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King of All Superhumans

Orphan-turned-bartender Jaime, believed to be ordinary despite a superhuman-creating event, is the most powerful among them, able to mimic and amplify superpowers. With Armageddon approaching, he is destined to be the Superhuman King, standing at the crossroads of a celestial war. Armed with immense powers, he must choose his allegiance between angels or demons, his decision bearing the weight of the universe's fate.

Adam_Aksara · Urbain
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140 Chs

My Name is Jaime, and This is My Story

In the morning, as usual, I meditate, an activity I've been doing for the past 3 years, specifically since I lost my superhuman's power. I did everything I could to regain my strength, including meditation. However, I usually just feel sleepy, but I keep persevering with it.

Honestly, since I lost my memory, two days ago my body has felt different. I don't quite understand what has changed, but my body feels much more energetic, lighter, doesn't tire easily, my concentration is sharper, and somehow, I can almost feel the energy flowing when I meditate. It feels mysterious when I sense an air as soft as silk flowing into my body, swirling into every cell and filling my nerves. Speaking of meditation, I no longer feel sleepy like usual; instead, I feel so peaceful and calm, so in harmony with the surroundings, and my emotions have become more stable. Maybe this is what they mean when they say that with regular meditation, the body becomes accustomed to tranquility and energy. Finally, my meditation has borne fruit, it was not in vain that I forced myself every day.

Will there come a time when I become a superhuman? Where am I worthy of Nadia?

After meditation, I changed my clothes and took out my motorbike to go to the Eve café, passing the same road for 3 years, reminding me of the first time I took this route.

Exactly 3 years ago.

My hometown is located at the foot of a mountain. The air is so refreshing. Thousands of green trees grow densely, filling every inch of land, forming a natural forest that surrounds my village. The chirping of birds never ceases, waking us up every morning. Within the forest, it's not uncommon to see monkeys and gibbons playfully swinging, calling out to their group members.

They showcase their protruding teeth. Herds of elephants often pass through the forest. The air around our place is always cold, especially from midnight until the morning. Occasionally, I would find deer walking among our unfenced houses, snakes hiding in barrels placed beneath the houses, and often troops of monkeys stealing food from our plates.

My village is a small one, inhabited by only a few dozen families. We, the orphans and I, live in wooden houses with earthen floors, far from luxury. Our pets still roam the streets. To the casual observer, we appear to be rough folks in simple clothing. The men in our village often wander shirtless.

I have to admit that since I was young, I've been a bookworm; children's books, storybooks, picture books, science books, textbooks, and of course, adult books — I've read them all. In the end, everything I ever read proved useless as I was often forced to work in the fields. Much heavy labor has shaped me into a muscular man like the other robust men in my village. But, in terms of intellect? I just had to accept my lot. Using the terms of city folks, we are like big, powerful, yet dim-witted buffaloes.

Have you ever heard a story about a shepherd who found an eagle's egg? He placed the egg with the chicken eggs to be incubated. When they hatched, they looked the same. Yet, the eagle chick felt different from its siblings. That's how I feel when I'm with my family. I feel different, although I don't know what makes me so. I always desired a life more exciting and colorful than what lay before my eyes: two plots of land to tend and the freedom to choose whether I'd plant tomatoes, potatoes, yams, or chili in specific seasons.

I was even pressured to produce offspring as soon as possible!!!

For God's sake, I wish I could fly freely like the eagles soaring in the sky, seeing the world and all its contents while I'm still alive and before being tied down to Jaime, little Jaime. I once saw an advertisement with the word "Family" under which was an image of a busy father struggling with his naughty children. Beside it was another picture labeled "Bachelor" depicting a joyous single man, surrounded by several attractive and sexy women, laughing.

Young men would surely understand my feelings.

Sadly, I wasn't one blessed with such fortune. It seems I was destined to till the soil, be friends with a hoe, and marry young. Proposals from neighboring village daughters and girls from other nearby villages have started pouring in for me. Perhaps I am considered prime stock in terms of facial attractiveness, with a sharp nose and a proportional body, typical of sexy men.

Once upon a time when I was a child, I met an old man—who said he was from the city. He purposely came to our small village to stay with us. The people in my village always believed that a guest was God's messenger. Especially that old man who was 80 years old and still looked healthy. He loved to tell tales of legends and fairy tales. I learned many things from him, especially about life in the city. One day when I came home from school with torn clothes and lips still smeared with blood after trading blows with a schoolmate, I saw him sitting and fishing by the river. I greeted him and walked over to him. I sat down next to him, dipping my feet into the water, and washed the blood off my face.

"Grandpa, tell me a fairy tale," I asked him. No matter how many times he told the stories, I always loved them.

The old man laughed and ruffled my hair with his old, wrinkled hand. "Jaime, I see you almost always listen to my fairy tales. Which one do you like the most?"

"The story of the prince saving a princess by killing a dragon," I said eagerly, jumping up with enthusiasm. "I'll never get tired of that story."

The grandfather laughed, showing his toothless grin. He nodded his head and began telling the story again with his beautiful, melodic voice. He always managed to transport me to the land of princes, princesses, and dragons, accompanied by the soothing sound of the rushing river. At the end of the story, he asked, "What do you like about this fairy tale?"

I stood up, thumping my chest proudly, "A true man should be brave enough to do anything for the one he loves."

The old man laughed heartily at my answer. I frowned and sat back next to him, lying down looking at the mountains and blue sky above us. Clouds moved slowly. Silence lingered between us. It seemed he was waiting for my next question. "Grandpa, I've dreamt several times of a girl I like crying in front of me, asking for my help." I paused, picking up a flat stone and skipping it across the river's surface. It skipped three times before sinking. "Will my dream come true?"

"Perhaps," the grandfather replied as he reeled in his fishing line. "What are you afraid of?"

I hesitated before voicing the concern that had bothered me ever since I first heard the fairy tale. "I'm not a prince and I don't have a kingdom, but I'd die for a princess. Wouldn't the princess scorn me if she knew I wasn't a prince? I'm just an orphan. I don't have a palace or any treasures, except the courage to kill a dragon and anything that might harm my princess."

The old man set his fishing rod aside and looked at me softly, "Jaime, remember. Wealth and power are but mists in life that can come and go quickly. In the end, what everyone needs is this," he touched the center of my chest.

"Breast?" I asked innocently.

"Heart," he smiled. "A pure and clean heart. A forgiving heart. A heart that never gives up. A heart that loves sincerely. A heart full of tenderness and other riches. By having a rich and clean heart, the world will pave the way for you, and God will grant you the best."

"Will a princess accept me if I have riches in my heart?"

"You will save this world," the old man said, looking intently at me and touching my head. I felt a light vibration entering my body, invigorating me.

His words enchanted me for a long time. Until one day, a classmate told me that the old storytelling man had recently said he would save the world and would become a great person in the future. My heart stirred, looking at that skinny classmate with a goofy smile.

Come on, he's the weakest among the male students here, and he prefers to hang out with female students. That damned old man should've made a definitive choice, me or that friend of mine to save the world.

Suddenly, from another seat, the most fierce and largest student abruptly stood up and shouted, "That old man said I would save the world."

'Him too?'

Next, in another corner, my friend also stood up and shouted, "Me! The grandfather said I would save the world!" Soon, almost half the male students in the class stood up and argued, each claiming they were the one destined to save the world as per the old man's words.

'Alright then! The forgetful old man doesn't need to decide who would be the world's savior. He just decided to create a squad of world saviors.'

Not long after, senior students from the next room, separated only by a perforated wall, also shouted the same thing. They claimed they were the ones destined to save the world, teasing each other until one of them shouted, "The strongest will save the world," and all the male students rushed out to the field to prove they were the world's saviors. It seems the old man told all the male students the same thing. I immediately rolled up my sleeves and walked out.

'Whoever stands last will face me. Someone needs to kick that false-hope giving old man's butt and throw him into the river.'

That evening, on my way home from school with a bruised face and torn clothes from the fights, I again found the old man fishing peacefully. I squinted at him from afar. Slowly, I put my school bag down on the ground. I sneaked up on him silently from behind. When I was right behind him, I was about to kick him, but I paused mid-air.

'I couldn't bring myself to kick an old man.'

"Why didn't you kick?" the old man asked without turning.

"I was just about to," I said, swinging my leg again to kick him. But he suddenly shifted, and my kick missed. With one hand, he caught my leg and pulled it lightly. I lost balance. With a tiny push, he made me fall into the river.

The old man laughed so hard, revealing his toothless grin as I emerged soaking wet from the river, slipping several times as I tried to climb out. "Did you win that contest?" he asked gleefully.

"Of course!!" I shouted angrily and continued walking, ignoring him.

"To save the world?"

"NO!!!" I exclaimed irritably, "I don't want them to take my princess!"