Chapter 45: Future Plans (Bonus)

Chapter 45: Chapter 45: Future Plans (Bonus)

Late at night.

Daniel lay in bed with his ears perked up, listening carefully to the sounds around the house.

One minute passed.

Then another.

After making absolutely sure everyone was asleep, he quietly slipped out of his room.

"Where is it..." he muttered.

He crept through the dark living room, searching around.

The darkness didn’t affect him in the slightest.

With his vision, nighttime might as well have been daytime.

"Found it!"

Daniel grinned and lowered his voice excitedly.

Earlier that evening, he’d noticed T’Challa casually tossing the motorcycle keys onto a table in the living room.

Sure enough, after a bit of searching, he’d found them.

"Hehehe... time to go ride a motorcycle."

Trying not to make any noise, Daniel slipped out of the house and into the yard.

The Harley sat quietly on the lawn.

Without hesitation, Daniel grabbed the entire motorcycle by hand and took off into the sky.

A few seconds later, he landed on an empty road outside Smallville.

There was no way he was starting the engine at home.

If he woke everyone up, it would just cause him unwanted problems.

Sneaking out in the middle of the night just to ride a motorcycle?

T’Challa would laugh like a madman.

Daniel had an image to maintain, okay?

He’d acted so cool and indifferent that afternoon.

At least, that’s how he remembered it.

After carefully setting the Harley down, Daniel eagerly climbed aboard.

He inserted the key and started the engine.

The motorcycle rumbled to life.

"Clutch. Shift. Release clutch."

Daniel repeated the instructions to himself.

As expected, his first attempt failed.

The engine stalled.

This time, however, Daniel wasn’t in a hurry.

There was nobody around to laugh at him.

Nobody to witness this.

He kept trying.

Again.

And again.

And again.

After more than a dozen attempts, the motorcycle finally engaged properly.

"Yes!"

Daniel nearly jumped off the seat in excitement.

"I knew I had natural driving talent!"

The moment the bike got moving, he twisted the throttle all the way.

The Harley surged forward.

A cool night breeze brushed against his face.

Daniel narrowed his eyes happily.

To avoid disturbing anyone, he didn’t even turn on the headlights.

It wasn’t like he needed them.

He could see perfectly fine.

Humming to himself, Daniel cruised down the empty road.

After a while, though, he became dissatisfied.

The motorcycle was still in first gear.

Even with the throttle pinned all the way down, it was only doing around seventy miles per hour.

For Daniel, that felt painfully slow.

So he decided to try shifting.

According to T’Challa, changing gears wasn’t much different from getting into first gear.

This time, Daniel succeeded on the first try.

Not only that he increased speed again and shifted gear multiple times, before finally skipping straight to fifth gear.

The motorcycle’s speed immediately shot past 190 miles per hour.

Now that felt better.

A huge grin spread across Daniel’s face.

He swayed the handlebars back and forth, guiding the motorcycle in a giant S-shaped path across the empty road.

It was the middle of the night.

Smallville was already remote enough as it was.

There wasn’t another vehicle in sight.

For ordinary people, riding a motorcycle at nearly 200 miles per hour while weaving across the road would be suicide.

One mistake and it would be over.

But Daniel wasn’t ordinary.

His body was absurdly durable.

His reaction speed was ridiculous.

If the motorcycle started tipping over, all he had to do was plant one of his legs on the ground.

Problem solved.

"Whoooooo!"

Daniel shouted excitedly.

The deep roar of the motorcycle engine echoed through the quiet countryside, drifting far into the night.

"Still too slow."

He shook his head.

To him, nearly 200 miles per hour felt like a snail crawling.

If it weren’t for the thrill of controlling the motorcycle, the speed itself would’ve been meaningless.

Then a thought suddenly appeared in his mind.

"I’ve decided."

"I’m majoring in mechanical engineering."

"And physics too."

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became.

Steel.

Machinery.

Engines.

That was every man’s dream.

With his super brain, learning anything was easy as long as he put his mind to it.

His current life was practically a perfect start.

No natural enemies.

No need to worry about money.

No need to struggle just to survive.

He could spend his time doing things he genuinely enjoyed.

He was free and unrestricted, able to do whatever he wanted.

"One day, I’ll build all kinds of motorcycles with my own hands."

"I’ll make one faster than an airplane."

"A supersonic motorcycle!"

The image in his mind became more and more vivid.

The idea alone made him smile.

Compared to most people, creating advanced technology would actually be easier for him than it was for a certain arrogant genius billionaire playboy philanthropist.

At least Daniel didn’t need a workshop full of expensive tools.

To him, metal was practically clay.

Steel alloys?

Titanium?

Whatever.

He could shape them with his bare hands.

Need to cut materials?

Simple.

A quick blast of heat vision.

Perfect precision.

No rough edges.

Any shape he wanted.

Any size.

As for materials, that wasn’t a problem either.

There was literally a Wakandan prince living in his house.

If he wanted Vibranium, T’Challa could probably get him some.

Space-age alloys weren’t difficult either.

There were countless satellites floating around in orbit.

Surely nobody would notice if one mysteriously lost a few pieces.

There were also meteorites.

An endless supply of meteorites.

And blueprints?

Even easier.

X-ray vision existed for a reason.

The more Daniel thought about it, the more convinced he became.

As long as he wanted to learn, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t build in the future.

The thought of personally creating all kinds of machines made him feel incredibly excited.

"If I really wanted to..."

"I could probably build a nearly perfect Optimus Prime."

The image instantly made him burst out laughing.

"Hahahaha!"

Daniel laughed so hard he almost missed a curve in the road.

For the first time since awakening his powers, he felt like he’d found a genuine goal.

Being too powerful sometimes felt boring.

Most challenges simply weren’t challenges anymore.

But this... this was interesting.

This was something he actually wanted to do.

At that moment, Daniel was already imagining a gigantic garage in the future.

Rows upon rows of motorcycles.

Sports cars.

Custom vehicles.

Every one personally built by him.

Then suddenly...

Clunk.

The engine died.

"Huh?"

Daniel frowned.

He restarted the motorcycle.

It started normally.

But after moving only a short distance...

Clunk.

It stalled again.

Daniel stopped and got off the bike.

After checking it over, he quickly discovered the problem.

The fuel tank was nearly empty.

T’Challa had bought the motorcycle yesterday and never filled it up.

After all the riding yesterday afternoon and Daniel’s midnight adventure tonight, the remaining fuel had finally run out.

"Oh well."

Daniel shrugged.

"Guess that’s enough for tonight."

Surprisingly, his interest in the Harley had already begun fading.

Now his mind was completely occupied by the motorcycles he planned to build in the future.

His own designs would definitely be cooler, faster and more powerful.

Compared to those future machines, this Harley suddenly seemed a lot less impressive.

"I should find some books tomorrow."

"When college starts, I’ll begin designing my own motorcycle."

He thought about it for a moment.

"Maybe I should make it entirely out of Vibranium."

Then he reconsidered.

"Nah."

He had only recently visited Wakanda.

Immediately asking for a pile of Vibranium felt a little shameless.

He’d wait until T’Challa went home again and tag along.

"Space-grade alloys should be fine."

"I can grab some from space."

"They’ll probably be good enough."

Daniel’s standards had already become absurdly high.

"Or maybe meteoric iron."

"That would be cool too."

While planning the construction of his future dream motorcycle, Daniel casually picked up the Harley and flew back home.

After returning, he carefully put the motorcycle back exactly where it had been.

Then he quietly sneaked back into his room.

That night, he slept exceptionally well.

...

The next morning.

T’Challa woke up planning to spend the day riding around town.

But when he tried to start the motorcycle.

Nothing happened.

"Huh?"

He frowned.

"That’s weird."

"I’m pretty sure there was still gas in it yesterday."

Standing beside the bike, he looked genuinely confused.

At that exact moment, Daniel happened to walk past.

Silently.

Without saying a word.

T’Challa slowly turned and stared at him.

His first instinct immediately told him this had something to do with Daniel.

"Why are you looking at me?" Daniel asked.

T’Challa almost replied, "Why, can’t I look at you?"

But after considering the enormous difference in combat power between them, he wisely chose not to.

Instead he pointed at the motorcycle.

"How did it run out of gas?"

His expression was full of suspicion.

"It’s a used secondhand motorcycle."

Daniel answered calmly.

"And they use a lot of fuel."

T’Challa didn’t believe a single word.

When he’d bought the bike, he’d inspected it carefully.

The previous owner had maintained it extremely well.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with it.

This was definitely Daniel’s fault.

The problem was he couldn’t prove it.

In the end, he could only give up.

A little while later, T’Challa resigned himself to pushing the Harley four or five miles to the gas station in town.

After filling the tank completely, he finally returned.

Half an hour later, he rode back up to the house wearing a pair of sunglasses.

Pulling up in front of Daniel, he grinned.

"Come on, Daniel."

"I’ll take you for a ride."

Apparently, someone had already forgotten how much he’d been insulting his Harley just a few hours earlier.

The moment Daniel heard that, his eyes lit up.

He immediately jumped onto the motorcycle.

Not only that, he snatched T’Challa’s sunglasses right off his face.

Then he shoved him toward the back seat.

"I’m driving."

"What? But you don’t even..."

Before T’Challa could finish his sentence, Daniel had already started the motorcycle and shot out onto the road.

As always, Daniel rode with the throttle completely open.

The bike accelerated instantly.

The powerful wind whipped past them.

By the time T’Challa managed to raise his voice, his words were already being carried away by the rushing air.

"When did you learn how to ride?!"

T’Challa was genuinely confused.

Yesterday afternoon, Daniel had looked like he’d never even seen a motorcycle before.

Now he was riding like he’d been doing it for years.

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