Chapter 19: You Haven’t Said Thank You Yet
It’s raining.
Water was spraying out of the fire hydrant.
The atmosphere at the scene was very subtle.
“You didn’t pull the handbrake?”
The traffic police were dumbfounded.
“Uh…”
Ian was somewhat unwilling to admit his simple mistake.
“This isn’t the first time something like this has happened today?” The traffic police officer looked like he had seen a real road hazard and glared at the delinquent youth in front of him with an unusually serious expression.
And at this moment.
“How much do I have to pay…”
Ian asked with a sheepish grin.
The traffic police officer turned to look at the fire hydrant that was splashing water.
“This isn’t something we police handle, but according to the road administration’s standards, the repair cost is at least one hundred thousand US dollars.” Good heavens, no wonder they say America has its own value system.
With this compensation.
Commissioner Smith, who is everywhere, probably made a net profit of ninety-nine thousand. Ian turned back to the taxi and pulled out a toolbox from beside the driver’s seat.
“What are you doing!”
The traffic police officer’s hand went to his gun.
Extremely vigilant.
Fortunately, Ian did not possess the epic grade limited edition night skin; otherwise, they would probably be in the process of emptying the magazine by now. He was currently just slightly worried that Ian would also pull out a pistol.
“Of course, I’m fixing the fire hydrant!” Ian found a hammer and then forcefully pushed away the car that was stuck to the fire hydrant, turning around and smashing the fire hydrant with all his might.
“Handbrake!”
Seeing the taxi sliding towards Ian’s backside, the traffic police officer quickly put down his gun and dived into the taxi, stopping the car in time before it could kiss Ian.
“You can get a driver’s license for this?”
The traffic police officer wiped the sweat from his forehead. He squeezed out of the damaged car door and found that Ian had disappeared, leaving only a fire hydrant that was no longer spraying water.
Although the fire hydrant looked terrible, it had at least been “repaired,” and a rather beat-up car key was placed on top of it.
It turned out it had been in the ashtray the whole time.
“Damn it! Where is he?”
The traffic police officer looked around.
He only saw a figure disappearing around a distant corner, moving faster than Bolt.
“Stan Lee, is that it!”
The traffic police officer gritted his teeth in anger. He felt that this second getaway was definitely a conspiracy by that wicked young man, and he immediately picked up his walkie-talkie to “report” Ian.
Of course.
Because the ID showed the fake name Ian wanted him to see, this “wanted” obviously wouldn’t have a good outcome, but that didn’t stop the traffic police officer from desperately calling for backup from his colleagues.
Above the sky.
Within the clouds.
“Slap~”
The old father, feeling exhausted, couldn’t help but slap his forehead hard. Having witnessed the entire process, he had to admit that Ian was very different from what he and Lois had thought before.
How to put it.
He has morals and a conscience… but it feels like he doesn’t have much of either. To guide this special child well, Clark felt immense pressure.
“What a troublesome little guy!” Clark sighed heavily. He couldn’t help but recall the night he found Ian, perhaps he should have realized then that Ian’s future would not be ordinary.
Now, in hindsight.
It’s not too late.
Clark, now in his middle age, has three children, but compared to his eldest and second sons, he felt that Ian, his adopted son, was the one most similar to him.
After all.
That day.
That night.
And that meteor shower—it was like a familiar cycle.
…
Because he missed the last bus.
Ian only had the option of taking a taxi, which gave him some psychological trauma, but before that, his top priority was to quickly fill his stomach, which was growling because of the 【Self-Healing Tide】.
The stomach is an emotional organ.
After eating, Ian would be in the mood to go home and complain. He pushed open the door of the convenience store on the street, and the store immediately rang with a welcome, but the word “Welcome” felt insincere to him.
It was far less down-to-earth than “Welcome, buddy.” Entering the convenience store, Ian headed straight for the “fast carb” section, which consisted of cheap but high-calorie processed foods.
“This, this, and this.” Through his own efforts, Ian possessed more funds than his two older brothers combined, so he didn’t have to worry about being short on cash when selecting items. The cashier was a young man wearing glasses, his clear eyes having that diligent student vibe.
“That will be $29.45.”
The young man scanned the barcodes of all the food items one by one.
“Mhm.”
Ian stuffed things into his mouth as he took out three ten-dollar bills and counted out forty-five cents in coins. He clearly saw the cashier suddenly freeze.
“You can just give me one dollar back.”
Ian reminded him.
“Oh, okay.”
The cashier suddenly understood, but not entirely. He picked up a calculator and calculated fiercely before giving Ian a one-dollar bill as change.
“Thanks.”
Ian turned to leave, munching on a hot dog.
At this moment.
“Welcome~”
The emotionless voice rang out again from the entrance of the convenience store, but the person entering was full of emotion. He was wearing stockings on his head and rushed towards the counter with a small caliber pistol.
“Robbery!!”
What a cliché plot.
Those who didn’t know would think this was Gotham next door.
“No funny business!”
The robber pointed his pistol at the stunned cashier, then warily looked at Ian, who was standing nearby, and instinctively moved the gun towards Ian.
Seeing the muzzle pointed at him, Ian immediately raised his hands.
“Uh, ‘Hoe hoe day noon, each has his own hardship,’ I understand you.” Ian wasn’t trying to get friendly or engage in social graces; he just saw the robber’s dark wrist.
The youth knew.
The robber was just fulfilling the meaning bestowed upon him by his dark skin.
“Who the f*ck? Who has it harder?” The robber was clearly confused, not quite understanding Ian’s American poetry. As if his intelligence had been insulted, he became enraged.
“Get lost, you brat!”
It was clear.
This was an ambitious robber who only had big business in mind and looked down on the small change carried by a middle schooler, so he gestured with his pistol, threatening Ian to leave quickly.
“Okay, I’m going.”
Ian quickly ran out of the convenience store.
And just as the robber was about to focus on the convenience store clerk.
“Welcome~”
Ian circled back.
Of course, he wasn’t trying to be a superhero and save the store by defeating the robber; that was the insurance company’s job. The detail-oriented youth had just realized a very important issue after walking onto the street.
“Uh, I respected the American street tradition, but didn’t someone forget to say thank you?” Soul pollution, perhaps, had some effect on Ian after all.
His way of thinking was clearly more devious than usual.
[PS: Thanks to the three big shots for their tips, please collect, follow, vote monthly, and support. I deeply thank all supreme emperors! I have manuscripts ready, and if the performance is decent, I’ll release 20,000 words daily after going live!]
