Chapter 94 Superhumans are the last wall
1082 Words
Adam crumpled the bill in his hand and stuffed it into his pocket, then pulled out the short rod he’d acquired earlier.
After much deliberation, he’d decided to name the stubby thing the “Faith Baton.”
His willingness to grab the so-called Devil’s blood money outright was directly tied to this very artifact.
The moment he’d seen the hundred-dollar bill, he’d sensed it—the same strange energy he’d encountered before: raw, unrefined faith-force, the kind tied to Deity worship.
With a quick pass of the Faith Baton, the tainted divine energy clinging to the note had been purified and absorbed. Now, the bill was just ordinary currency—and his baton had gained a fresh charge.
In fact, the amount of faith-energy on this single note was even greater than what he’d harvested from the Acolyte’s ritual implements weeks ago.
Clearly, someone was investing heavily. If an ordinary person picked up one of these bills, the effect would be nearly identical to demonic possession.
“Boss… are you *sure* this is safe?” Henry asked nervously, watching Adam tuck the money away without hesitation.
“No problem,” Adam said, twirling the baton like a street enforcer. “Let’s look around. Did any civilians report this to you? Are there more of these bills nearby?”
Henry thought for a moment, then replied with growing concern:
“No one’s come to me directly. Actually… most locals seem reluctant to even talk to us. It’s weird.”
“Not really,” Adam said with a shrug. After that PR mission, he’d grown used to public distrust. “Let’s just sweep the area. Keep an eye out for more of these notes.”
“Boss, it’s just a hundred bucks…” Henry finally blurted out, unable to hold back. “This thing is clearly cursed! We don’t even know what—”
“So what do you suggest?” Adam cut in, still half-asleep, turning to Henry with bleary but sharp eyes.
“Of course I know it’s dangerous. But if I don’t pick it up, who will?”
“I can handle it—I’m confident nothing bad will happen to me. But if a civilian grabs one? That’s when real trouble starts.”
“Besides,” he added dryly, “if you hadn’t said anything, I’d have thought this was free money falling from the sky.”
With that, Adam stopped engaging with Henry’s hesitation. He gripped his baton—looking more like a stray dog’s chew toy than a weapon—and activated his *Hearing of Everything*.
He hadn’t meant the line as some grand declaration. To him, it was practical: collect cursed cash, feed his baton, kill two birds with one stone.
But to Henry, those words struck like a revelation.
As he watched Adam’s back recede down the empty street, the figure seemed to grow taller, sharper—imbued with quiet resolve.
*If I don’t pick it up, who will?*
Simple. Direct. Heavy with unspoken duty.
For the first time, Henry truly *saw* Adam—not as a lazy genius to bribe, but as someone who carried the weight of the world without fanfare.
He remembered their ethics lecture from last month:
> “If the mountains fall and the seas boil, superhumans are the last wall.”
> “If the Summoning Ceremonies awaken ancient horrors, superhumans are the ones who raise blades against Deities.”
> “We are the shield. The sword. The final flame in the dark.”
Back then, it was just rote memorization—easy for their enhanced minds.
But today, watching Adam quietly neutralize a supernatural threat while others fled, Henry realized: Adam had been living those words all along, even when skipping class.
Shame burned in his chest. He’d spent weeks trying to buy Adam’s favor, treating him like a tool.
Now, he felt small.
Fueled by sudden conviction, Henry’s face flushed red. He sprinted to Adam’s side, breathless with emotion.
“Boss! I was wrong! I get it now!”
Adam: ??? *Get what?*
“Good,” Adam said, not looking up. “Then start picking up bills.”
He didn’t ask for details. Faith-energy kept flowing into his baton with every note he collected.
In just over an hour, he’d gathered more than a thousand dollars. His pockets bulged, and the Faith Baton now glowed faintly, pulsing like it was on the verge of evolving.
And unlike normal scavenging, no one gave him dirty looks. Passersby who spotted him would freeze, eyes wide with alarm—then bolt in the opposite direction, as if the money itself might leap onto them.
Adam didn’t mind the solitude. But he *did* notice Henry acting… odd.
The kid walked with his chest puffed out, chin high, radiating unnatural pride. Every time they spotted another cursed bill, Henry would dive for it first, then present it to Adam with both hands like it was an honor.
Adam: …
***
The district felt hollow, abandoned.
On a quiet side street, a little girl tugged her mother’s hand, pointing at an ice cream shop on the corner.
“Mommy, I want ice cream.”
“Let’s go home, sweetie. They’re probably not open yet.” The mother glanced around nervously, pulling her daughter away.
The “hauntings” had dragged on for weeks. With no overt destruction, the UHG hadn’t deployed superhumans—too few, too valuable for ambiguous cases.
She and her husband were already planning to move. Even at noon, she didn’t feel safe.
But her daughter wouldn’t relent. Sighing, she hurried to the shop, paid quickly, and waited as the clerk scooped strawberry ice cream into a cone.
Her hands trembled. Daylight offered no comfort.
“Is this your daughter?” a calm voice asked from behind.
“Yes,” she replied, momentarily relieved by human contact. She took the cone.
But the moment she turned—
—the ice cream slipped from her fingers, splattering on the pavement.
Her blood ran cold.
Her daughter stood frozen in place.
A middle-aged man knelt beside her, gently stroking her hair.
In the girl’s small hand: a crisp hundred-dollar bill.
“How perfectly aligned,” the man murmured, smiling warmly. “After all this time… you’re the most suitable vessel I’ve found.”
He cupped the girl’s chin, turning her vacant eyes toward her mother.
“Go on,” he said, voice soft as silk. “Say goodbye to your mommy.”
- Writer
