The previous savings, plus this thirty thousand hush money.
Over sixty thousand.
Could last two years in Queens, but wouldn’t last six months in Manhattan.
Ian leaned against the wall next to the ATM, pulling out his phone.
There were several unread messages on the screen from the convenience store manager, asking why he hadn’t shown up for work.
He swiped them away.
Then he opened the news app.
The headline was a Vought press release about the “historic cooperation memorandum between Supe and the Department of Defense.” The accompanying photo showed Homelander and Queen Maeve posing in front of the Pentagon.
He scrolled down.
The local news section had a video.
The footage showed a young white man standing at Vought’s reception desk, looking pale, holding a stack of documents.
The video title: “Man allegedly accuses Vought-affiliated Supe ‘A-Train’ of negligent homicide, demands public apology.”
Ian’s finger hovered over the screen.
Hughie.
The plot has begun.
A-Train had run over Hughie’s girlfriend Robin just a few days ago.
Probably right now, Hughie is negotiating with Vought, demanding an apology.
Soon enough, Billy Butcher will find him and pull him into The Boys.
Ian closed the news app.
He still had time to plan, to strategize for the strongest survival skill currently within his reach—Translucent’s special Hyper-Carbon Material Skin, that diamond-level physical defense on the outside of the body.
But before that, he still needed to boost his own combat power to ensure he could intervene in Butcher’s kidnapping of Translucent.
He needed a place, somewhere he could get close to major Supes without drawing attention.
On his phone screen, he opened the search engine and typed a line.
Godolkin University.
The only superpower university in the United States.
Fully funded by Vought.
Full of young, immature Supes.
Their abilities are unstable, their personalities flashy, they love to show off.
Most of them will never make it into The Seven in their lifetime, only able to become local heroes in second-tier cities after graduation, or serve as living advertisements for Vought.
But for Ian, it was a gold mine.
He planned to find an internet cafe first to check things out, partly because it was cheap, and partly because it would be more convenient for him to look up information on Godolkin University.
Ian sat in the corner, the screen’s blue light casting on his face.
The air smelled of stale pizza and feet.
He wasn’t wearing headphones, his fingers sliding over the greasy keyboard.
Godolkin University.
The homepage photo was meticulously edited, a group of young people in Vought uniforms standing on a lawn, with a steel archway behind them.
The slogan read: Shaping Tomorrow’s Heroes.
He clicked into the admissions page.
The first sentence he saw was: “We are proud to announce that Godolkin University tuition has been reduced to a more affordable $77,000 per year, cash only.
The fall semester offers scholarships to a select few students…”
“Damn it, no wonder even Obama took 21 years to pay off his student loans.
Who can handle this?” Ian leaned back.
“Sixty-two thousand in savings isn’t even enough for tuition, let alone accommodation and living expenses.
Looks like I’m about to embark on this one-way road too.”
He continued scrolling down.
There was another admission requirement: superpower qualification.
This condition made Ian pause.
LV1 Super Physique.
Shockwave’s legacy.
“Is this enough to qualify?”
He kept scrolling.
At the bottom of the page, there was a very prominent link: Student Loans & Scholarships.
He clicked it.
Godolkin Special Opportunity Loan.
Specifically for young applicants facing financial hardship but possessing Supe potential.
The interest rate is terrifyingly high, but no credit history is required, and no co-signer is needed.
Just a high school transcript, an initial Supe ability screening report, and a commitment letter agreeing to prioritize job placement at Vought after graduation.
Ian fished his phone out of his backpack.
He had saved an electronic copy of his high school transcript from when he worked at the convenience store.
GPA 3.92.
Graduated with a full scholarship.
He filled out the form.
Name, email address, address—he randomly put down the nearest motel.
Uploaded the high school transcript.
In the ability type field, he paused for ten seconds before typing: Physical Enhancement.
Submit.
The page redirected.
Thank you for your application.
You will receive a response within twenty-four to forty-eight hours.
Ian closed the browser and stood up.
He raised his hand to hail a taxi.
“The nearest motel.”
The motel room was on the second floor, with a brown stain on the carpet.
The air conditioner was a window unit, humming loudly, blowing air that smelled of mildew.
Forty-five dollars a night, with a twenty-dollar deposit.
Ian habitually locked the door and drew the curtains.
He walked into the bathroom.
The reflection in the mirror looked like an amateur fighter who had just finished an underground brawl.
His looks could only be described as the Queens District equivalent of Keanu Reeves—though not quite up to the readers’ standards, he was still strikingly handsome.
The bandage on his right shoulder was seeping a pale yellow fluid.
His Level 1 physique was accelerating the healing process, rebuilding muscle and mending fractures.
He took off his clothes, showered, and went straight to bed, sinking into a deep sleep with the exhaustion that follows a life-or-death struggle.
The email arrived at 9:17 the next morning.
The sender was the Godolkin Admissions Office.
The subject read: Ability Assessment Appointment.
Ian sat on the edge of the motel bed, swiping his thumb across the screen.
“Dear Applicant, your academic background is impressive.
Given your declared Physical Enhancement ability, the Admissions Office requires you to come to the main campus as soon as possible for an on-site ability assessment.
Please bring valid identification.
Address: Godolkin University Main Building, Assessment Center Room B12.”
Ian checked the time.
Eleven o’clock.
From here to Godolkin in upstate New York, a taxi would take an hour and a half.
He didn’t hesitate.
Checked out, hailed a cab.
“Godolkin University.
Please hurry, I’ll add a tip.”
The driver was a Black guy, old-school rap playing on the car radio.
He sized up Ian through the rearview mirror.
“Going there?
Are you a Supe?”
“Sort of.”
Ian watched the dilapidated buildings of Queens District fly past the window, silently bidding farewell to the place he had lived for two years.
Godolkin’s main gate was bigger than it looked on the website.
Two pitch-black steel arches stood thirty feet high, welded with Vought’s blue eagle emblem.
On either side of the arches were overly manicured lawns where a few students were active.
A red-haired girl floated about three meters high, sitting cross-legged with a book in her hands, as if on an invisible sofa.
In the distance, two boys chased each other in the sky, trailing blue energy streaks behind them.
Ian paid and got out.
The driver took the cash and whistled at him.
“Good luck, generous sir.”
Ian walked through the archway.
The lobby of the admissions building looked like a gymnasium converted into an atrium.
Hanging from the high ceiling were giant posters of outstanding graduates from previous years.
The hall was packed with people, all teenagers around eighteen or nineteen, dressed in a variety of casual clothes.
On the left, a Latino kid was rolling a fireball between his fingers, the flames spinning in his palm.
His girlfriend beside him was applying lipstick, completely unfazed.
To the right, a chubby girl stood in a corner, the tiles beneath her feet frosting over in a white circle spreading outward from her center.
In the distance, a tall, lanky guy was loudly boasting about how he could lift a school bus back in high school.
Someone nearby rolled their eyes and retorted, “Then why are you at Godolkin?
You should’ve just gone straight to The Seven.”
This was his gold mine, his hunting ground.