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3.44% Adapting in Marvel / Chapter 2: [2] Darwin The Taxi Driver

Chapter 2: [2] Darwin The Taxi Driver

"Ehm.. Sir, you've been going around Brooklyn three times already. Do you want to continue?"

On the streets of Brooklyn, inside a taxi.

A middle aged driver looked through the rearview mirror, his expression strange as he looked at the young Asian man in the back seat, muttering in his usual talkative manner.

"Old man, shut up and drive."

A cold voice came from the back seat.

At the same time, the driver also felt the cold sensation at the back of his head, and the familiar feeling made him shiver involuntarily.

"No offense, sir."

The driver wiped the cold sweat off his forehead and wisely closed his mouth.

"Damn, is my luck really that bad?"

In the back seat, Brian irritably put away his gun, his gaze drifting to the bustling crowd outside.

Brian had been circling around Brooklyn for ten hours already.

In those ten hours, every time Brian reached a new place, he would blend into the busiest crowd, hoping that his mutant ability would provide some warning.

But what drove Brian crazy was that his mutant ability hadn't given him any warning even once.

In fact, ever since awakening the Sylar template, Brian could, like Sylar, hear a "tick-tock" sound like mechanical operation whenever he encountered another mutant.

As long as there was a mutant nearby, Brian's ability would provide an alert.

However, he had already circled Brooklyn for ten hours, and his mutant ability had not given a single alert.

This only indicated one thing.

In those ten hours, he hadn't encountered a single mutant.

"Are mutants really that few in 1962?"

Brian couldn't help but mutter as he directly ordered the middle aged driver to pull over.

After getting out of the car, Brian signaled to the driver that he could leave.

As for the fare? In the land of the free, did he really need to pay?

Besides, now that he was a mutant, couldn't he do whatever he wanted? Heh~

"You ungrateful bastard! I hope you rot in hell—"

Only after the middle-aged driver had driven far away did he dare roll down the window and curse at Brian.

Tch

Brian, in response, simply raised his hand and fired a burst of bullets at the driver.

Terrified, the driver floored the gas pedal and fled in a panic.

After venting a bit, Brian felt much better.

Ten hours of fruitless effort had only strengthened his resolve to join Professor X's team.

Sometimes, appropriately leveraging others' power was indeed necessary.

Creak.

Just as Brian stood on the roadside, considering whether to abandon this hunting plan, a green taxi stopped in front of him.

"Sir, need a ride?"

Inside the taxi, a young African-American driver rolled down the window and gave Brian a professional smile.

Brian also showed a bright smile.

Because as soon as this taxi driver spoke, Brian heard the heavenly sound of mechanical operation echoing in his mind.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

The crisp and pleasant ticking sound put Brian in an excellent mood.

He glanced at the African-American driver and then directly opened the door, sitting in the front passenger seat.

"Hey, bro, I'd suggest you sit in the back; it's more comfortable there. Oh, by the way, let me introduce myself. You can call me Darwin."

After hearing the driver's introduction, Brian's smile grew even brighter.

Clearly, he had found a fellow mutant.

The driver in front of him was indeed a mutant.

And not just any mutant—he was the cannon fodder mutant from First Class: Darwin.

"Hello, Darwin, nice to meet you. You can call me Sylar."

Brian didn't follow Darwin's suggestion and remained seated in the front, speaking with a meaningful tone.

When you're out in the world, your identity is whatever you give it.

Of course, Brian wasn't going to tell Darwin his real name.

While hunting, Brian had only one name: Sylar.

"Sylar?"

Darwin looked at Brian with a puzzled expression, clearly finding the name strange.

"Alright, Darwin, don't worry about the details. Can you drive me around Brooklyn for a while?"

Brian waved his hand and spoke to Darwin.

"Of course, the customer is always right. But sir, are you really sure you want to do this?"

When Darwin heard Brian's destination, his first thought was that he was about to make some good money.

As a young taxi driver, he didn't care why Brian had such an odd request.

As long as Brian could pay the fare, Darwin was willing to drive around not only Brooklyn but all of New York City if needed.

"Of course, Darwin, just drive."

Brian could see Darwin's skepticism about his financial capability, so he took out a wallet from his pocket.

The wallet was filled with cash.

As someone who owned a watch shop in Brooklyn, Brian could be considered middle class.

This amount of money was nothing to him.

Upon seeing the cash Brian displayed, Darwin didn't hesitate for even a second. He immediately stepped on the gas and started driving around Brooklyn.

As the taxi set off, Brian and Darwin began casually chatting with each other.

To Darwin's surprise, Brian's conversational skills were so impressive that even he, an experienced driver, found it hard to keep up.

During their chat, Darwin was amazed to learn that this "Sylar" bro was supposedly a professor of genetic mutation.

Of course, Brian was no professor of genetic mutation.

But when dealing with a poorly educated taxi driver who had never attended school, Brian only needed a bit of smooth-talking to convince Darwin that he was indeed a professor of genetic mutation.

Once again, when you're out in the world, your identity is whatever you give it.

"Darwin, do you believe it?

This world is undergoing a transformation.

A small number of people will experience mutations in their genes, thereby gaining extraordinary abilities.

These people, without a doubt, are God's chosen ones."

Brian glanced at Darwin, speaking with a meaningful tone.

What Brian said made Darwin pause for a moment, slightly dazed.

"Extraordinary abilities? God's chosen ones?"

Darwin stared at the road ahead, somewhat lost in thought.

Ever since he had awakened his ability, he had always seen it as a curse.

Darwin never dared to reveal his ability.

He was afraid of being treated as an outcast, a freak, by those around him.

Because of this, even though he had awakened an ability like Reactive Evolution, he still remained an unremarkable taxi driver.

Brian's talk about being "God's chosen ones" brought some comfort to Darwin's heart.

Suddenly, he felt an urge to speak out.

"Professor Sylar, have you ever found any other gifted individuals?"

Darwin turned to look at Brian, asking with some anticipation.

All these years, Darwin had been hiding his abilities.

This had made him feel incredibly lonely, and he was eager to find others like him.

"Yes, Darwin, why do you think I'm telling you all of this?

Darwin, you are God's chosen one."

Brian turned his head, looking at Darwin with a serious expression and a gentle smile.

"Professor?"

Darwin was startled; he slammed on the brakes, causing the speeding taxi to come to an abrupt stop.

"Relax, Darwin.

I've been watching you for a long time.

In front of me, you don't need to hide."

"As I said before, you are God's chosen one, an evolutionary of humankind, a pioneer, a hero of humanity.

You should showcase your talent, not bury it.

You should shine brightly, like a superhero.

Not just be an average taxi driver."

Brian spoke calmly, his voice filled with appreciation and encouragement for Darwin.

This had a huge impact on Darwin, who had never received such attention, leaving him completely swayed.

"I... I can become a hero?"

Darwin looked at Brian, somewhat lost and unsure.

"Yes, Darwin, your talent will make you a shining star."

Brian answered Darwin's question with great certainty.

"Professor, what should I do?"

Darwin, captivated by words like "hero," looked at Brian with eyes full of enthusiasm.

It was clear that he now saw Brian as his mentor.

'Uneducated teenagers are indeed easy to fool, especially mutant uneducated teenagers, even easier.'

Seeing Darwin fall for it, Brian couldn't help but think this to himself.

[Image]


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