The Solitary Wolf

Sizzle, sizzle.

Mark was home in the kitchen, making breakfast.

It appeared that he was preparing a meal that had chicken as the principal component. Having stirred the contents to his satisfaction, he decided to cover the saucepan lid, allowing the tastes to blend together as it cooked gently over the heat.

Ding!

When he heard the soft chime noise, Mark turned and headed to his left side, where he saw a medium-sized rice cooker waiting quietly for him to arrive.

Click.

Shhh.

He confidently pressed a button, and in turn, the cooker's lid opened automatically with a gentle motion, letting out a dense cloud of steam into the air.

"Sniff, sniff."

'It's done.'

The white rice looked like it was cooked just right. He took a plate and spoon and began serving rice onto the plate. When he had the required amount, he closed the lid.

He turned back toward the stove, switched it off, and opened the saucepan.

Hssh~

A spicy aroma smell struck his nostrils.

"Sniff."

"Smells fine."

He took another spoon very cautiously and picked up the delicious chicken curry with it, laying it on his plate. After ensuring that he had taken enough, he closed the lid of the pot tightly once again and then left the kitchen to proceed towards the dining table.

Mark grabbed one of the six chairs that stood in orderly fashion around the table and settled himself into it. As he began eating, he used his right hand — this very tendency of his was strongly supported by the design of things in his bathroom, including not just a bidet but a jet spray for added hygiene instead of just toilet paper.

In a matter of three minutes since he had begun eating, his plate was completely clean of any food, not even a single grain of rice remained on it.

Upon getting back to the kitchen, he did the right thing by first washing his hands thoroughly to ensure cleanliness. Afterwards, he proceeded to place the saucepan containing the chicken curry in what appeared to be an oven.

A minute later, he extracted it with his bare hands, all thanks to the innovative cooling function of the oven that successfully cooled dishes to room temperature without freezing them in any manner.

He did the same to the rice, gently scooping it into another container and did the same thing with it. Once he was certain that the two dishes were completely ready and prepared to be served, he went ahead to keep them in the refrigerator.

Following that step, he proceeded to diligently gather his dirty dishes and load them into the dishwasher for cleaning. Once the wash cycle had been completely run through, he sat down to return everything to its rightful place, ensuring that each thing was returned to its proper location.

Mark then went into the bathroom, where he took a minute to freshen up, and then put on an entirely new outfit.

He put on a light gray button-down shirt, which had sleeves rolled comfortably up to his elbows, giving it a laid-back look, and paired it over a simple white T-shirt. To complete the entire ensemble, he chose to wear black pants, which provided a stark and pointed contrast to the light color of his shirt.

He fastened a slim black smartwatch, ensuring it was properly positioned on his wrist, while he deftly hung a double-strap black backpack over his shoulders, settling it comfortably against his back, a little red keychain dangled rakishly from the bag's zipper, a touch of color. The look presented a sleek and neat city style that was both fashionable and modern.

(Click here for image.)

He paused at the shoe rack on his way out, grabbed a pair of black high-top sneakers, and slipped them on over no-show black socks.

Done gearing up, Mark confidently came out of his house and proceeded to the elevator. When he reached the basement garage, he found, waiting for him in his reserved parking space, a vision to behold—a sight that would make men salivate.

It was a motorcycle akin to the Indian Scout Bobber of another world, a factory-custom cruiser known for its aggressive style and raw power.

The bike was a matte black beast with minimal chrome — stealthy, muscular, and unapologetically bold. It had a teardrop-shaped fuel tank that contributed to its low-slung profile. The leather seat was minimally padded, stitched in retro style. Dual blacked-out pipes ran parallel to the ground. Chunky, wide-profile tires gave it a grounded, intimidating presence. Drag-style handlebars sat low, amplifying the aggressive vibe. Visible rear shocks and chopped fenders enhanced the vintage aesthetic.

Mark wore his helmet, got on the bike, and inserted the key.

Ch-CHK! VRRMM, VRRMM

With a deafening roar, the engine sprang to life.

Robis, the security guard, wasn't startled. He was used to this sound. Wordlessly, he opened the gate.

Mark noticed and rolled the throttle.

VRRMM!!

The motorcycle took off with a force like a fierce storm, and in no time at all, he was riding confidently along the open highway.

He leaned forward a bit, his body automatically adjusting in response to his movement, holding the handlebars securely and confidently as the cool wind rushed past his face, generating a feeling of freedom and exhilaration.

Vrrrmm…

His grey shirt billowed behind him, resembling a cape in the wind. His eyes, focused, glared straight ahead, blazing intently from beneath hair that was wind-blown and disheveled by blasts of wind.

The matte-black motorcycle rumbled powerfully beneath him, like a ferocious beast that was eagerly responding to his every command and desire. The wide tires, designed for optimal grip, clung tightly to the asphalt surface with remarkable precision, kicking up clouds of dust as he skillfully weaved effortlessly in and out between the bright yellow lane markings.

His sneakers were positioned securely on the foot pegs, while the chrome of the exhaust shone brilliantly in the warm sunlight.

Mark's face was serene and composed — a solitary wolf speeding towards fate, surrounded by a blur of trees and an open horizon.

In due course of time, he eventually came and stopped right in front of a large and foreboding black gate. There were two middle-aged watchmen standing guard outside, who, as soon as they saw him, immediately knew who he was.

"Hi Mark, how have you been?" one of them queried.

I'm doing just fine, Jay. How are you?" Mark replied.

"I'm fine too."

"You are the first student to come here again," said the second guard.

"Not like I come at the same time as you, Ken."

"We come early because it's our job. You, on the other hand, are a student. You should take it easy."

"I'm fine with this schedule."

"If that is what works for you, then I've no problems."

"Alright, now swipe your ID and then come on in."

"Alright." Mark took out his student ID and scanned it.

There was a flash of green light on the panel indicating the success.

Crrk.

The gate opened.

"See you later."

"Take care."

Vrrmm

With that, Mark rode onto the campus grounds of his school.