Chapter 53| Proud Pervert Son

Chapter 53: Chapter 53| Proud Pervert Son

’Thanks for your take system,’ Zane thought.

He turned and headed back upstairs.

Gerald wheezed when he pushed through the room door.

Dex looked up from his laptop.

"Found it?" Dex asked.

"Ryan had it," Zane said.

Dex raised an eyebrow. Said nothing else. Turned back to his screen.

Zane sat on his bed. Notebook on his desk.

He picked it up and opened it to the hero name page.

Four words. Still there. Not the finished name. Just four words that had appeared one after another over the course of a day and had ended up meaning something he hadn’t planned for when he wrote the first one.

’Not done yet,’ he thought. ’But getting there.’

He closed the notebook.

Lay back and looked at the ceiling.

Ryan had come. Toyed with him. Read the page. Called him a rat.

’Fucking asshole,’ he thought again.

Gerald wheezed.

Dex laughed at something on his laptop.

Zane switched his position on his bed and now stared at the big breasted girls wallpaper on dex’s side of the room.

’Forgot I shared a room with this sick pervert he muttered not that I’m one to talk’. He muttered.

His notebook was on his desk. Four words on the hero name page. Not finished. Just sitting there meaning something he hadn’t planned for.

Gerald wheezed.

Dex clicked something on his laptop.

Zane looked at the ceiling for another thirty seconds.

Then... "Hey Dex."

"What," Dex said without looking up.

"What’s your hero name," Zane said. "I just realised I’ve never asked."

Dex paused his scrolling.

Turned around in his chair slowly with the expression of someone who hadn’t expected that question tonight and was deciding how to receive it.

"Ironclap," Dex said.

Zane looked at him.

"Ironclap," Zane repeated.

"I told you my sigil is Impact Breaker, and use it through the hands," Dex said. "Iron for the hardened output. Clap for the contact activation." He shrugged. "My parents helped me come up with it."

Something in his expression shifted when he said that. Not dramatic. Just a change in register.

"Your parents are heroes?" Zane said.

"No," Dex said. "They awakened weak Sigils. Both of them. Nothing strong enough to pursue the hero track professionally." He leaned back in his chair. "They felt like they weren’t good enough. Spent a long time feeling like that." He looked at his laptop screen. "So I decided I would be. For them. And for myself."

He said it the way he said most things. Without performance, without wanting anything back from it. Just the fact of it sitting in the room.

"I may not look it," Dex said. "But I’m not only a pervert. I’m also a proud son."

Zane looked at him.

"Proud pervert son," Zane said.

"Shush," Dex said. "Don’t spoil the moment."

Zane almost smiled.

Dex turned back to his screen. Then stopped.

"Speaking of," he said. "I’ll be updating the wall soon. Some of the prints are getting old." He gestured at the organised collection across his side of the room. "When my next pending allowance comes through from the last quest I completed."

Zane sat up slightly.

"You get allowances," he said.

"If you perform well on assignments," Dex said. "NSA field work comes with compensation tiers. Do a good job, clear the objective, submit the report. You get paid." He clicked something on his laptop. "I may not look it but I’m genuinely good at the work."

Zane stared at him.

’He gets paid for kicking bad guys,’ Zane thought. ’And uses the money to update his hentai collection.’

’I don’t even know how to process that,’ Zane thought.

He lay back down.

"I’ve been trying to figure out my hero name," Zane said at the ceiling. "My brain keeps clouding every time I get close."

Dex was quiet for a moment.

"Take your time," he said. "The right one comes naturally. You don’t find it. It finds you when you stop forcing it."

Zane looked at the ceiling.

’Four words,’ he thought. ’Already on the page. Maybe Dex is right. Maybe it’s already there and I just haven’t accepted it yet.’

He was still thinking about that when the knock came.

Knock!! Knock!!

Three clean taps on the door.

"Come in," Dex said.

The door opened.

Pris resurfaced from the entrance .

She was in casual wear. Slim fitted top and short shorts, hair down for once, different from the pulled-back efficiency of her usual appearance. She was holding a small box. Square. White.

Zane looked at her.

’She may be flat,’ he thought. ’But somehow the casual wear is doing more work than expected.’

She looked at Dex.

Then at Zane.

"Oh good," she said. "Both of you."

She crossed the room and stopped at the foot of Zane’s bed.

"I wasn’t there during the rank trials," she said. "Was on field assignment. I missed the whole thing." She held out the box. "You did good. You’re family now so..."

Zane sat up and took the box.

Opened it.

It contained a small cake. Neat. The specific kind that came from somewhere that took its presentation seriously.

He looked at it.

Then at Pris.

She reached over and patted his head once. Clean. Efficient. The same energy she brought to everything. No ceremony, just the action and then done.

’She may be flat,’ Zane thought. ’But she might be one of the kindest people in this building.’

"Thanks," he said.

"Don’t make it weird," she said.

She straightened up. Checked her communicator.

"9:30," she said. "I should get back." She looked at Dex. "Torre ate your noodles by the way."

"Of course he did," Dex said without emotion.

Pris turned toward the door. Stopped.

"The trials footage," she said without turning around. "I watched it after we got back." A pause. "Whatever you’re running. It’s good. Keep building it."

She walked out. Closed the door behind her.

The room was quiet.

Gerald wheezed.

Zane looked at the cake in his hands.

’Family now,’ he thought.

He hadn’t had that word applied to anything since arriving in this body. It sat somewhere specific.

He closed the box carefully.

Set it on his desk next to the notebook.

Four words on one page. A cake on the desk. A squad that showed up without being asked.

Dex had already gone back to his laptop. The wall of prints catching the desk lamp light the way it always did. Gerald wheezing on schedule.

Room 714.

Zane lay back and looked at the ceiling.

’Not bad,’ he thought.

’Not bad at all.’