AutumnXd
patreon
CHAPTER 32
🕑 Added 2025-06-23 15:57:02 +0000 UTCThe SWAT team moved like ghosts through the eerily silent hallways of Midtown High. They swept the first classroom, finding it empty. In the second, they found a terrified teacher huddled with a group of freshmen under their desks.
"It's okay," the team leader said, lowering his rifle. "We're the police. We're here to rescue you." He quickly got the story: a single gunshot, followed by screams and the sound of a panicked stampede. They continued cautiously toward the eleventh-grade teaching building.
When they arrived, the scene they found was so bizarre it defied all tactical training. There was no active shooter, no hostages. Instead, the corridor was filled with students talking in casual, twos-and-threes. In the center of the hallway, a group of them were pointing and laughing at a large, bruised and battered man lying unconscious on the floor.
A trap? A student prank? The thoughts flashed through the team leader's mind as he hesitated behind a corner wall. His team crept closer, listening to the conversations.
"That gangster totally freaked out when he pulled the gun," one student was saying. "Good thing Aidan was here."
"Yeah, but we probably shouldn't have beaten him unconscious," another replied with a shrug.
"Why not? I got a few good kicks in," a third chimed in. "I hate it when people point guns at me."
The police officers exchanged bewildered looks. They slowly emerged from their cover, their presence finally silencing the chatter.
"Alright kids," the team leader said, his gun still held at a low ready. "Are you all okay?"
"We are now!" Leo said, grabbing the half-dead Bryce by his uniform collar and hauling him up. "You guys finally showed up. This one yours? He threatened us with a gun."
The officer looked at the man's blood-stained uniform and his face went pale. It was Bryce, the new transfer to their precinct. He picked up his pager, his voice tense. "This is Sergeant Miller. I have a situation at Midtown High. I need the Chief here. Now."
By the time Police Chief Kingsley arrived, his face was a grim mask. He already had the report from school security: only one armed individual had entered the school today, and it was one of his own officers, Bryce. He was walking into a career-ending nightmare. The first thing he saw was Bryce, lying on a gurney, being attended to by paramedics.
"FK," he cursed under his breath. If this was a normal shooting, a civilian they had to take down, there would be a process. But an officer, firing his weapon in a school, subdued by the students themselves? The media would crucify them.
At that moment, Principal Angus hurried over, his face etched with worry. "Aidan! I heard the gangsters were caught. Are any students injured?" he asked, going directly to Aidan.
The Chief’s heart sank further. He was about to step forward and attempt to take control of the narrative when Aidan spoke first, his voice clear and calm.
"No students were injured, Principal," Aidan said, his tone perfectly reasonable. "The man was wearing a police uniform to trick his way into the school, but when he drew his weapon, we knew he was an impostor. I was able to stop his first shot from hitting anyone, and the other students bravely rushed forward to help me subdue him." He then glanced at the Police Chief, his eyes conveying a clear, unspoken message. "After all, Sergeant, no real police officer would ever fire on unarmed students. Isn't that right?"
Kingsley, a resolute, middle-aged man, was stunned for a second. The kid wasn't just explaining; he was handing him a golden, perfectly wrapped alibi. A way out. A wave of immense relief washed over him. He looked at this teenager with a mixture of awe and profound respect.
"That's absolutely right," Kingsley said, his voice now firm. "It was our mistake for not alerting the school about a potential impostor in the area. We are deeply sorry that the students were frightened."
"Well," the old principal said, satisfied. "Since the matter is resolved, we expect a full report when your investigation is concluded."
"You should get this 'gangster' to a hospital quickly," Aidan added helpfully. "He might die if it's too late. And if he's dead, it'll be much harder to ask him who hired him." The implied meaning hung in the air, a gift and a warning all in one.
"Of course," Kingsley said, nodding gratefully. "I will also send over the reward for the civilian arrest of a dangerous criminal." He motioned for his men to take Bryce away.
The follow-up was a masterclass in bureaucratic efficiency. Aidan and a few other students gave their statements. The police department, understanding that they had been thoroughly outmaneuvered by a teenager who had just saved them from a PR catastrophe, accepted his version of events without question. Bryce, they reasoned, had gone to the school to settle a personal score using the authority of his badge. He was a rogue cop. Since nearly a hundred students were involved in "subduing" him, pressing charges against any of them was impossible. The case was quietly closed. As for Bryce, no one seemed to care about his fate anymore.
The next day, the news cycle exploded.
"Gangster Disguised as Cop Invades Midtown High! Students, Led by Boy Genius Aidan Parker, Fight Back!" "Investigation Reveals Hired Gun Was Targeting Famed 'Real Steel' Director!" "Hero of Midtown: Aidan Parker Praised for Bravery and Resourcefulness!"
Aidan's name was once again famous in Queens, this time not just as a genius, but as a protector.
"You're in the papers again, man," Leo said excitedly, finding Aidan sitting by the football field.
"Isn't it normal by now?" Aidan replied with a melancholy sigh. "I'm starting to think being high-profile is more trouble than it's worth."
"Hey, what are you doing here today? I thought you'd be skipping," Aidan asked.
"Football game this afternoon," Leo said, patting his sturdy chest. "Gotta defend our title. Plus," he added, a wicked grin spreading across his face, "I never got to teach that fat woman Doreen her lesson."
"Good luck with the game," Aidan said. "But Doreen didn't come to class today. Erica said she transferred out."
"Lucky her," Leo snorted, his eyes on the cheerleading squad practicing on the field. "Wonder what poor school she'll terrorize next."
"Not my territory, not my problem," Aidan said with a helpless shrug. "Are you playing today? I remember you used to be pretty fierce."
"Nah, I stopped playing a long time ago," Aidan shook his head.
"Alright, well, sit here and watch me dominate!" Leo said, clapping him on the shoulder before heading to the locker room.
Aidan watched as the game began, a primal battle of colliding bodies under the bright afternoon sun. He saw Leo catch the ball, nimbly dodge a tackler, and sprint for the end zone, his touchdown met with a deafening roar from the crowd.
A few months passed in a blur of quiet work. The animated movie, Baymax, was finally finished. Aidan, leveraging his success with Real Steel, contacted Disney to act as the distributor. Thanks to his reputation and the full force of Disney's marketing machine, the film got a massive opening weekend.
And it was an instant, runaway success. Critics hailed it as a masterpiece of heart and technical brilliance. Audiences wept, laughed, and cheered. The world had fallen in love with a big, white, inflatable robot, and Aidan Parker's star had just gone supernova.
