American comics: I am full of martial virtues and I love to be kind to others.

"This afternoon?" The little rascal's eyes widened. "You mean—"

“Victor plans to act when you come to the library,” Lynn said. “We have intelligence that it’s today. That’s why I’m here.”

Little Rascal looked around and suddenly realized that danger might be lurking in this peaceful town that afternoon.

"Then why didn't you bring the police? Why didn't you lock down the whole town?"

“Because we weren’t sure if this intelligence was a trap,” Lynn said honestly, “and a large-scale operation would alert Victor and cause him to change his plans. We chose to operate discreetly, protecting you while trying to capture him.”

"So I'm the bait?" The little rascal's tone turned angry.

“No,” Lynn said, “you are someone we are protecting. If you want to leave now, I can escort you to safety and give up the chance to capture Victor. It’s your choice.”

The little rascal stared at him for a long time, as if trying to determine whether what he said was true or false.

“Those mutants you mentioned who were being controlled,” she finally said, “how are they now?”

“They’re recovering,” Lynn said. “Professor X is helping them break free of Victor’s mind control. It’s a painful process, but they will recover.”

"So, it's possible to rescue someone after they've been taken into custody?"

“Yes, but it’s difficult,” Lynn said. “That’s why we need to stop Victor from controlling more people. Every victim has to go through immense suffering to recover.”

The little rascal lowered his head, seemingly deep in thought.

“My aunt,” she suddenly said, “would she be in danger if Victor came looking for me?”

“We’ve already sent people to protect her discreetly,” Lynn said. “She should be at home now, safe and sound.”

The little rascal nodded, and then made a decision that surprised Lynn.

“Alright,” she said, “I believe you. But I won’t hide. If that Victor really comes, I want to see you catch him with my own eyes.”

"This is too dangerous—"

“My whole life is dangerous,” the little rascal interrupted him. “I’m afraid every day that I’ll accidentally bump into someone, afraid that my abilities will go out of control. What’s one more danger?”

As she spoke, she pushed open the library door and went inside.

Lynn hesitated for a moment, then followed.

The library was much cooler inside than outside, with the old air conditioner humming and barely maintaining a tolerable temperature. The air was filled with the smell of old books and wood, which gave one a strange sense of comfort.

This is a small library with only two floors. The first floor has a checkout counter and a children's reading area, while the second floor has an adult book section and several small reading rooms. Apart from a drowsy elderly librarian, there is almost no one else around.

The little rascal headed straight for the stairs to the second floor, clearly very familiar with the place.

"Do you come here every week?" Lynn asked, following behind her.

“There are fewer people here,” the little rascal said without turning around, “and there’s air conditioning. My aunt’s air conditioner is broken, and it’s unbearably hot in the summer.”

Is your aunt good to you?

“She tried her best,” the little rascal’s voice softened. “She’s my mother’s sister. My mother didn’t want to see me after my abilities awakened. My aunt is the only relative who was willing to take me in. She knows my abilities, but she’s never afraid of me. It’s just that I’m afraid to get close to her.”

They went up to the second floor, past rows of bookshelves, and came to a reading room in the corner. There was a large window that looked out over the small garden behind the library, and a few old sofas and a coffee table with a few expired magazines scattered on them.

The little rascal sat down on the sofa by the window and took out a thick book from his backpack—Camus's *The Stranger*.

"You like existentialist literature?" Lynn asked, somewhat surprised.

“I like stories about people who don’t belong anywhere,” the little rascal said, flipping through the book but not actually reading it. “It feels so relatable.”

Lynn sat down opposite her, maintaining a safe distance.

When did your abilities awaken?

“Fourteen,” the little rascal said, “my first kiss. I kissed a boy, and he was in a coma for three weeks. The doctor said he almost died. I haven’t touched anyone since.”

She spoke calmly, as if recounting someone else's story. But Lynn could see that her hand holding the book was trembling slightly.

“That must be very difficult,” Lynn said.

“You have no idea how hard it is,” the little rascal looked up, a hint of bitterness in his eyes. “Do you know how much humans depend on touch? Shaking hands, hugging, patting someone on the shoulder—these are the most ordinary things for most people. But for me, every touch can be fatal. I haven’t hugged anyone for three years. Three years.”

Lynn fell silent. He wanted to say something comforting, but felt that any words would be inadequate.

“Professor X said he could help me control this ability,” Little Rascal continued, “but I don’t believe him. I’ve tried everything—meditation, concentration, even hypnosis. Nothing works. My ability is automatic; I can’t turn it off.”

“Perhaps Professor X has a method you haven’t tried,” Lynn said.

“Maybe,” Little Rascal shrugged, “but I’ve given up hope. I’ve learned to accept the fact that I’m a monster.”

"You are not a monster."

“You don’t know me,” said the little rascal. “You don’t know what I dream about. Sometimes I dream that I drain everyone’s life force and become an omnipotent being. In the dream, it feels...good. It scares me. It scares me because deep down I really want that.”

Lynn remembered Victor's interest in her. What if Victor used these dark thoughts within her to manipulate her?
“Everyone has dark thoughts,” Lynn said. “The key is choosing not to act on them. That’s what defines who you are.”

The little rascal looked at him as if he were reassessing him.

“You don’t talk like an FBI agent,” she said.

“I’ve been through something recently,” Lynn said, “which has changed the way I see the world.”

"What's up?"

"He was nearly killed by three mutants, and then spent six weeks at a mutant school recovering and training."

The little rascal's eyes widened. "You were at Xavier's School?"

"Yes."

"Then...have you seen other mutants like me? Those with dangerous abilities?"

“I’ve seen them,” Lynn said. “One student can emit energy waves that, if out of control, can destroy an entire building. Another can manipulate fire, but at first he often accidentally ignited things around him. And there’s another one—”

He paused, unsure whether he should speak.

"What else?" the little rascal pressed.

“There’s another one named Logan,” Lynn said. “He has rapid healing abilities and adamantine claws. His bones have been modified, infused with a material called adamantium. He’s lived for over a hundred years, enduring countless wars and suffering. But he didn’t become a monster. He chose to use his abilities to protect people.”

"That sounds inspiring," the mischievous boy said, his tone slightly sarcastic but not as sharp as before, "but his ability won't harm the people he comes into contact with. It's different."

“Perhaps,” Lynn said, “but many students at Xavier’s School of the Arts have dangerous abilities before they learn to control them. Most of them eventually learn to live peacefully with their abilities. I can’t guarantee you will, but it’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

The little rascal didn't answer. She turned her head and looked out the window at the garden.

Sunlight streamed onto the old wooden floor, dust motes floating in the light. Everything seemed peaceful and languid. But Lynn's nerves were on edge. His gaze frequently swept towards the windows and doorway, alert for anything amiss.

Time passed second by second. Four o'clock, four fifteen, four thirty.

“Perhaps the intelligence was wrong,” Little Rascal said, “or perhaps they gave up.”

Lynn didn't answer. His intuition told him that things weren't that simple.

Just then, Logan's voice came through his earphones.

"Lynn, something's up. Two black vans are approaching from the north of town."

Lynn's heart started racing.

"Can you see how many people are inside?"

“No, the windows are tinted,” Logan said. “But that’s not normal. There wouldn’t be a car like this in a small town.”

“Roger,” Lynn said to Little Rascal, “We might be in trouble. Come with me.”

The little rascal immediately stood up, showing that although she said she didn't care, she was actually on guard the whole time.

"Go through the back door?"

“No, the back door might be under surveillance,” Lynn said. “Let’s go downstairs; there are more exit options there.”

They hurried down the stairs. The elderly librarian watched them in surprise but said nothing.

Lynn heard a voice again in his earphones; this time it was Sarah.

"Lynn, the second car is parked in the alley behind the library. Someone got out. Damn, it's Jason!"

Jason. The former soldier with superhuman strength, the one who almost killed Lynn last time.

"Where's Victor?"

“I didn’t see them, they’re probably in the car,” Sarah said. “Wait, three people got out of the first car too. I don’t recognize them, but they all look like mutants.”

Lynn's mind raced. Victor had brought in new men? This meant he had quickly found replacements after losing Marcus and Elena. This man's influence was greater than they had imagined.

"Logan, can you stop Jason?"

“I can give it a try,” Logan said, a hint of excitement in his voice. “This is finally starting to look interesting.”

"Sarah, you're in charge of the three people at the front door. Avoid direct confrontation; just stall for time."

"clear."

Lynn led the little rascal to the side door on the first floor—an employee-only exit leading to a narrow alley.

“We’ll go this way,” he said. “My car is parked two blocks away—”

Before he could finish speaking, the side door was suddenly kicked open.

A thin man stood in the doorway, his skin so pale it was almost transparent, and his eyes an unnatural silver.

“Found you,” the man said, his voice like the scraping of metal. “The professor will be very pleased.”

Lynn instinctively raised his gun, but the man was much faster than he expected. A flash of silver light, and Lynn's pistol was knocked away by a powerful force, hitting the wall with a crisp sound.

Magnetic control? No, not entirely—

The man waved his hand again, and a row of bookshelves collapsed with a crash, hurtling towards Lynn and Little Rascal.

Lynn lunged at the little rascal, shoving her aside, and then rolled sideways, barely avoiding the collapsing bookshelf. Splinters of wood and books flew everywhere, hitting his bulletproof vest with dull thuds.

“You have the ability to manipulate metal,” Lynn said, getting up from the ground, “but you’re not Magneto.”

“I’m just an apprentice,” the silver-eyed man said, “but I’m enough to deal with the two of you.”

He waved his hand again, and the metal brackets and screws on the floor flew into the air, shooting towards Lynn like bullets.

Lynn rolled over to avoid it, but several screws still managed to cut his arms and thighs. The pain made him grimace, but he forced himself to stay focused.

"You little rascal! Run!"

The little rascal didn't run away. She stood there, her eyes burning with anger.

“I’m fed up with being hunted,” she said, and then made a crazy decision—she took off her gloves and charged at the silver-eyed man.

"No!" Lynn shouted, but it was too late.

The silver-eyed man hadn't expected her to attack first. He raised his hands, intending to strike her with metal, but the little rascal was unexpectedly fast. She grabbed the man's wrist—exposed skin making direct contact.

The silver-eyed man's face contorted instantly, as if something vital had been ripped from his body. His eyes widened, and his mouth opened as if to scream, but no sound came out.

The little rascal's eyes changed too—from brown to silver, just like the man's.

Three seconds later, the silver-eyed man collapsed to the ground, unconscious. The little rascal released his wrist and staggered a few steps.

“I can feel it,” she gasped. “His power. I can control metal.”

"Are you alright?" Lynn rushed over, but remembered not to touch her, stopping an arm's length away.

“I’m fine,” Little Rascal said, but her face was pale. “It’s just… a lot of memories. His memories. They’re all jumbled up.”

“This is the side effect of your ability,” Lynn said. “You absorb not only abilities, but also memories.”

“I know,” Little Rascal bit her lip, “I hate this feeling. But now, now I have a weapon.”

She raised her hand, and a nearby metal trash can trembled and floated up.

"How long can this ability be maintained?"

"Uncertain. It could be anywhere from a few minutes to several hours, depending on the duration of contact."

Lynn nodded. It was an unexpected bonus, but they didn't have time to celebrate.

Logan's voice came through his headphones, mixed with the sounds of fighting.

"Lynn! Jason is stronger than last time! It seems he's received some kind of enhancement!"

Then Sarah's voice rang out: "The three guys at the front gate are breaking through! I can't hold them off!"

“We need to retreat,” Lynn said to Little Rascal. “Are there any other exits?”

“The roof,” said the little rascal, “there’s an escape ladder behind the library that leads to the roof. From there you can jump to the grocery store next door.” (End of Chapter)