flicking the metal discs at high speeds into obese passersby. They swiftly embedded into their skin, but otherwise did not alert the fat people. The most perceptive of them merely thought a mosquito had bit her.

"I think that will keep people off our backs for at least a month. What do you think, master?"

"Hrmmm, a tight schedule indeed. We need to get you to star eater realm by then."

"Oh, guess I better get moving so we can get the little problems out of the way then."

"Use spaghetti step."

"Are you sure?"

"I have enough energy to make sure you have no eyes on you."

"If you say so, master."

Logan walked to a corner of the sidewalk and carefully examined the area around him. He made sure nobody was directly in front or behind him for at least 100 meters, and even checked to see if there were any cars approaching from blind spots. Once those concerns were assuaged, Logan jogged in place. It looked like a perfectly normal jogging form, at least at first.

As the seconds ticked by, however, something extraordinary happened; Logan's upper body began to lean back. As it did so, it also stretched. The longer he jogged, the more he stretched. It eventually got to the point that his upper body was perpendicular to the sidewalk, and had stretched more than 3 meters in length.

Finally, one of his legs took a single step forward, and immediately his entire form snapped back to normal. Like a taught rubber band suddenly released, Logan shot forward at incredible speed.

In less than a blink, he was gone; 2 inch deep shoe imprints on the concrete being the only evidence of his presence.