Chapter 8.

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The day after Lana had come over for dinner, I expected the worst. But there was no knock on the door from the FBI, and Dad hadn't mentioned anything suspicious. Still, it was too early to think I was in the clear.

The school day dragged on, and now I found myself outside Lin Sun's address. It was a typical block of flats with an alleyway that led to a fire escape along the side of the building. After scouting out the area, I pushed one of the large communal bins beneath the escape ladder and began my ascent.

I was dressed in black joggers and a dark blue sports hoodie—casual enough to blend in, but not so conspicuous that I'd scream "home intruder." As I climbed up the fire escape, I located his apartment on the third floor.

Peering through the window, I saw not only Lin Sun but the other two members of the Sons of the Tiger trio. They were clearly arguing, though I couldn't hear anything over the music they had blaring inside.

Their confrontation went on for about twenty minutes before the guy I assumed to be Abe Brown slammed his amulet onto the coffee table and stormed out. Bob Diamond left soon after.

It was getting late, and the cold was creeping in as I continued watching from the fire escape. A few texts from Mum buzzed on my phone, asking when I'd be home after training.

Yeah, I'd skipped athletics to be here. I sighed. Lin Sun now had two amulets, but Bob had left with his still on him. Disappointed, I climbed down the fire escape and headed home.

The next night, I returned, this time dressed in warmer clothes. But once again, my vigil was fruitless. Bob didn't show up, and I was left watching Lin Sun down an entire bottle of Tennessee Bourbon. It was depressing, really, seeing someone who was supposed to be a Kung Fu master seeking solace in alcohol.

I trudged home again, my mood sour. I'd skipped Krav Maga this time, and no doubt my instructor would use it as another excuse to berate my commitment and try to boot me from the class.

Another slow day passed, filled with English and Spanish—my least favorite classes. English, because I couldn't care less about dissecting the meaning behind some 19th-century poet's mention of a red carpet, and Spanish because, well, I was just bad at it.

Finally, school ended, and I once again bolted before anyone from the gym could question my absence from training.

At home, I quickly swapped out my school clothes for my night-time stakeout attire and hurried back to my usual spot outside Lin Sun's building. Wrapping my arms around my knees for warmth, I kept an eye on his apartment, watching for any sign of movement.

The night dragged on with no sign of Lin Sun. Where could he be? Minutes turned into hours, and boredom settled in as I sat there, freezing my ass off.

Then, I heard it—a scuffle.

But it wasn't from the apartment. It was coming from the alley below. I looked down and held my breath.

My heart pounded as I recognized the figure at the entrance of the alley. Lin Sun. I would have cheered if it wouldn't have blown my cover.

I stayed still, watching him stagger down the alley, clutching the three amulets of power in one hand and a half-empty bottle of rum in the other. He was swaying, his movements unsteady, causing the scuffling noise I'd heard.

So that's where he'd been. The trio had officially disbanded, and the others had thrown their amulets back to him. He came to a halt, taking a long swig from the bottle before tossing the amulets into a heap among trash bags and bins.

If tonight weren't the night of my first power-up, I'd probably feel sorry for the guy. But what could I do to help? I was still technically just a kid.

I watched as he turned and stumbled away, waiting a minute to make sure he was gone for good. Once I was sure he wouldn't return, I scrambled down the fire escape, sliding down the top of the bin before hopping off and rushing over to where the amulets had landed.

I tossed aside the trash bags, getting muck, grime, and who knows what else on my hands. But I didn't care. I'd found them—the three amulets of power.

I stuffed them into my pockets and hurried out of the alley, keeping my hood pulled low over my face so no one could recognize me.

I walked a few streets away and hopped on a bus, grinning to myself as I found a seat at the back. Once I was sure no one could see what I was up to, I pulled the amulets from my pocket. I wiped my dirty hands on the seat next to me as I inspected them.

Only one of them was an actual amulet—a golden tiger's head on a chain. It looked exotic and expensive, definitely old, but otherwise unremarkable to the untrained eye.

The other two were golden as well, but shaped like tiger claws. They were on shorter chains meant to be worn around the wrists—fancy bracelets, I guessed.

I furrowed my brows. I could be wrong, seeing as this was a minor detail I hadn't paid much attention to in my previous life, but I was pretty sure they were supposed to combine into one or something.

The bus pulled up at my stop, and I quickly made my way home.

"How was training, sweetie?" Mum called from the kitchen as I walked in.

"Good, but I'm really tired. I think I'll have an early night," I replied, stifling a fake yawn.

"Alright, here's some dinner. Dad and I ate while you were out," she said, handing me a bowl of hot curry.

"Thanks, Mum," I said, taking it upstairs. I set the bowl aside and quickly washed my hands and the amulets under the bathroom tap.

"This is it—superhero time," I muttered to myself, grinning like a madman.

I placed the tiger head amulet around my neck and paused. I didn't feel any different. I jumped up and down, waved my arms around. Still nothing. I took the first bracelet and strapped it to my wrist. It fit snugly.

I tried jumping again, but no luck. Figures—they must all need to be worn at once, I thought. I placed the second bracelet around my opposite wrist and—WOOSH!

Holy shit.

There was no audible noise, but my mind was suddenly clearer than it had ever been. I didn't even need to jump; just rocking forward on the balls of my feet, I felt raw, unrestrained power coursing through me. I flexed my arms and knew instantly—I was stronger. So much stronger.

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I was brimming with excitement, though I suppressed my manic laughter as I reviewed the White Tiger's abilities. Enhanced strength, speed, agility, durability, and stamina—fundamentals for any true hero. Based on my comic book knowledge, these attributes were amplified far beyond human limits.

If only the Sons of the Tiger had tried combining all three amulets on a single person! I was now stronger than Captain America; I could easily outrun him around the Washington Monument. Sure, his martial skills might still give him an edge, but in terms of raw strength, I could outmatch him.

The durability I gained could shrug off bullets—at least from handguns. Sniper rounds, shotgun blasts, or explosives would still be problematic. Despite that, I felt invincible.

I also learned that any injuries could be healed at an accelerated pace by applying the amulet to the wound. I hoped I wouldn't need that ability anytime soon.

Unfortunately, the amulet's healing power was restricted to its wearer. Tigers are solitary creatures, and the amulet's spirit retained some of its instincts. It wouldn't allow others to use its powers unless they became the new owner. How these principles applied to the amulet's magic was beyond me. After all, it's magic. I didn't make the rules.

I gazed at the amulet around my neck, reflecting on my own mortality. It was one thing to want to save the world, but the prospect of near-fatal wounds was still terrifying.

Perhaps the most impressive new ability was the animal instincts. I could feel it in my bones. I was a predator. I could hear a fly in the next room and distinguish the individual ingredients in the curry on my desk.

My stomach rumbled, and I approached my cooling dinner. I dipped my pinkie into it and tasted the curry.

Sweet Christmas.

My taste buds were electrified. Tastes and textures I didn't know existed danced on my tongue. I ran my hand over my work desk. To anyone else, it was a smooth surface, but I could feel the minute imperfections in the workmanship. Amazing.

The most extraordinary enhancement was my sight. White Tigers, in addition to regular vision, had ultraviolet, electromagnetic, infrared, and dark vision.

Switching between these was easy; I simply willed myself to view each spectrum. However, I decided to experiment with those later, as there were more pressing matters to explore.

I opened my bedroom window and climbed out. Being on the top floor normally made this a reckless act, but not now. Despite only standing on the windowsill, my balance and coordination were perfect.

With only a few inches of space to stand on, I precisely positioned my feet. With a slight bend of my knees, I sprang upwards, grabbing the roof edge of my apartment building and flipping over.

What would have been impossible minutes ago was now effortless. I marveled at my acrobatics. I ran along the roof, cartwheeled into a handspring, and performed a front flip with a double rotation.

I felt electrified. The agility and speed I had now made me feel like a gazelle. I took a running start towards the edge of my building. Within a few steps, I reached my top speed. As I leapt off the edge, only my enhanced perception allowed me to keep up with my movements. I soared through the air.

I easily cleared the 26-foot (8-meter) gap to the next roof, landing with a roll to absorb the impact and maintain my momentum. I quickly got back up and sprinted across the rooftops.

I dashed across the skyline of Queens, pushing my new abilities to the limit, performing acrobatics and experimenting with my capabilities. After over 20 minutes of running and flipping, I began to feel the strain and needed a break.

I sat on the edge of a building, dangling my feet over the side as I caught my breath. Previously, I could only sustain that level of activity for a minute or so. Even after a brief rest, I felt ready to go again.

I had executed acrobatics I'd only seen before, and my body compensated for a lack of practice with incredible balance and coordination. It was a wondrous feeling. But that feeling was dangerous, I realized.

I'd read that the power of the amulets was addictive. White Tigers had succumbed to this addiction, becoming obsessed with the euphoric feeling of invincibility and unwilling to let go. Over time, they could no longer live normally without the power coursing through them. I needed to limit my usage, no matter how tempting it was. I decided to start with a maximum of one hour a day and adjust as needed. It was an arbitrary number, but for my safety and mental health, I needed a starting point. Over time, I'd slowly extend the limit until I found a safe duration for usage.

I got up, shook out my arms and legs—more out of habit than necessity—and retraced my steps home. The amulets had one more significant drawback: the power wasn't truly mine. Anyone who wore them could obtain the power, and it could be taken away.

I frowned. I'd worked too hard to lose my golden ticket now.

I made my way home, flipping from the roof onto my window ledge and sliding back into my room. I looked at the amulets, contemplating their use. I knew I could wear two at once without effect, but I'd need to remove one to stop the transformation.

I decided to keep the bracelets on. They'd be more practical in emergencies, as they were quicker to fit than the necklace. Plus, the necklace was a bit flashy and could draw unwanted attention if I wore it around.

With that settled, I removed the necklace and stuffed it into the pocket of my baseball jacket—the one I wore most places, including school.

Once the amulet was removed, I gradually felt the White Tiger's power fade until I was just Jordan again.

Exhausted from the stealth operation of the past few days, I felt a sense of relief. I ate the cold curry on my desk and drifted off to sleep.