Upon arriving home, Oliver decided that the best thing for now was to stay protected and at home.

During the night he did research on the internet about people he had recently arrested, claiming to be under mind control or even illusions.

But after a good few hours of searching, nothing showed up and made him stare at the screen of his notebook thoughtfully, there was no information that seemed concrete other than research on disorders or even drugs that caused these effects.

In the end, the night had been unproductive and he found no clues about what he wanted.

At 11pm, he stared at the clock on his wall and thought.

'He probably found out about me on television, but as there were no attacks like that in the city, somehow he found out who I am...' Oliver continued to look at his watch, but he knew it wouldn't be productive, he could just close it. the notebook and put it away, while he got ready in his bed and lay down to sleep. ‘I don’t know if he is near or far, everything I know about his ability is a mere idea and not all reports make it to air.’

Oliver frowned as he stared at his roof.

‘Maybe I’m missing something.’

His eyes closed as he frowned, still uncomfortable and thoughtful, but after a while, he fell asleep.

Waking up the next day, he got ready and went to college.

When he entered, he again found himself caught up in thought and as he looked at the floor, his mind wandered.

‘I better be more cautious from now on, even in alleys, if someone sees me…’

His thoughts were interrupted when he collided with someone and then the sound of sheets of paper falling next to him was heard, making Oliver look in surprise and then listen.

“Jeez, sorry.”

Looking to the side he saw a boy with short brown hair who was wearing dark glasses, he bent down and started to pick up the leaves that had fallen near Oliver's feet.

Seeing that, Oliver crouched down and began to collect the papers from the boy in front of him.

While he was receiving it, the boy was talking.

“Damn…thanks, man. I don’t know why so much paper-”

His sentence was interrupted when he noticed Oliver's hands and spoke, pulling his hand.

“Damn…what was all that?”

Oliver was taken by surprise and closed his other hand, but soon noticed that his hand that had been grabbed was hurt.

His palm and fingers were slightly cut along with faint blood marks, making the bespectacled boy frown worriedly.

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

Oliver quickly removed his hand and closed it, taking the papers and hitting them on the floor so he could straighten them.

Soon he spread out the papers he had collected to deliver and said.

“Not much... the papers are there, I'm going with it.”

After that, he quickly got up, keeping a slightly more serious look and now heading towards his class with hurried steps.

The boy with dark glasses continued to look from afar with his eyebrows raised, still surprised by the answer and so Oliver arrived in the classroom.

He sat a little further away than usual and raised his palms so he could see.

The hand that held the bow string had wounds and cuts on the fingers while the other was much more injured, full of wounds on the palm as it was the hand that held the bow.

Seeing that made him look thoughtful and with a frown, spending the rest of the class a little more cautious and with his palms facing down.

As soon as the class came to an end, he would soon head towards the exit and again he would head to work.

Along the way he closed his hands while rambling.

‘There are signs that I use the bow, I should have noticed that.’

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Even irritated, he continued on his way and arrived at the television station.

All the movement that day had disappeared, even though they still reported the green vigilante from time to time, the recordings had stopped and all they could find were blurry photos that showed him running through the streets.

All that remained were statements from the bandits who had met with the vigilante, but they were nothing more than blurred reports and images.

Arriving inside the building, Oliver hurried and went to a girl with blond hair tied up who was in front of a computer with three screens, she was responsible for receiving complaints from that sector and analyzed whether she should send a reporter to follow up on the report. case.

Through the screen's reflection, she could see Oliver approaching and turned her face slightly to see him.

As soon as she arrived, Oliver would wave and talk.

“Good evening, Holly, do you have time? Can I take a look at some recent material?”

When he heard it, a girl of just over 25 years old turned around with a doubtful expression and said.

“Sure, do you feel like you found something new? About that vigilant maybe?”

“Err… I don’t think so.”

He stood next to Holly as he looked at all those screens.

In most of them there were reports that were yet to be analyzed and others that were already being sent, Oliver tried to find something related to what he wanted with his eyes, but was soon questioned.

“Okay, what do you want to know?”

“It's about criminals, I want to know if there were any who claimed to be taking orders or being controlled. If possible, I want to find something like that, even if it’s in the trash.”

Holly looked curious and started typing quickly as she said.

“That’s strange, I think you find a lot of these in asylums, Oliver. Not here."

Oliver remained silent without knowing exactly what to answer and Holly just shrugged, continuing to quickly search throughout the system.

Turning his eyes to the screen, little by little Oliver saw the documents being analyzed and some gathered in a folder called 'Oliver.doc'.

A little time passed and at the end some articles appeared on the screen.

Holly directed everyone to the printer, which began to print the reports on sheets.

Soon the girl leaned back on the chair and stretched, saying:

“Well, I found some reports and complaints, but none of them were aired. Not everyone can have what you want, but at least there is something similar, maybe it will help you.”

Seeing the printer, Oliver approached it, still waiting for all the sheets to be printed.

In the end, there were just over 20 pages with some reports.

Oliver picked up the sheets and Holly looked surprised saying.

“Your hand looks terrible.”

She approached her chair and Oliver also looked with surprise, but then lowered his eyebrows, already waiting for what was to come.

Holly turned Oliver's hand over and saw that both were bruised while there was still dried blood on his right hand.

"How did this happen? Did you fall from somewhere?”

She quickly opened her drawer and pulled out some finger bandages, taking alcohol and squirting it on a cloth as she brought Oliver's hand closer so she could clean it.

Oliver looked awkwardly and said.

“I ended up falling on the way, it was a really bad fall and I was already here. So I just washed it and came to work.”

Little by little, Holly rubbed the cloth over Oliver's hand, making him close his eyes, feeling the pain and discomfort with the alcohol touching his wounds.

She listened and lowered her eyelids slightly saying:

“These wounds are not from today.”

Holly sighed and Oliver looked slightly surprised, but again pulled his hand away.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t even hurt.”

But again her hand was grabbed and she went back to wiping the cloth.

Seeing that it would be useless to continue with that, he just sat down and let her continue with the treatment.

Over time, she would finish cleaning and put band-aids on Oliver's fingers and bandage his palms on the side of the cut.

After finishing, she placed her hands on her knees and let Oliver see the result.

It seemed to have been done correctly, even the nuisance was gone and it was subtle enough not to draw attention.

As he squeezed lightly to see if he felt any pain, Oliver said.

"Thanks."

Even after the treatment she continued to look at Oliver, looking serious, then speaking.

“I know why you came here. But if it’s hurting you enough to do it, I think it would be best to stop.”

Oliver stopped pressing her hand and looked at Holly thoughtfully.

From the beginning he knew her because they didn't have that big of an age difference and from his constant attempts to find her parents, she had found out easily.

She continued to look at him as if asking, but soon Oliver stood up and said.

“It’s just some silly injuries. Anyway, thank you.”

Soon he took his hands to the printer and picked up the sheets, turning to leave.

Little by little he moved away, but before going, he turned slightly and said.

“Don’t worry, I don’t give up that easy.”

He walked away and disappeared from her vision after turning a few hallways.

The day passed quickly as Oliver tried to find something in those sheets, even taking them home while he read and reread each material several times trying to find something that caught her attention.

Arriving home, he was sitting on his bed with all the papers still in hand, but in the end, he threw the sheets on the floor, letting them scatter.

After seeing all those materials several times, he knew that he hadn't missed anything and he sighed, raising his head and closing his eyes while looking at the ceiling.

“What a pain... there’s nothing...”

In the end, they were all anonymous reports that didn't seem like what he had witnessed, along with some reports that looked more like urban legends than really reliable material.

He hadn't found anything like the attack the next day, causing him to look up again, giving a long sigh and saying.

‘Alright, I’ll find some way.’