After reading his son’s homework assignment for summer vacation, which asked students to write an essay titled “When I Grow Up, I Want to Be,” Ulysses asked his son, “What do you want to be when you grow up, Frankie?” Seven-year-old Frank’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I want to be a Deepspace Hunter!” he exclaimed, jumping up and down. “I’m gonna defeat Wanderers like this! Swish, swish, swish, swish! They’re so awesome!” Ulysses looked a little surprised and said, “Really?”
“Really!” Smiling, Ulysses pulls his son onto his lap. “I have a friend who’s a Deepspace Hunter. In fact, he’s the best of the best. Do you want to go to his place and have him teach you how to become one?”
Frankie’s eyes widened with wonder. The best of the best? What kind of hunter is he? The hunters in the cartoons were already really cool. They wore shiny outfits with super cool weapons. They traveled to every corner of the city, flying across the sky and running on walls. A single move from them was enough to defeat any enemy.
enough to amaze the whole world! If there’s a hunter better than them, doesn’t that mean he’d be cooler?
Following his dad to his old friend’s house, Frank watches as the door opens. He’s filled with longing and anticipation. Then, he’s stunned. The man inside is wearing a pair of white slippers and regular pajama pants. There is no shiny, golden outfit. He didn’t transform. He wore normal clothes, and he has a lopsided sleeping mask with stars on it. He still looks a little tired after waking up.
yawning. This person… is a Deepspace Hunter? He talks to Dad, but Frank doesn’t pay attention. He could see the question mark on the man’s face. It changed into an exclamation mark and then ellipses. After that, he kneels down to look Frank in the eye.
“Hello, my name is Xavier.”
His voice… It doesn’t seem like he would shout a catchphrase. Frank’s heart beats frantically in his chest. He grabs the hem of his father’s shirt and waits, feeling a mix of confusion and anticipation.
Frank says, “I’m Frank…” He looks at Xavier’s hair and asks, “Grandpa?” But then, looking at Xavier’s face, he’s unsure and tries, “Uncle?”
Xavier lowers his head, scratching his neck. “…Xavier is good enough.”
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