[LSB] Chapter 152: The Guest

“Please! Look here, Mr. Winters!”

“We just want to ask you a few questions! We’ll only take a minute of your time!”

“Where have you been this whole time?! Is it true that you were depressed?!”

“Mr. Winters! What can you say about your long-time girlfriend backing out of her major record deal?! Did she do that to take care of you?!”

The reporters were relentless with their questions, most of them pushing each other just to get in front of Julian. Their drones of all shapes and sizes completely filled the airspace around them, and the other people who were curious about what was happening couldn’t see anything due to the curtain of drones blocking their view.

But they didn’t need to see what was going on to actually know what was going on—they could hear it. The reporters’ voices were so loud that they could be heard even by the cars flying past them.

Hannah, who had only meant to escort Julian to the entrance, nearly jumped back out the door when she saw him swarmed.

 “W-what’s going on here?! Who let them get this close?! Where are the guards?!” she barked, planting herself in front of Julian so that he would be able to pass through. Julian, however, didn’t move from his spot at all.

“Aaliyah gave them permission,” he said, confusing Hannah as she slowly glanced back at her.

“What… do you mean?”

“She publicly announced that I’m the newest S-rank Exterminator.”

“Huh? Why would she do that?!” Hannah stretched her arms to the side, making sure that none of the reporters attempted to step forward. “We should go back inside, Mr. Winters!”

“No. It’s fine.”

Julian placed his hand on Hannah’s shoulder, humming as he stepped forward and stood beside her. His sheer height made the front row instinctively lean back—but when he showed no aggression, they surged forward again, bombarding him with more questions.

And their questions were endless. Even though Julian was only standing there and not even opening his mouth, they still continued to fire whatever questions they had.

This went on for almost an entire minute before they all shut their mouths when Julian tilted his head at one particular question.

“Do you have anything to say about the Otherworld scandal?” Was the question one reporter asked. And when she realized that his ear turned toward her, she shoved past her peers and pressed on.

“Have you reached out to the two players who did that to you, Mr. Winters?! We clearly saw them take advantage of your moment of weakness, so I was wondering if you were going to take any legal action against them for doing that to you?”

Everyone waited for Julian to say something. Although the question wouldn’t be credited to any of them, they were still curious as to what he was about to say.

But even after the excitement on their faces died down, he still didn’t answer.

“Mr… Winters, sir?” The reporter squinted, looking at her peers to see if maybe she just didn’t hear him answer.

“Wh—” But finally, Julian spoke, cutting the reporter off before she could go for another follow-up.

“I haven’t really thought about what to do with them yet,” Julian said, tapping his cane against the ground as he turned fully toward the reporter. “Do you know who they are?”

‘He… doesn’t even know who they are?’ were the thoughts of all the reporters there. And what exactly did he mean by ‘haven’t really thought of what to do about them yet’?

Was he… going to do something to them?

Well, now they were glad they weren’t the ones who asked that question. And so, the only thing the other reporters did was look at the one who did ask the question.

“U-uh.” The reporter’s breath stuttered. They were trained exactly for scenarios like this—granted, Julian wasn’t exactly being threatening, but there were massive implications in his question.

And he wasn’t exactly human, too—and they weren’t trained for that.

“They…” The reporter hesitated, making sure the next words that were coming out of her mouth were the correct ones. Unfortunately for her, as a reporter from a large network, she was also trained to instigate things and lead them in a direction that would create the story itself.

“They’re Hank Lang and Mark Pym,” she said at last, a faint smile curling her lips. “Hank’s the son of a wealthy realtor, and Mark’s the heir to Pym Construction.”

The other reporters slowly started backing away from them when they heard that. As for the woman, she only took a gulp while trying to assess Julian’s expression… but there was nothing.

And when he only hummed in response, the reporter took in another gulp before adding fuel to the fire.

“I believe Hank’s mother is hosting her birthday at their new hotel today. If… you’re not going to take legal action against them, then do you at least want an apology for what they did?”

“I don’t know what I want right now,” Julian answered before turning to leave. 

She hurried after him but barely managed three steps before he stopped, tilting his ear toward her.

 “And Hank’s mother isn’t celebrating her birthday today,” he said. “His step-mother is.”

“Huh?” The reporter blinked several times, and a million questions suddenly raced through her mind. Before she could ask any of them, however, Julian was already gone.

“What in—wasn’t he just here?!”

***

A few minutes later, Mark was pacing around a hotel room, the plush carpet already caved in where he’d been stomping for so long. Hank was also there, but he was just lounging on a sofa and shaking his head at him. But after a few more laps, he finally snapped.

“Dude, can you stop?!” Hank barked, jabbing a finger at him. “You’ve been stomping around for hours.”

“Because I’m fucking anxious!” Mark shot back, fists clenched so tight the tendons in his hands creaked. “Thatcher’s no longer taking our fucking calls, man!”

“Why are you even trying to call him?! You got a hotel in your name, I got a hotel in mine. What’s up? What are you trying to do?”

“Didn’t you see the news?!” Mark stabbed a finger toward the wall, where a holographic feed blinked to life, showing the live brief interview of Julian being asked about the two of them.

“Julian’s fucking awake, man. And he’s a fucking S-rank, rank S, whatever the fuck they’re classified as. The thing is, he’s a fucking monster! And he’s asking about us! He even knows about it being your step-mom’s birthday today!”

“Can you relax?” Hank approached Mark and placed a hand on his shoulder. “And what monster? We fucking killed him on Artemia, and he couldn’t do anything about it.”

“That was a game!” Mark smacked his hand away, jabbing a finger into Hank’s chest. “And we were lucky. There was something off about him even back then.”

“There!” Hank also pressed a finger on his chest, “You said it yourself. It’s a fucking game. Do you really think the dude will come after us in real life? This isn’t a movie. He can’t just come up to us and do whatever the fuck he wants. Are you serious? You came all the way here just to tell me that?”

“I’m here to tell you we made the wrong call!” Mark shouted. “If I’d known Thatcher was gonna ghost us after, I never would’ve agreed to this deal. My father’s disowning me, Hank! He’s giving the company to my cousin—and I think the board’s pressuring him to step down!”

“That’s your father, okay?” Hank sighed, shaking his head before lounging back on his sofa and sinking into it. “My parents don’t care about that corporate crap. What they care about is that we’ve got a connection with motherfucking Thatcher.”

“But that old fuck’s not answering any of our calls! What aren’t you getting here?!” Mark rushed at Hank, strangling the air between them in frustration. “We messed up, man. We messed up!”

“Relax. If Julian was going to do something, he would’ve done it ages ago. The dude obviously doesn’t care. He—”

The chime of the doorbell rang through the hotel room the moment Hank finished saying that. And Hank, who just had a lot of things to say, completely shut his mouth as he and Mark looked at each other for a few seconds, the two of them holding their breaths.

Mark slowly stepped away, and Hank also stood up as he followed behind him as they made their way to the door, but as soon as the surface of the door flickered and became transparent to them, they quickly let out huge sighs of relief when it wasn’t Julian.

“You fucking stupid!” Hank, who realized he was almost clinging to Mark, pushed Mark like it was his fault, “That’s one of my dad’s assistants!”

Hank fixed his suit before marching toward the door, shaking his head as he glanced back at Mark.

“What is it, Doakes?” He said while opening the door, “Are they serving the wine now?”

“...No,” Doakes said, shaking his head before moving to the side and gesturing Hank to step out of the room. “But your father is asking you to join them at the party.”

“Well, I guess it’s that time,” Hank said, shrugging as he once again glanced at Mark. “Dude, come on. Either join the fucking party or get out of my room. Because when I’m coming back, I’m gonna be coming back with someone. You know what you need? A fucking drink. Come on, I’ll let them pop a bottle early, or even something harder.”

Mark stared at Hank for a moment before shaking his head and following him out of the room.

“That’s right.” Hank chuckled, slinging an arm over his shoulder as they headed for the elevator. Mark even managed a faint smile, shaking his head as they stepped inside the box.

“Why’s dad even calling me this early? He knows I’m usually an end-of-the-party kind of guy,” Hanked asked Doakes as the elevator door closed.

“I believe you have a visitor,” Doakes said, his eyes lighting up as he looked up the guest list on his internal interface.

“Huh? Who?”

“I am checking now. Ah, here we go. It’s… Oh.”

“Huh?”

“It’s Julian Winters.”

***

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Something's different about Julian.