Chapter 156: Charles's Troubles

Upon returning to his dorm at Stony Brook, Ou Xiaolu intended to inform his two roommates that he was moving out and to pack up his belongings. Although he hadn't stayed there for many days, he still had a few items he had used and needed to take with him.

As soon as he stepped into the dormitory, Ou Xiaolu caught sight of Charles looking utterly shattered. If Charles weren't a Black man, he would definitely have sported a pair of massive, dark eye bags.

Upon seeing Ou Xiaolu, Charles sprang up like a man who had just found his savior. "Xihu, help me, please."

"What's wrong?" Ou Xiaolu asked with genuine concern. After all, Charles could be considered his very first acquaintance in New Township, so it was only natural to care to some extent.

"I think I'm in trouble. I don't know why, but lately, I keep being hunted down by people with weird lipstick smeared on their faces. I'm fine with whatever happens to me, but my mother still isn't well. Xihu, can you please help me look after my mother?"

Lipstick? Ou Xiaolu was reminded of the man who had created a diversion for him that day—the one who had smeared lipstick on him at the very last moment. Could it be that these people hadn't been after him at all, but were actually targeting Charles?

With that thought, Ou Xiaolu made up his mind. "I have an apartment nearby. Send your mother there. It's basically half a haunted house guarded by a Ghost King, so practically no one can get near the place."

"A Ghost King? A haunted house? Like vampires?"

"That's too complicated to explain to you. Just think of it as a powerful spirit, the kind that can manifest physically."

"Alright, I'll head straight to the hospital and send my mother over right away."

When it came to his own family, Charles had no time to waste on idle chatter.

"Wait!" Ou Xiaolu stopped him. "Hold on a second. I'll have my car take you there, but before that, I'm very interested in the people you mentioned who are hunting you down."

"Right, Xihu, don't you have a big organization? Just wipe those guys out! I haven't closed my eyes in ages. They're terrifying—they don't fear death at all, and they just stand there laughing. It's so creepy."

"Then I need to know first how they managed to find you."

Hearing Ou Xiaolu ask this, Charles made a classic Black guy perplexed face.

"I mean, what have you been up to lately? Have you offended anyone?"

"No way. I've been keeping my mother company. Oh, wait, I did join the Holy Blood Council. Could it be because of that? I heard the Holy Blood Council has pretty much been wiped out, with just a few junior councilors holding down the fort."

"No," Ou Xiaolu said with certainty. "The Holy Blood Council business wasn't done by these people."

"Then I really haven't done anything else." Charles scratched his colorful hair, looking as if he were trying to cultivate mushrooms, yet still coming up completely blank.

Just as Ou Xiaolu was about to lose his patience, Charles suddenly blurted out, "I painted a picture recently. I never imagined I had such talent for oil painting, so I decided to hold a private art exhibition. I drew some comic illustrations for the flyers. Could those have ended up on someone else's turf?"

"What comic illustrations?"

Hearing this, Charles hurriedly searched his desktop and, after a brief rummer, fished out a few comic pages and handed them to them Ou Xiaolu.

Ou Xiaolu glanced over them, his gaze narrowing. "And what about your oil painting?"

Naturally, Charles hadn't carried the oil painting around with him. He thought for a moment, then finally pulled out his phone and swiped through a few photos.

Ou Xiaolu took a quick look at the pictures and understood what was going on. It seemed Charles's painting had inadvertently captured some hidden truths.

A mysterious faction that wanted no one to know their secrets—that explained why they would come out to tie up loose ends and silence witnesses.

Only, Ou Xiaolu found it somewhat puzzling how Charles had managed to get mixed up with such a mysterious power.

"What were you thinking when you painted that? Which place were you basing it on?"

"Nothing, I came up with all of it myself, honestly!" Charles cried out. "I really came up with it on my own, I didn't copy anyone. Look at the superheroes I designed, they're entirely my own creations."

Seeing Charles like this, Ou Xiaolu knew that given Charles's personality, if he had genuinely known of any place that could make him a superhero, he wouldn't have waited until now.

After Charles finished chattering away, Ou Xiaolu adopted a slightly more serious tone. "If I'm guessing correctly, your ideas conflicted with something a certain faction has been doing for years. Most importantly, the things you painted look a lot like what those people are searching for. They assumed you were trying to steal it too, which is why they're hunting you."

"But I don't have anything!" Hearing the cause and effect laid out, Charles couldn't help but wail in protest.

At that moment, Ou Xiaolu said, "Don't you want to be a superhero? This might just be your chance. I have a map here that can point out the location of a treasure. It can be used three times a year. Usually, when I use it to point the way, it gives clues to various hidden treasures. If you're willing to give it a try, you might just find that place."

Charles stared at the blank, paper-like map for a long time, and finally said with a trembling voice, "You mean I can beat them to it and become a superhero?"

"Yes, as long as your intuition is genuine, you have a chance."

Charles held the blank paper, closed his eyes, and concentrated deeply on his thoughts. Finally, he pointed a finger at the center of the sheet. "The thing is right here."

Upon looking closer, Ou Xiaolu saw an oil-painted map slowly emerging on the white paper. The map's style was heavily saturated with Gothic elements, and numerous intricate patterns bloomed around its borders.

To Ou Xiaolu's eyes, these patterns formed a riddle-like message: "Alien technology hidden beneath a smiling face; three choices, and you need only pick one. Choose right, and you are the savior; choose wrong, and you are the arch-demon."

Reciting this message while studying the map, Ou Xiaolu finally said to Charles, "It looks like those people are looking for alien technology, and this should be your opportunity as well—even though I don't quite know what the latter part means.

"One thing is certain, though: the alien technology contains many things, enough that a simple choice among three could yield either a superhero or a supervillain.

"So, are you willing to give it a try?"

"Of course, of course! Xihu, I'm definitely going to be the one who becomes the savior! I'll eradicate evil and uphold justice every single day, I'll reward the good and punish the wicked every single day, every single—"

"Alright, cut it out with the 'every single day.' If you can't use idioms properly, don't use them. Now, go take your mother to my apartment. I'll find a few people to gather some information."

"Got it! I'm going right now! Wait, Xihu, it's really dangerous for me to go out right now. I might get knocked off by someone at any second."

Ou Xiaolu thought about it and realized he had a point. He said firmly, "Here, this is Senior Iron. His power vastly exceeds mine beyond measure. Let him accompany you."

Tie Zhongxiao glanced at the Black man, a hint of a smile touching his lips, and casually spat out two words: "Weak trash."