049 Trashy Trio - Part 4 - Mark’s POV

  So how did I ditch Gwen?

  Well…

  After stripping her and leaving her in her undies, I made a break for it.

  Gwen, who didn’t dare to risk being labeled as a pervert, screamed after me,

  "YOU’RE THE PERVERT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

  I, of course, did not dignify that with a response and sprinted like my life depended on it—which, let’s be real, it did.

  I zigzagged through the academy, eyes scanning for the cafeteria or classroom hallways.

  Anywhere with witnesses.

  Finally, out of breath, I skidded to a stop and consulted my smartwatch.

  Mirai’s location… found.

  …Yeah, I tagged her with a tracking device.

  Something I rarely did when I was with Mirai, since I didn’t want her to find out about my motivations.

  ‘Which were purely tactical and not creepy at all, shut up.’

  That aside, I quickly followed the coordinates, taking every shortcut I knew—

  And when I arrived, I immediately regretted my life choices.

  Because we were now embroiled in a serious duel against what had once been the strongest ESPer in all of the world.

  The Flame King, Carl Brandt.

  And he looked annoyed.

  Mirai, having just decked the man across the face, pressed her advantage.

  She rushed him with a flurry of punches—fast, sharp, relentless.

  Carl exhaled through his nose.

  Then—FWOOOM.

  He elementalized.

  His entire body turned to flame.

  Mirai’s punches went straight through him.

  "Oh, COME ON!" she shouted, barely pulling back before scorching herself.

  Carl reformed a few feet away and then vanished in flames..

  Mirai growled and I knew she was about to charge again, but—

  I ducked low as an angry kick nearly beheaded me.

  I barely had time to process that before Carl warped again.

  Shit.

  I moved instinctively.

  My foot lashed out, aiming for his only standing leg.

  Except—

  It elementalized.

  The flames vanished.

  And then—

  Rematerialized.

  Right. In. Front. Of. My. Face.

  CRACK.

  FUCK.

  Pain exploded across my nose.

  I stumbled back, seeing stars.

  I was pretty sure that kick broke my nose.

  Carl came at me with a vengeance.

  Probably still pissed about having his balls kicked.

  As expected of a man who once held the title of "Strongest ESPer in the World"—he had strong grudges too.

  Karl tried to attack his dad from a distance, throwing fireballs like a machine gun, but—

  It didn’t matter.

  Carl parried them, absorbed them, or just ignored them outright.

  It was too easy for him.

  I needed to buy time.

  So I did what I did best—

  I started talking.

  "Yo, old man, your balls still hurt?" I asked, dodging barely as he nearly took my head off with a flaming roundhouse.

  He didn’t answer.

  So I doubled down.

  "You want a massage?"

  CRACK.

  That was the sound of his fist hitting my ribs.

  "HNNGH—!" I choked, stumbling back as the heat in the air made it even harder to breathe.

  Yeah, as expected of an adult, he didn’t fall for it.

  Carl just snorted, "You have your mom’s mouth."

  Huh?

  Wait.

  He recognized me?

  That meant—he knew my mom.

  I barely had time to process that before Carl swung again.

  I needed another distraction.

  So I went with the most cursed idea possible.

  "Daddy?"

  Carl actually stopped.

  For one glorious second, he looked confused.

  And in that moment—

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Mirai tackled him from the side, flipping him.

  "HAH!" I gasped, clutching my ribs as I stumbled away. "It worked?!"

  Karl didn’t waste the opportunity.

  He launched himself like a torpedo, arms crossed over his chest, fire bursting behind him like a jet engine.

  He came down like a meteor.

  But Carl?

  Carl merely twisted mid-air and kicked the shit out of him.

  BOOM.

  Karl was sent flying.

  I straightened, rubbing my abdomen.

  That last hit had hurt like hell.

  Karl did the same, wiping blood from his lip, looking pissed and exasperated.

  Mirai stood between us, huffing and shaking, her hands on her knees.

  She was struggling.

  I sighed, cracking my neck. "Got any ideas?"

  Mirai barely looked up.

  "The power of friendship."

  …Huh?

  Karl groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

  Carl—who had been watching this whole thing with an amused expression—snorted. "That’s not how it works."

  Mirai ignored him. She held out her hands to us. "Hold my hands."

  Karl and I exchanged glances.

  And then, reluctantly, we did.

  Mirai squeezed our hands tight.

  "Karl, share your heat resistance."

  What.

  "And I’ll supply my luck," she added, completely serious.

  …Huh.

  Karl looked skeptical, but after a second, he closed his eyes.

  I barely had time to react before a flicker of fire erupted over my skin—

  But it didn’t burn.

  Instead, I felt warmth.

  Like I was standing by a bonfire on a cold night.

  Karl opened his eyes, looking just as surprised. "It… worked?"

  Mirai, however, looked terrible.

  She let go of our hands and promptly dropped face-first onto the floor.

  Karl and I both reacted, moving to catch her—

  But she was already down.

  Lying there, groaning, she weakly lifted one arm and gave us a thumbs up.

  "Boys… finish it."

  I watched as she shivered, looking like she had expended every last ounce of energy.

  I exhaled slowly.

  Alright.

  I reached up and fixed my broken nose with a sharp CRACK.

  Karl spat blood onto the floor and rolled his shoulders.

  "Let’s finish this."

  I chewed on my teeth, feeling my jaw stiffen.

  Woohoo~!

  If this was the story arc I remembered from my journal, then if we lost here, Karl would get the bad ending—

  Withdrawn from ESPer Academy. Forced into college.

  …Technically, that was good for me.

  Less competition.

  However, I wasn’t so optimistic as to rely on such a plan.

  Tackling the Team Building Exams with just two people was asking for trouble.

  Moreover, there would be future fights where having an ally would be useful.

  And most importantly—

  It was just human decency to not kick a guy when he was already down.

  “I’ll take the lead,” I said.

  Karl scoffed. “Fuck off and be my meatshield.”

  I rolled my shoulders, feeling the heat pressing against my skin. “I have no intention of being your meatshield.”

  Karl arched a brow. “Yeah? Then what?”

  I smirked. “I’ll be your shield.”

  “…What’s the difference?”

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I took off.

  The moment my foot slammed against the ground, Carl reacted.

  Spears of flame materialized above him, crackling with white-hot intensity before launching toward us like missiles.

  Fast. Precise. Merciless.

  But here was the thing—

  I was in front.

  Which meant the focus of his attack was me.

  Perfect.

  I activated Second Perspective—a slight nudge in Carl’s perception, making his ESP register me as a part of himself.

  It was a trick I had been working on. A tiny distortion in awareness. Just enough for his ESP to hesitate.

  The first spear came screaming toward me—

  I caught it.

  The flames curled around my fingers, licking at my skin—

  But they didn’t burn me.

  I crushed the spear in my grip and hurled it back.

  Carl’s eyes widened.

  I caught another spear. Then another.

  And I threw them back.

  For a split second, Carl looked… what was that? Shocked? Impressed? Pissed?

  I flicked my gaze sideways. Karl’s expression was just as stunned.

  Good. Stay surprised. But don’t fall behind.

  “Keep up,” I told him, moving forward as more spears rained down.

  This time, I didn’t just catch them—

  I parried them.

  And I kept moving.

  Carl warped into flames again, vanishing in an instant. My eyes flicked around, trying to track where he’d rematerialize. Mirai had gotten under his skin, and now he was cautious—probably trying to figure out what the hell she’d done to let Karl share his heat resistance.

  Good. Let him overthink it. That hesitation was the only edge we had.

  Karl was already breathing hard beside me, his body steaming from the heat. Mirai was still facedown in the dirt, wheezing. If we didn’t wrap this up soon, we wouldn’t have a team left to fight with.

  A flicker—Carl reappeared a dozen meters away, launching a volley of flame spears.

  I reacted instantly. Second Perspective.

  His ESP twitched for a split second, registering me as a part of himself. It was subtle—just a small, almost imperceptible hesitation—but it was enough. I caught the first spear in my hand, absorbing the heat without burning, then threw it right back. Carl’s eyes widened as he had to twist to avoid it.

  I grinned. “What’s wrong, old man? Your aim getting shaky?”

  Karl took the chance to hurl a massive fireball straight at his father. Carl sighed, dissolving into flames just before impact.

  Then—

  Behind!

  I barely managed to duck as Carl reappeared with a scorching roundhouse aimed for my head. The heat alone was suffocating. Even with Karl’s resistance, my skin felt like it was being roasted just by being near him. I twisted away, throwing a kick toward his knee, but he warped again before I could land the blow.

  "Dammit—!" Karl growled, his fists clenching.

  Carl was testing us, playing with us like a cat with mice. He reappeared a few meters away, arms crossed. "You two done flailing around?"

  Karl didn’t answer. Instead, he thrust both hands forward, igniting the air in front of him. A controlled inferno surged toward Carl. The old man scoffed and stepped forward—through the fire. The flames parted around him, twisting unnaturally as if avoiding his body entirely.

  "You’re going to have to do better than that," Carl remarked.

  Karl looked livid, but I grabbed his arm before he did something reckless. "Stop. He’s baiting you."

  Karl turned on me. "Then what the hell do you suggest?"

  I exhaled. "We keep forcing him to warp. The more he moves, the more openings we get."

  Carl raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You think you’ve figured something out?"

  "Well," I said, cracking my knuckles. "Not really. But we’ll improvise."

  Carl smirked. Then he was gone.

  I spun, already predicting where he’d pop up. His patterns weren’t random—he always warped just outside our striking range before attacking. Sure enough, he reappeared at Karl’s left, hand crackling with condensed heat.

  But Karl was ready this time.

  BOOM.

  A sudden burst of flame erupted from Karl’s feet, propelling him sideways just before Carl’s strike landed. The old man’s punch hit nothing but air.

  My turn.

  I lunged, twisting my body mid-motion to throw a spinning kick right where Carl’s ribs would be—

  But the moment I made contact, his body disintegrated into flames.

  Shit—

  WHAM.

  His elbow crashed into my spine from above, sending me face-first into the dirt. My whole back throbbed from the impact. Before I could even breathe, he stomped down on me. I barely rolled away in time to avoid getting my ribs shattered.

  Karl roared, hurling another fireball. Carl absently swiped his hand through the air, and the fireball collapsed into nothing.

  "Still too slow," Carl muttered.

  I pushed myself up, panting. Carl was ridiculous. We were barely keeping up.

  But then I glanced at Karl.

  And Karl grinned.

  I blinked. Then I followed his gaze—to Carl’s foot.

  For the first time since the fight started, he had stayed in one place.

  "You got him!" Karl shouted.

  I didn’t hesitate. I shot forward, grabbing at Carl’s arm—but he was already warping.

  No—

  Then I saw it.

  Carl’s flames flickered wrong for just a fraction of a second. Like they were lagging behind.

  Mirai’s ability? No. Second Perspective.

  I pulled.

  Not physically—mentally. I willed his ESP to keep recognizing me as part of itself, just for a second longer. His body tried to elementalize—but failed.

  For the first time, Carl’s expression changed.

  He was stuck.

  Karl didn’t waste the opportunity.

  His fist ignited, blue flames flickering at the edges. His entire arm glowed with intense heat. Supernova.

  "TAKE THIS—!"

  He swung.

  And Carl sighed.

  Then he raised a hand—and snuffed the fire out with his fingers.

  Karl’s punch landed—with no flames.

  Carl barely flinched.

  My stomach dropped.

  The fight was over.

  THUMP.

  The sound of a body hitting the ground echoed through the heat-drenched air. For a moment, I thought it was Karl.

  It wasn’t.

  Carl Brandt—the Flame King, the man who had been toying with us this entire fight—lay sprawled on the ground, completely unconscious.

  And standing over him, shaking out her fist, was Mirai.

  "...What." Karl’s voice was blank.

  I could only stare.

  Mirai grinned, wiggling her fingers. “I clocked him.”

  There was a long silence.

  Karl opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again. "HOW?!"

  Mirai burst out laughing, doubling over, barely able to breathe. “I can’t believe it worked again! That’s twice now! Faking death for the win! Hahahaha—”

  I let out a long sigh, rubbing my face. “You weren’t faking death, Mirai. You were faking unconsciousness. There's a difference.”

  “Potato, potahto,” she wheezed between laughs.

  I groaned. “That’s—no, that’s literally different things.”

  Karl was still frozen in place, his eyes darting between Mirai and his unconscious father. "What the actual fuck just happened?"

  Mirai straightened, slapping her hands together like she’d just finished a job well done. “Well! After we held hands, Mark’s ESP kinda... leaked onto me.” She pointed at me. "Your psychic invisibility. You gave it to me without realizing."

  Karl snapped his head toward me. “You can do that?!”

  I coughed. “Not... intentionally."

  Karl looked even more bewildered. “So, what, my dad just forgot she existed?”

  Mirai smirked. "Basically."

  A slow realization crept over Karl’s face. His mouth opened slightly. “Then that means...”

  I sighed. “Yeah. It means we won.”

  Silence.

  Then Mirai collapsed onto her back, cackling.

  “WE WON BY A FUCKING FLUKE!” she howled. “HAHAHAHA!”

  Karl groaned loudly, dragging his hands down his face. "This is so stupid…. but I’ll take it…"

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, well. Stupid works.”