-(Past || When the gang is left alone while Nathan goes to Ward after he escapes from Underworld; Location: Black T-shirt Gang's headquarters)-
Talent
In this world where a sudden change on the Frontlines could mean the end of humanity, every human wished to be talented.
Jonathan, the eldest son and the next heir of the black T-shirt gang was also the same.
Like the billions, he also wished for Talent, for it was necessary to acquire Strength.
But ultimately he was one of those billions, an average talent.
As he came to terms with his own mediocrity, he continued praying. Not for himself, but for his brother.
'Please give him a mediocre talent.'
He didn't wish for Miller's success, but for his fall. Yet fate was fickle. His wish was denied once again.
Bam-
"Bro, did you see 'SIS'? I can't find her."
Flinging the doors open, Miller called out to him, clenching his jaws as he spat the word 'Sis'.
"…We haven't seen her since the day you left."
"Got'cha!"
Miller left without as much as a second look. Jonathan was thankful for that because he didn't think he could control his expression if he saw Miller right now.
Talent
A Monstrous Talent
His brother was blessed with unparalleled talent. It wasn't something that could be suppressed, even though he tried to do so.
He could vividly remember the day when Miller awakened as a child at a very young age. For humans, the earlier they awaken, the higher their talent and potential limit.
Of course, Miller didn't have a better-than-average talent and potential limit, but his true worth lay somewhere else.
It was his stigma.
Jonathan couldn't help but wish…
If only Miller wasn't a prodigy.
*
"Bro, help me!"
Bam-
Throwing the doors open, Miller entered the room for the umpteenth time today.
Acting reservedly, Jonathan helped him, again, and sent Miller away.
"Did something bad happen, bro?"
Not leaving immediately, Miller questioned with a serious face. He had not lived long with Jonathan, but he could tell that something was burdening his brother.
Unable to see him in the eyes, Jonathan dug his head deeper into the document. "It's nothing, just some minor problems with our business, you can leave."
"Y'know you suck at lying?" Grinning, Miller stood behind his brother and massaged his shoulders. He thought that maybe his brother had been under the stress because of Chloe. "You start scratching your forefinger with your right thumb every time you lie."
Proudly disclosing the secret, Miller puffed his chest. "That was how I could tell in childhood when you had permission to meet me and when you sneaked out to meet me."
Jonathan couldn't help but smile. His brother had grown, yet he never changed, showering him with unbridled affection.
Tap-
A drop of tear slid down Jonathan's cheek.
"I-it's nothing. Something went into my eyes." He hurriedly denied it.
"I knew it! It's that bitch, right!? She must've done something when I wasn't here!" Anger and concern clouded Miller's mind.
He stormed away to search for Chloe. "Don't worry, if I ask for that bat's help, I can find her! I'll make her pay!"
"STOP!"
Unconsciously, Jonathan yelled at the top of his lungs. He didn't regret it though.
Chloe was strong, Miller wouldn't be able to do anything to her. But Jonathan knew his brother all too well. If he set his mind to it, he wouldn't back down even if it cost him his life.
"Only if you tell me what's going on"
As both brothers glared at each other, the first to pull away was Jonathan.
Sighing, he nodded.
| сom Talent
It wasn't something Miller lacked. And Jonathan hated that.
Because talent wasn't necessarily a blessing.
…Sometimes it was a curse.
*
'Should I tell him? …But what if he hates me?'
Jonathan shivered at those dreaded thoughts, but he steeled his heart.
'I must. If not, he might get into the same situation again.'
Of course, Jonathan had recognized the Miller at a glance at the Gladiator Championship. Regrettably, he was watching the competition from their base, or he would've fought to save his brother himself.
"I-I… lied to you about your stigma…" It was easy to say it in his mind, but when it came to it, he could barely eke out the words. "You are not weak, rather your stigma holds… enormous… potential…"
"h-huh? Does this mean…"
'I knew it.'
"You are okay with me using it!"
"Eh? Y-yeah"
Unable to understand the meaning behind the simple question, Jonathan stared at his brother's face, but suddenly…
"Buhahahah! Wait for me, you damned bat! Let's see if you can beat me again!"
Miller started laughing like a crazy scientist!
Jonathan's brain froze for a good few seconds.
"You aren't… angry with me?... Don't you hate me?"
"Why?"
"I lied to you throughout your childhood and made you believe that you shouldn't use your stigma."
"And?" Titling his head, as if he didn't understand the intent of those words, Miller asked, genuinely curious. "What about it?"
"You almost died because you didn't use your stigma! Shouldn't you be angry tha…." Jonathan's eyes widened, and he bit his lips. "…I'm sorry for shouting like that."
Miller blinked.
"Didn't you do that because you were worried about me? After all, with our background, anyone who knew about my stigma would target our brothers to take me away. And later I would be brainwashed, or something along those lines, so I don't take revenge."
It was a common trick used to 'adopt' children from slums, aka Downtown, and raise them to serve the family.
It was an adoption only in name and many forcefully took the talented younglings. After all, a powerful pawn was useless if its roots didn't belong to them.
Miller's tone as he said those words didn't falter.
Tearing, Jonathan barely managed to stop them from overflowing. He was happy, incredibly so. 'I shouldn't cry. Not in front of my little brother.'
Turning his face away, he spoke while suppressing his quivering voice.
"You aren't stupid a-anymore, I see."
"Bro, you too!? Why does everyone call me stupid!?" With a wronged expression, Miller cried tears of injustice.
Suddenly, both brothers erupted into laughter, and a whisper entered Jonathan's ears.
'You aren't smart either. Why did you think your brother, who always looked up to you, would hate you?'
'Old man'
A blurry figure vanished from the corner of the room, and Jonathan shook his head.
It didn't look like that creepy habit of his father of watching people while hiding was going to stop anytime soon.
"Y'know and then bos-err Cap, moved so fast that…"
Looking at his brother, who was happily talking about his past days, Jonathan held complicated emotions.
On one hand, he didn't trust Nathan, especially after how brutally Miller was beaten in the tournament. Even if Nathan saved him at the last moment, he believed that Nathan must've been the reason Miller didn't surrender.
But on the other hand, watching his brother enthusiastically talk about Nathan as if they were decade-old friends, he understood. Miller wouldn't follow his words if he told him to stay away, or better yet, run away from here.
'I was going to tell me to run away if Nathan was threatening him, but maybe I was being paranoid.'
Nevertheless, he decided to keep an eye on Nathan.
"Err bro?"
"Yeah?"
A sweating and panicking Miller stopped Jonathan's train of thought.
"I just remembered… Cap told me to keep those things a secret. Could you not tell anyone what I told you?"
"Haaah…"
Jonathan covered his face with both hands.
Was it alright to trust his brother?
He wouldn't be tricked by a scammer, right? RIGHT!?
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