C2 Ability User!

In the restroom, Yang Chen splashed his face with cold water and caught his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks were tinged with a healthy glow, prompting a rare smile to spread across his face. It wasn't the most charming of smiles, but it was genuine.

Yang Chen's life hadn't been easy. An orphan raised in an institution, he developed a reserved personality and had recently been scraping by through scavenging. Social interactions were few and far between, leaving him somewhat reclusive. Laughter seldom graced his features.

As he tightened his grip, a subtle but potent energy pulsed through his fists, filling him with a comforting sense of security. The power to shape his destiny was now literally in his hands, a stark contrast to his previous life, where he had to rely on sheer luck to find anything of value just to survive. Back then, it was as if the mercy of the gods was the only thing keeping him alive.

But times had changed. As an Ability User, Yang Chen had seized control of his future. In the hierarchy of humanity, Ability Users were held in high esteem. Although Yang Chen was unsure of his exact status among them, he was certain of one thing: even the weakest Ability User stood above a civil servant in rank.

Rummaging through his pocket, he pulled out a few crumpled bills, totaling exactly eleven yuan. With a push of the door, he stepped out, intent on treating himself to a decent meal. Now that he was an Ability User, he felt he deserved at least that much. Eleven yuan was more than enough for a satisfying meal.

Descending the stairs, he made a beeline for Lau's Noodle Bistro across the street. The modest establishment was always bustling, with tables crowding the entrance as if bracing for an onslaught of patrons. A massive iron pot commanded attention at the doorway, where an elderly man tirelessly cooked noodles in boiling water.

The aroma of freshly cooked noodles, mingled with spices, wafted through the air, triggering Yang Chen's hunger.

"Gurgle~"

His stomach audibly agreed. Striding into the noodle house, Yang Chen's shabby appearance drew disapproving looks from the other customers, who subtly edged away as if bad fortune clung to him. Unfazed by their reactions, he approached the old man and requested in a soft voice, "Three taels of plain noodles, light on the chili, please." He then carefully laid the eleven yuan on the counter.

The old man acknowledged with a nod, and Yang Chen settled into a quiet corner, ignoring the surrounding sneers as if he were invisible.

After some time, the old man delivered a bowl so large it dwarfed Yang Chen's face, the steam carrying the rich scent of noodles and glistening red oil. The sight of the generous beef slices floating atop stirred something within him, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words. Perhaps this old man was the only person who had ever truly seen him.

"Eat up. It won't taste as good once it's cold," the old man advised before returning to his post at the stove.

Yang Chen took a deep breath, picked up his chopsticks, and began to eat heartily. A single tear mingled with the broth, unnoticed as he savored each bite. In no time, the bowl was empty, the noodles and soup devoured.

As he prepared to leave, a brash voice cut through the air, "Hey Boss, why's there a fly in my noodles?"

Turning, Yang Chen spotted a young man with fiery red hair, standing with a cocky tilt to his head, brandishing a dead fly at the old man.

The old man glanced at Red Hair and replied with measured calm, "How about we call this bowl on the house today?"

"You think I'm someone who'd take advantage of that? If I get sick, you'll be compensating me!" Red Hair retorted, his disdain clear as he propped his foot on the table.

The other patrons, witnessing the scene, quickly paid and slipped away, eager to avoid trouble.

The old man, unfazed by Red Hair's antics, continued his work, treating him as if he were invisible. He knew his establishment was modest but immaculate; flies were not part of the menu.

Feeling ignored, Red Hair's temper flared. "Do you have any idea who I am? I'm an Ability User from No.98!"

The old man paused briefly, then carried on with his tasks. "Since when did No.98 start oppressing the common folk?"

No.98 is a prominent organization for ability users in Hua Xia. It has successfully gathered all of Hua Xia's ability users, ensuring they are either officially documented or enlisted as members of No.98.

Interestingly, several of Hua Xia's Grandmasters are affiliated with No.98!

This fact isn't exactly a well-kept secret in Hua Xia anymore. Given the considerable time that has passed since the resurgence of spiritual energy, it's become appropriate for the general public to be clued in on such matters.

Yang Chen's expression shifted subtly. Wasn't No.98 precisely what he was searching for?

Joining No.98 promised not only substantial rewards but also served as a badge of identity. In the presence of No.98, even the most affluent hereditary families, wielding immense wealth, had no choice but to bow their heads.

Naturally, this only held true if you possessed a certain level of stature within No.98.

Take Red Hair, for instance; he's insignificant when compared to those financial magnates!

Yet, even a regular member of No.98 is not someone the average person can easily provoke.

The reality is that the power of ordinary individuals pales in comparison to that of ability users.

And capitalizing on his status as an ability user to make a quick buck was exactly Red Hair's scheme!

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