Canaan Club - 19. Chapter 19

The intensity of the beatdown with Zoel seemed to have simmered considerably as the four first-years sat at a round table in Dalhia Diner and stuffed themselves with their most exquisite meals. Just a couple of taps and swipes on their WardNav and they had all kinds of strange-looking food on plates before them brought by a waiter or waitress, but the oddity of it all didn’t matter when the first bite made them chow down for more.

“I had no idea wolves were strong like that, man!” Joe wondered aloud. “I thought they had to transform into their big, scary beast forms first.”

He turned to Andre for confirmation, who just shrugged while he ate.

“Really, it’s just bonus power.”

“Makes me wonder how strong the rest of the Argo guys are.”

Rafe had the same daunting thought circling inside his head as well. Instead of speculating on such stress, he asked, “The hell was in that bag that jackass needed to beat the shit out of us so bad for? Makes me wish I lasered the thing instead.”

“It smelled like mushrooms,” Daeran muttered, slowly and solemnly sipping on some red-pink smoothie.

“So, it must be drugs, huh?”

Joe’s roommate suddenly blanched, misinterpreting the blond’s conclusion as an accusation. “I-I mean… I wouldn’t know a-anything about that. I-”

Rafe just shook his head and spoke further. “If that’s the case, then that means my suspicions were right. We haven’t seen the last of that guy. Whatever they have going on, he won’t wait ‘til it’s over to pounce on us. He’ll just draw us into the drama.”

“We don’t know for sure if it’s drugs, though,” Andre said absentmindedly.

The superhuman watched his best friend’s deep concentration on the cooked lamb chops, barely taking a breath before munching on the next bite. “Remember this, Dre. If it smells funny, it probably isn’t.”

“Who was that girl that gave it to us?” Joe asked.

“Not sure, but the bastard did imply that there were more of her running around. What she just did, popping in and out like that. That’s teleportation, no question. It’s not specific to just one superhuman category, though.”

“So, she must be an esper.”

Hearing that, Andre, along with Daeran, blinked in confusion. “An esper? What’s that?”

“A master of one of the big three: telekinesis, telepathy, or teleportation,” Rafe explained. “Most have only one, but a dangerous esper has two or three.”

“Whoever she is, she’s working against the Argo pack,” added Joe.

“Yeah, but it’s not just the Argo pack alone. We have to worry about the whole Abellon Club, too.”

Andre’s face twisted into something akin to doubt. “Would Cain dabble in stuff like that? He seemed like such a nice guy when I met him.”

Rafe groaned inwardly. His best friend was so innocent it was irritating sometimes. Scratch that – most of the time.

“You met him for like five minutes,” he scolded. “Don’t trust him so easily. The nicest face is usually a mask. Well, if your name isn’t Andre.”

That cheeky little smile appeared on the omé’s face as he gazed up at the blond. “As far as you know.”

“Is it a little late in the discussion to offer help?”

They all spun to see an upperclassman, tall, lean in build, and with long platinum blond hair, approach their table. The black ops-esque gear hinted at where he came from.

“Hunter, right?” Rafe looked him over.

“Correct,” the older male nodded and smiled kindly as he stood a comfortable distance from the table. “Talon Ingis. The second-in-command of the Valley Knight’s Seek & Destroyers. My captain extends his courtesies in your impending dilemma against the Argo menace.”

“Cool name,” Joe nodded his approval.

Rafe hesitated, though. It never hurt to be cautious of a seemingly friendly face. Admittedly, he was the same way with Andre once, too, when they met way back. Here, he had much more of a reason to be, especially since he’s noticed the fact that the guy had yet to make any kind of eye contact with Andre or Daeran.

“What’s the offer you’re speaking of? You say you guys want to help us deal with Zoel and the others?”

“Essentially, yes. Rafe Gold and Joe Sloane. Both formidable superhumans despite your age. If you joined us, we could train you and fashion you into our strongest, finest warriors yet.”

“You allow superhumans into your group?”

Talon perked up excitedly at that. “Of course we do. Our homo superior counterparts are the pinnacle of human power and vigor. Your family, Gold, is one of the original pioneering bloodlines of humanity’s enhancement. It would be an honor to have you on our team.”

His eyes turned to Joe.

“And you, Sloane. Your family has worked in the hired gun department for centuries alongside the Coat of Wolframite. Despite not being an official leading household of the Legacies, they have partnered with your unit an incalculable amount of times whenever their work and safety were threatened by unworldly forces. Truly, both of you would make exceptional additions to the Valley Knights.”

Joe kept quiet as he looked at Rafe. So did Andre and Daeran, expectant expressions on their faces while they awaited his response.

“You’re tempting, alright,” Rafe finally responded. “I’ll give you that.”

Talon grinned, a sly gleam in his eyes. “Salesmanship is a part of the job.”

“But I’m gonna have to pass for now. I want to get strong on my own so I can beat that Argo bastard on my own. If I do that, then it’ll make those guys think twice about messing with us since we won’t hide behind anybody else.”

The hunter didn’t appear the slightest bit put off by the rejection, his face brightening all the more. “Ah, such fortitude. Admirable. Very admirable. Just as my captain expected from a member of the Coat.”

“Thanks.”

“But if you do change your minds, the offer still holds. We’d love to have you in any way we can.”

“We’ll think it about, dude,” Joe replied when Talon began to back away. “Thanks, though.”

The hunter nodded farewell to the two superhumans, not one glance at either Andre or Daeran as he exited the diner. Rafe had assumed his entourage was somewhere within the place, but it was looking more like the guy was sent to recruit them.

“I think we-”

Rafe cut omé off before he could finish the sentiment, pointing a finger in his face. “Don’t you dare. That subtlety couldn’t have been any more obvious.”

And the more he thought about it, the angrier he got. People like Talon hunted down and murdered Andre’s kind as if it was a sport. He wasn’t going to serve his omé friend up to them on a silver platter.

“Maybe you should have joined,” Daeran murmured miserably. “I-I got us into this mess by disappearing on you guys. I should have-”

“No way,” the blond interrupted once more. “You saw how they snubbed you and Andre. Hunters hate magi. That much I know. If I joined them, it meant leaving my boy here.”

Joe hummed in agreement, his own eyes narrowed in righteous anger. “Same, bro. I don’t stand with speciesism.”

“We’ll just have to do things the old-fashioned way. It’s kind of like prison,” Rafe let a dangerous smirk grow. “Get our strength up and take out the biggest asshole in the building.”

-POI-

Galactic Economy.

Rafe knew he would hate it the second he read the name. Fitting that it was taught by a rock golem named Brium. It was as boring as watching stones on the ground.

“Now, we will go over several unearthly tax policies in our quadrant of the galaxy,” the living mass of boulders stomped around the room as he went on.

“I swear, they-” Rafe whispered over to Andre, but realized that this time, the omé had fallen asleep, His head was perched between his crossed arms on the desk, snoring lightly/

The blond superhuman chuckled smugly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Several lectures on goods and trading services later, the finale of the school day had arrived.

“Last class of the day. Foreign Tactics and Strategy,” Joe read off his WardNav, then turned to Rafe with an excited smile. “I think this is the gym class, bro. Cross your fingers?”

“I think you’re right. Hopefully, we get to knock some heads around.”

Their devices led them to an enormous set of double doors just some ways away from the entrance of the main monolith, metal and menacing. Each first-year stood ever so still until the entrance suddenly swung open. And the kids flinched back as the doors bounced off the walls.

In the doorway stood a young woman in workout gear. She was slender, developed tan, sinewy muscles over a tall stature. Her hair, a light silver not too different from Talon’s platinum blond, was styled in a pixie cut, and her eyes were a sparkling shade of blue. However, the most intimidating part of her was the intense scowl stretched across her face.

Rafe couldn’t help but feel like he’s seen her before.

“Alright, you little shits!” her gruff, raspy voice echoed throughout the entire area. “Get in here, line up, and shut up! Ten seconds!”

Nobody moved. Then…

“Eight!” she called out in irritation.

Everybody sprinted past her in a hurry, not wanting to be the last man through and face her indignation.

The gymnasium was just as vast and overwhelming as the day Rafe and Andre visited, a wide space with what looked like a boxing ring at the end of the room. Rows of bleachers sat on the right and left, and a long balcony each above them.

The scared group of first-years filed up into a single, straight line, shoulder touching shoulder as they kept their sights on the woman massaging her forehead with a finger.

“Only ten seconds into the damn class and I already want to smoke the lot of you,” she gritted out. “I’m sure by now you guys have heard of the Combat sports, so I’ll skip the history lesson and get to the point. The name of this class might be a little too wordy for my taste, but basically, you’ll be learning how to fight. Offensive and defensive maneuvers that could come in handy during battle.

“My name is Gia Hallsworth, but you will only refer to me as Mister Hallsworth. I know most of you didn’t sign up to throw fists, but I don’t give a shit. I know for a fact that this academy is more than you expected, so it’ll do you some good to follow my every instruction, and maybe you’ll be barely clinging onto life by the end of the year.”

Rafe couldn’t help looking down at Andre to smirk at him. The little pacifist was gonna have to learn to-

“Flannel blondie!”

Said Hermes superhuman blinked owlishly at Hallsworth.

Flannel blondie? Was that the best she could come up with?

“Yeah, you!” she sneered. “Since you find something about what I said amusing, take a step forward!”

Rafe did just then, and the moment he lifted his right foot, there was a nearly inaudible thump, followed by a whistling noise that increased in volume. The blond’s body moved on its own, his hand lifted to catch something thin and wooden in between his index and middle finger. When his brain caught up, he slowly turned to observe an arrow.

The rest of the class gasped in shock, horror, and awe.

The only reaction Hallsworth gave was a lifted brow. “Hm. Not enough to impress me, but I guess there might be a smidgen of hope that not all of you will end up in the morgue we have underground.”

Jaws began to hit the floor at that.

The instructor just grinned maliciously. “You’re free to check if you don’t believe me, but there is no way any of you are getting out of this. From now on, you’re mine until you’re not. Now, let’s get started! Back in line!”

Rafe took a step back, trying to hold back a small smirk of his own. A wooden arrow. If she was trying to murk him on the first day, then she would have failed anyway. Scaring him didn’t work either. It was going to take a lot more than wood to pierce through superhuman skin.

“Ah, man,” Andre gazed down at the floor, looking a little glum.

Rafe felt a little bad. He didn’t want to force his friend into fighting, but a majority of that sympathy was washed out by the relief at the prospect of Andre finally gaining a skill or two to protect himself if he couldn’t.

He brushed the young wolf’s shoulder and winked. “I got you.”

Overall, though, the electrifying thrill of battle surged in his veins.