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There Goes Kniton Spawman

Loter Spawman sat on one end of the small rectangular table. His father, Kniton, sat across. Beside him was Sarah, the mother. Today's lunch was salad since Loter's early return at noon was unexpected.

Kniton was a bit younger than R.O.S. with a thick, hoary mustache in the shape of walrus' teeth. His entire jaw was covered in his blackish-gray beard. He was wearing his usual fancy suit and blazer.

Although factually younger than Kniton, Sarah was appearance-wise older due to her obesity. Her face was covered with wrinkles formed by fat.

"So, what about the—"

Before Kniton could say "dead gangster" out loud, Sarah stamped on his right foot under the dinner table.

"What about?" Loter innocently asked as he picked up another piece of lettuce from the salad bowl.

"HueCam Academy! HueCam Academy," Kniton adjusted his posture, glanced at Sarah's unfriendly stare, and said with an uncomfortable snort.

"What about it?" Loter questioned while chewing the lettuce.

Rolling her eyes, Sarah impatiently said, "So you will be living there?"

"Mr. Ros said if I get into the mountain campus, I will be coming back only once a year." Loter took a moment to swallow the food and carried on, "He said if they think I'm not strong enough, I will be sent to the city campus, then I won't be living in dorms."

"Okay, okay," Kniton responded blankly upon hearing the news. He did not know what to think. Was he supposed to be glad, sad, or else? After all, it was his son who was going to be a superhero, and Kniton seemed to be the only one concerned about the risk of death.

"I really don't know what to hope right now. Like, I don't want to leave you two alone here. But I do want to go to the mountain campus."

Standing up, Sarah commented, "I wish you could go to the mountain campus. You've always wanted to be a superhero, don't you?" She had a mild annoyance on her fat face that she always had before Loter. It offended Kniton every single time.

"But how about you two?"

"Not your problem." Dropping the line, Sarah left the dining room without glancing back. Loter was already used to this; Kniton was not. He glared in her direction and blew a snort on his thick mustache. He had been bothered by her attitude since a decade ago. He just did not understand how that fat woman could be so heartless. He could ignore her most of the time. It was this blatant arrogance that he could not bear.

They had been raising Loter for seventeen years. To this day, Sarah treated him as a job. Although Kniton was just like her at the beginning, he had thoroughly turned his attitude upside-down ten years ago. Now, he loved Loter as if they were truly related, and he hated Sarah for not.

Fuck Sarah. Why does she have to be a bitch? Uh.

That Ros is no better.

This is my son we are talking about. Who is he to take my son away from me? He has never visited us for this whole seventeen years. He thinks he can just walk into our life and rob my son from me because my son awakened some stupid superpower? My son is mine—

"Dad? Dad?"

"Hm?"

"What were you looking at?"

"Oh, uh, huh, nothing." Kniton paused, pouted, and restarted his sentence, "I was just thinking if you actually want to be a superhero. Like… You know how dangerous this job is. Your idol just died four years ago." His sentence faded, and his brows knitted.

"I don't mind dying, Dad."

"What?" Kniton gaped.

"Like you told me, helping people is important."

"I, I wasn't—" Kniton cut off his own sentence. He was never serious about telling Loter to help people. It was just an assignment from R.O.S. Kniton himself had no care for anybody else except Loter. This scenario just made Kniton more angry.

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"Besides, I won't die so easily. Mr. Ros already told me I have an ordering power. I'm strong enough to protect myself. Just be ready to be proud of your son."

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Kniton's bedroom was simple. Behind the door was an entryway that led to his queen-sized bed. On its two sides were the two rows of multiple closets. Each one was filled with suits in various types, colors, and patterns: trousers, waistcoats, tailcoats, blazers, shirts, tuxedos, ties, ribbons, etc. There were enough for a small museum.

Kniton stood before his bed, surrounded by his redundant fabric of fanciness. None of these clothes was from any mediocre brand. It was the luxuriousness and the astronomical price that used to attract Kniton. It was the feeling of buying and owning them that Kniton used to enjoy the most. It was why he agreed to raise Loter.

However, for decades, Kniton had been feeling a faint guilt when looking upon his opulent collections. Now, this guilt had evolved. The fact he caused Loter to dream of becoming a superhero weighed on his conscience. He felt a sense of disgust targeted at himself. This revulsion was not strong enough for him to tear himself up, yet it was enough for him to escape from his collections. If not for them, he would not poison Loter with R.O.S.'s selfless propaganda.

Kniton drove his gray hatchback into the inner city, where malls and skyscrapers crammed together. All the windows were open, and the car was zooming through street by street. The moist air of the cloudy noon had Kniton snuffling, increasing his vexation.

Although no one had told him anything, Kniton knew that Loter was going into the mountain campus, which was almost across the HueCam state. He had to give Loter a memento. It was the least he could do for his son.

Alright, where can I get Loter a memento?

A boutique, no. A mall, no. An auto dealer, no. A buffet, no. A brasserie, no. An office building, certainly not. Another boutique, no.

Kniton scanned through the buildings as he aimlessly passed by until he spotted the store with a chubby chef signboard above its door—Wingman's Candy Shop.

The kid likes Drooling Chocolate. I can get him one first. Maybe I will have some ideas later.

He slowed down and made a turn to park his hatchback next to a sidewalk along with a line of other cars. There were a few pedestrians. Most people were at work or at home. Online working became a thing a year ago. Kniton never cared. He did not have a job, anyway. His contract on raising Loter was a life tenure. He would not need to find a job even after Loter went to the mountain campus.

Kniton jogged across the wide road without looking at either side. Kniton snuffled again as he entered the candy shop through its soundproof glass doors.

Shelves after shelves of sweet snacks had him surrounded. The yellow and blue color theme made Kniton feel uncomfortable every time he went in.

Kniton picked a pack of four bars from the retail shelf. The yellow pigment on the wooden surface had faintly weathered. This subtle wear filled every corner of the store, yet nothing was much affected. Wingman's Candy Shop commenced operation several days before Kniton Spawman signed the contract to raise Loter. That was seventeen years ago, and both of them were still standing.

Kniton took the chocolate pack to the counter. As he swiped his credit card, he suddenly realized what he should buy. He recalled his memory of spending hours on that thing with Loter. He could just buy another one. Loter would love it, and they got to spend time together solving it!

"Knit! Is this for Loter?" the cashier asked while operating the cash register.

"Yeah, as always. He just can't get sick of it," Kniton tittered in a great mood.

Seizing both men's attention, the glass door of the store shattered. Drops and drips of rain were blown in by the wind. A centipede-like monster crept outside.

The creature was about the length of two people and had half of its body raised above the ground like a standing snake. Each segment of its long and narrow body was structured like a crab shell. The top was purple, and the bottom was white.

The monster lay down entirely and launched itself forward. Its body twisted and slithered. The corners of its crab-like segments bumped into each other repeatedly, creating a rapid and unsettling harmony.

Kniton rushed deeper into the shop as the monster approached. The poor cashier crossed the counter and tumbled to the other side.

Before the deepest wall, Kniton hid behind a shelf, hearing the cashier's screech and how it suddenly shut off. He forcefully palmed his mouth with both hands, preventing any scream or cry of fear. His walrus mustache was squeezed out of shape.

Other than his own racing heart, Kniton only heard the monster's chewing, the low munch of meat and the crisp crunch of bones.

It was a torture of mind. Just the realization of the situation was too much already. Kniton closed his eyes but could not shut his ears. Still covering his mouth, he quickly stood up and sprinted at the shattered door. The creature was merely a walkway and two shelves away from him. Neither the distance nor the shelves could stop it. Kniton just had no choice.

Luckily, the current feast seemed to interest the monster more than the escaping prey.

Unluckily, Kniton saw a much bigger monster of the same kind finishing up its meal from an opened police car. The torn, blood-soaked uniforms lay still on the seats. The monster abruptly turned toward Kniton, realizing his presence.

Contrary to Kniton's expectations, his thoughts were not centered around survival or desperation. Instead, Kniton was thinking about his son, Loter Spawman. He was sorry for what he did and felt a tiny spark of hope for the future: What if Loter actually becomes a great hero?