Natasha let out a soft chuckle. "If only it were that easy to gain their trust. They wouldn't have evolved into what they are now, surviving against the backdrop of New York's gangs in less than five years."
"Yeah, you'll be alright when you return," Clint replied, his voice a mix of hope and uncertainty.
"Okay," Natasha concluded the call, extending her hand to pat the driver's seat. "Clint , let's head back."
As James returned to the orphanage, a sense of unease settled over him. He could feel the air change around him, as if the atmosphere itself were charged with anticipation. It wasn't just him; even Mother Hana and Clarice sensed a disturbance, despite being on different floors.
The strange cyclone of energy finally subsided after what felt like an eternity, and under the night sky, a sound echoed—a haunting, resonant cry resembling that of a phoenix.
Cross-legged on the chest, James felt his shirt burn away, consumed by a layer of red fire. He watched in awe as this fire took shape, slowly morphing into a magnificent, bright red bird adorned with golden flames. Glancing at the back pattern in the mirror, he was struck with emotion.
"What kind of bird is this?" he wondered aloud.
James was certain that the design represented a sacred firebird, but his knowledge of mythology offered limited options: the Golden Crow or perhaps the Phoenix. But as the golden-red flames danced, a realization washed over him.
"It's the legendary Vermillion Bird!" he exclaimed, feeling a rush of energy surge through him.
Extending his palm, he ignited a small spark, calm yet teeming with latent power. This was the manifestation of the Vermillion Bird's essence, controlling the flames generated by the natural aura around him. However, he quickly recognized that his current abilities still had their limitations.
Despite this, James felt a shift within himself—he was no longer just an ordinary boy; he had become a half-superhuman, equipped with the foundational skills necessary for survival in this new world.
The back pattern of the Zodiac Knight remained normally hidden, only surfacing when stimulated by power, enhancing the user's physical attributes. It was a thoughtful design, allowing James to avoid unwanted questions about his unique back pattern.
Just then, Clarice opened the door and caught sight of James admiring himself in the mirror.
After a series of training sessions, his body had developed noticeable muscle definition—subtle yet undeniably strong. Clarice, only seven and blissfully unaware of the implications, simply thought her brother had grown stronger. If she were a decade older, she might have found herself entranced.
"Brother, what are you… what are you doing?" Clarice asked, wrinkling her nose. "What's that smell?"
James checked himself and realized there was indeed an odor—likely from the intense physical changes he was undergoing. It wasn't unusual for the body to purge toxins, but perhaps he hadn't cleaned up well enough.
"Does this concern you?" he replied, grabbing a towel. "If you've got something to say, make it quick. I might just rub my scent off on you."
"Huh!" Clarice wrinkled her nose again. "Grandma Hana's waiting for you in the study. I'm outta here, big bug, hum~"
She stuck out her tongue and darted away.
After a quick shower, James donned a simple white vest, admiring his reflection with satisfaction. The vest hugged his frame just right, showcasing his muscle contours without being overly ostentatious.
As he entered the study, Mother Hana looked up, visibly taken aback. Peering over her reading glasses, she scrutinized his physique.
"Goodness, it's cold! Why are you only wearing that vest? You'll catch a chill! Go back and cover up—hospital bills aren't cheap," she admonished, her voice laced with concern.
"Grandma, I'm fine! I'm strong! Look!" James flexed, mimicking the poses of bodybuilders he'd seen on TV.
To Mother Hana, barely sixty and still sharp as ever, he appeared no different than the boy who had struggled under her watchful eye. With a sigh, he pulled on his coat, conceding to her nagging.
"Alright, Grandma, what's going on?" he asked, settling onto a wooden stool, a position he'd grown accustomed to since acquiring the chest.
Mother Hana closed her book, an unusual seriousness overtaking her. "Here's the thing..."
A representative from Stark Industries had visited the orphanage, led by a senior manager who had offered a generous donation of money and food. After spending time with the children, she had approached Mother Hana with an adoption proposal—specifically for Clarice.
James felt a knot form in his stomach. "Why Clarice?" he asked, his voice tight. "She's my sister in all but blood. We can't be separated."
"I know, James," Mother Hana replied gently, sensing his unease. "But this is a big opportunity for her. The lady was impressed by her . I didn't want to decide without discussing it with you first."
James swallowed hard. The bond he shared with Clarice was special, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing her. "Just think about it," he muttered, his mind racing. "We're all she has."
Mother Hana nodded, her expression softening. "I understand. Take your time to consider it."