THE STORY OF BOBBY ASTOR (I)

It had been almost six years since the inception of his dream to become the greatest Prime and Hero.

Bobby grew up being informed that both of his parents were deceased. His mother had passed away during childbirth, and as for his father, the details surrounding his demise were never disclosed. In fact, Bobby was kept in the dark about anything related to his father, except for the fact that he died due to certain complications.

He was raised by his maternal grandparents.

For the next ten years or so, everything went well for him and his family until his grandmother fell seriously ill from cancer.

While the disease was treatable, it turned out she had been suffering from this illness for a long time, and as a result, it had progressed to a more advanced and deadly stage.

This was still treatable but the cost was now astronomical and undoubtedly impossible for a retired couple in their sixties who relied solely on their pension.

Bobby's grandmother eventually succumbed to complications from the illness, and she was buried the following day.

They had silently anticipated this day due to their dire circumstances. However, accepting it proved to be exceedingly difficult, and they clung to the hope that things might improve.

The burial was swift, attended by only a handful of friends. Bobby struggled to come to terms with the loss of his grandmother, while his grandfather appeared to be coping relatively better with the news.

He single-handedly organized the burial proceedings, occasionally sharing a smile or two in response to the condolences he received.

Upon completing the burial and bidding farewell to all the attendees, Bobby's grand father abruptly vanished, leaving Bobby greatly concerned as he had no clue about his sudden departure.

Later that evening, Bobby's grandfather returned in a sorry state—completely drunk and battered, adorned with various bruises and bloodstains.

Bobby attempted to assist his unsteadily swaying, inebriated form, but his grandfather promptly shrugged off his aid, rejecting any assistance. Instead, he fixed Bobby with a gaze that would remain etched in his memory.

It was unclear whether the look conveyed hatred, anger, or blame. Nevertheless, one thing Bobby knew for certain was that it was a gaze he never wished to receive from his grandfather.

Moving away from Bobby with sluggish steps, his grandfather paused halfway, turning back around with the same expression on his face.

"Your father and his people will be here to pick you up tomorrow."

Stunned by the cryptic message, Bobby stood there, blankly gazing at the back of his grandfather as he walked away.

'My father?' echoed through his mind.

He had spent his entire life believing that everyone and everything related to his father was likely dead, only to hear now that he was alive and suddenly coming to take him away.

Bobby quickly shook off his daze and raced after his grandfather, intending to get an explanation. However, his grandfather had already reached his room and locked the door behind him. No matter how many times Bobby knocked or how loudly he called out, he received no response.

That day would end up being the last he saw or heard from his grandfather. His grandfather remained secluded in his room, not opening the door for Bobby or responding to any calls, even when his father's people came to pick him up.

If it weren't for the occasional sound of footsteps, Bobby might have assumed his grandfather had likely hurt himself.

The next day, a black luxury hovering car parked in front of their house. This surprised Bobby, as he wasn't aware of any family members or friends who owned a similar vehicle.

He curiously waited to see who would step out of the vehicle, and as expected, it wasn't someone he had met before.

It was a woman who appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties, dressed professionally in a black suit and matching skirt.

Her expression was stern, and her movements seemed stiff as she approached the door of Bobby's house.

Bobby, who had been observing the mysterious woman from a window, hastily moved toward the house's door, only to be stunned at the sight of her already inside, holding a key that looked exactly like the one his grandfather used.

She noticed him, and for a moment, her expression appeared more stern.

Adjusting the glasses on her face, her eyes surveyed the entire house and then settled on Bobby. From her expression, it was clear she was anything but impressed.

Bobby, at this point, began to suspect who the woman before him might be. However, he decided to wait for her to introduce herself first before jumping to conclusions.

After scrutinizing Bobby and the house for several minutes, the lady finally addressed him, though her tone was haughty.

"Get into the car now; your father is waiting."

Bobby remained dumbfounded, staring at the lady in front of him after hearing the words "your father is waiting." He only snapped out of it when he noticed the lady's expression turning uglier due to his unresponsiveness.

He quickly looked toward the direction of his grandfather's room, which was still locked. His eyes lingered on the door for a while before he finally followed behind the lady to the car parked outside.

Bobby was still in disbelief and quite frightened by the fact that he was about to meet his father for the first time in about ten years.

A lot of thoughts ran through his mind, from why he had been told his father had passed away by his grandparents to why his father hadn't made any attempt to reach out to him until now. He wondered if the discussion with his grandfather had a hand in his current situation or why he had come to pick him up with such an expensive-looking car and this strange lady.

Bobby was directed towards the backseat of the car by the lady, and he nervously opened the door to get in; however, he didn't spot anyone seated in there.

He was about to call the lady's attention to this when the screen stuck to the car's roof suddenly powered on and displayed a man who looked to be in his early forties. His face bore a striking resemblance to that of Bobby; however, he looked a lot more refined, fleshier, and matured.

"Father," Bobby muttered under his breath.

He was about to repeat those words, this time in a more audible tone, when the man cut him off. His voice sounded just as unimpressed and stern as his expression.

"Don't make me regret this."

Those were the first words spoken by a father to a son he hadn't seen for ten years.

Immediately after he said that, before Bobby could even think of a response, he ended the call, leaving just a blank screen behind.