Chapter 144 – Each on Their Own Path

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Erik closed the door behind him, a look of helpless frustration on his face. 

He had hesitated again. 

Even when the man pulled the trigger, Erik knew he wasn't dealing with a good person—someone who had likely already stained his hands with blood. And yet, he still couldn't bring himself to finish the job. 

Taking that first step was always the hardest. 

But he knew that now, on this path he had chosen, it was only a matter of time before he crossed that line. 

Even so, he had set a rule for himself—never kill the innocent. 

A few minutes later, he gestured with his hand, summoning the helmet from the bed. After settling his bill, he picked up the helmet and walked out. 

However, as soon as he reached the motel entrance, his brows furrowed. 

The man he had sent running earlier was standing there, clutching his chest with a twisted look of fury. Beside him stood an older man with a similar face, but with a more imposing presence. 

Behind them, more than twenty men stood in formation, their expressions filled with hostility. 

"Brother, it's him! That monster!" 

The younger man snarled, his eyes brimming with murderous intent. 

His older brother didn't bother with words. His gaze turned cold, and without hesitation, he barked a single command— 

"Kill him." 

No one could lay a hand on his little brother and walk away. Even if the man was a monster, he would make sure Erik was riddled with bullets. 

"You can stop a bullet? Heh, let's see how many you can handle." 

The gang leader sneered, giving the order. 

But he clearly had no idea what true power was. 

Ratatatatatat! 

Gunfire erupted, bullets raining down on Erik in a relentless barrage. 

His expression remained indifferent, though a flicker of irritation crossed his eyes. 

Why do people insist on throwing their lives away? 

The bullets—one by one—screeched to a halt, suspended midair in front of him. More and more joined them, forming a dense wall of floating ammunition. 

The gangsters, who had been grinning moments before, felt their confidence crack. Terror crept into their eyes. 

By the time they realized that an impenetrable wall of bullets had formed before Erik, the gunfire had already ceased—though none of them had consciously stopped pulling the trigger. 

Swallowing hard, the gang members didn't hesitate. They turned and ran for their lives. 

Erik clenched his fists as he watched them flee, his gaze cold. 

Then, as if sensing the silence behind him, the younger brother—now a few steps away—paused. 

Turning back, he hesitated for only a moment before firing a single, desperate shot. 

Erik's pupils shrank. 

The hesitation in his heart vanished. 

His clenched fist slowly relaxed. With a casual wave of his hand— 

The bullets that had been hovering before him shot forward. 

Blood splattered. Screams filled the air. 

Erik watched it all with an icy gaze, allowing the scene to sink in. 

He was getting used to it. 

When the last cry faded, he placed the helmet on his head. Under the horrified stares of those hidden in the shadows of the street, he rose into the sky and vanished. 

---

 "Hank, I need your help." 

Charles set down his coffee, his eyes meeting those of the bespectacled man sitting across from him. 

Hank McCoy. 

Not that Hank, but Charles' old college friend, Hank McCoy. 

Like Charles, he was a mutant—one he had met at school, and one of the few people he could truly talk to. 

Hank remained silent for a moment before asking, "You're really going through with this?" 

"I am," Charles replied with a small smile. "The location is already set." 

A flicker of curiosity crossed Hank's face. "That fast?" 

"Want to see it?" Charles invited. "You can check if anything needs adjusting." 

Hank pushed up his glasses. "Alright." 

"So that means… you're in?" 

"I'll… take a look first. Then I'll decide." 

Charles smirked, casually lifting a hand to pay the bill. 

He knew Hank well enough to understand that if he was willing to come, it meant he had already agreed. 

Hank McCoy was a research genius. When Charles discovered he was a mutant, the two bonded quickly over their shared nature and became close friends. 

However, Hank only knew about his part of the plan. He was unaware of Erik's involvement. 

After all, Erik and Charles had attended different universities. His professors and classmates had no idea he had an older brother, and thanks to his careful efforts, no one knew anything about his family situation either.

The two left the café, driving Charles' car toward the yet-unnamed estate. 

Upon arrival, Charles led Hank McCoy on a tour around the property. Watching Hank's expression shift to one of astonishment, Charles grinned. "Well? What do you think?" 

"It's impressive," Hank admitted, adjusting his glasses. "Looks like you're serious about this." 

"Of course! When have I ever lied to you?" 

He playfully patted Hank on the back. 

Hank smirked. "Can't say if you've lied to me, but I do know you've lied to plenty of women." 

Charles, utterly unfazed, replied smoothly, "That's called mutual consent." 

Shaking his head with a chuckle, Hank turned to gaze at the buildings, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. "A school for mutants… If that's what this place will be, then count me in." 

"Ha!" Charles laughed, throwing an arm around Hank's shoulder. "I knew you'd say yes." 

Hank sighed, though the corners of his lips lifted slightly. "Why do I feel like I've just been sold?" 

Charles burst into laughter. "Come on, let's grab a drink to celebrate your recruitment." 

"Wait a second," Hank suddenly asked, realizing something important. "How many people do we have so far?" 

"Just you and me." 

"…Is it too late to back out?" 

"What do you think?" 

---

Under the scorching sun, a lone figure moved steadily through the endless desert, seemingly unbothered by the unbearable heat. 

In truth, he wasn't bothered at all—he even found it rather pleasant. 

He had been wandering through this desert for quite some time, though without any real destination. He simply walked wherever his feet took him. 

For years, he had roamed the world, seen countless places, experienced more than most, and captured it all with the camera he always carried—each picture a snapshot of a life well-traveled. 

His eyes flickered as he crested a sand dune, scanning the horizon for any sign of an oasis. 

But instead, his gaze landed on something else—someone being swallowed by quicksand. 

Without hesitation, he vanished from where he stood. 

Just as the sinking man reached the brink of despair, a powerful hand yanked him free, tossing him onto solid ground. 

Clark moved so fast that the man hadn't even registered what had happened. One moment, he was sinking to his doom, the next—he was safe. 

Stunned for a moment, the man fell to his knees and began praying. 

Clark, already a good distance away, merely smiled and continued walking. 

During his travels, he had long since lost count of how many people he had saved. 

"I wonder how Dad and the others are doing…?" 

"Then again, with Dad around, those two should be just fine." 

Clark murmured to himself, thinking of his family. A warm smile spread across his face. 

It had been a long time since he had checked in. 

Maybe once this journey was over, he'd make a call—just to let them know he was still alive. 

(End of Chapter)