Chapter 773

After the typhoon, the weather improved. The thick clouds that had been shrouding Cat Getan finally dispersed somewhat, and after a night of howling winds and torrential rain, the air felt refreshingly crisp.

Standing by the window, Jason stretched his back and rolled his neck, then called out to Little Slick, who was still fast asleep in bed. Little Slick got up, and while washing his face, asked, "Are you going to breakfast today?"

"Of course, the school cafeteria is actually pretty good." Jason patted his chest and said, "I'm in a growth spurt; I need to eat more."

"I'm not going today. I still don't quite grasp that transmission structure the teacher talked about yesterday. I'm going to head over early to ask him about it."

Little Slick grabbed his books and headed for the door. Jason called out to him, "Wait, let me bring you something. Do you want a burger or a breakfast wrap?"

"Get me a wrap, but no sauce—it's too salty." Little Slick pushed the door open and left. Jason shook his head behind him and muttered, "What a weirdo, and he has weird taste, too."

Suddenly, he clutched his forehead and said, "Damn it, transmission structure... what was it the teacher emphasized yesterday?"

Realizing he still had time, Jason sat on his bed and talked to himself, "Sometimes, I really envy him for finding something he likes to do."

He put his hands behind his head, leaned back against the pillow, and said, "... What do I like? Fixing cars? But I only stole tires to sell for money; do I really like tinkering with those mechanical parts?"

Jason shook his head, seemingly unable to figure it out. Suddenly, he leaped up, stretched his body again, and said, "Jason, you don't have the luxury of sitting around counting money without doing anything. Let's go."

Soon, Jason arrived at the cafeteria. Because the Vocational College started classes earlier than the main campus, most of the students eating there were from the technical program.

They all knew the two young kids who had recently joined, and Jason waved and greeted them.

Jason was quite popular; he could get along with anyone, a skill honed by his time scraping by in the gutters of Cat Getan.

You see, in a place like Cat Getan, being the leader of a neighborhood kid gang required more than just intelligence and courage—it required high emotional intelligence.

In a sense, kids were harder to manage than adults; they made more mistakes and required more energy to smooth over their troubles without making the other kids feel it was unfair.

The Rolling Tail Gang, which Jason led, was famous throughout the entire street precisely because their leader was more capable than the others, always able to resolve various unimaginable troubles and protect the safety and interests of his gang members.

Little Slick stealing the Batmobile's tires was for the sake of his craft, but Jason wasn't like that—he only did it to make money to subsidize the gang, and he only helped Little Slick later out of loyalty.

He didn't actually have much interest in coming to school to learn auto repair.

Carrying his food, Jason looked for a quiet place to eat, and that was when he saw a familiar figure in the corner of the cafeteria: Schiller.

Normally, the faculty dining hall and the student cafeteria were separate, but since the main campus cafeteria hadn't opened yet and the cooks hadn't arrived, Schiller had been eating in the student cafeteria for the past few days.

No students sat near Schiller, while the diagonal corner of the room was packed. Many students feared the professor, worried he might find them displeasing and freeze them with his umbrella.

Jason, however, had a unique mindset. He thought being frozen sounded like fun, so he wasn't afraid of Schiller at all. He walked over happily with his tray and asked, "Professor Schiller, can I sit here and eat?"

Schiller looked up at him and said, "Of course. What did you get? A burger? Why is there a wrap, too?"

"Oh, that's for Little Slick," Jason shrugged, setting his tray down. "He said he didn't understand a transmission structure yesterday, so he's already in the classroom to ask the teacher."

"He's a good student; he's well-suited for this trade," Schiller nodded. "In the future, he'll become an excellent automotive engineer."

"Really? You think so, too?" Jason took a bite of his burger after unwrapping it and asked, "What about me? What do you think I'll do in the future?"

Schiller smiled and said, "That's a question for yourself. What do you want to do?"

Jason sighed. Schiller found it interesting because Jason was clearly just a kid, yet he always liked to put on an adult expression, looking both serious and comical.

"It's precisely because I don't know what I want to do that I want to ask others. Little Slick says he wants to invent cars with me, but honestly, I don't have any extra interest in cars. I only pried off those Batmobile tires to sell them for a high price."

"Are you very eager to make money?" Schiller asked.

Jason shook his head and said, "I don't actually need that much money, but the Rolling Tail Gang has many kids who can't go out to work, so I have to earn as much as I can to subsidize the gang."

"But it's better now," Jason smiled. "The older kids can sell newspapers, cigarettes, or deliver things, and the younger ones can go to the daycare center. It doesn't charge money and even provides a meal. If not for that, I wouldn't be able to leave; those little devils would definitely cause trouble if no one watched them."

Seeing him put on that adult-like look of worry again, Schiller found it quite amusing. He asked, "So, are you planning to lead the gang?"

Jason hesitated and said, "I don't know what counts as leading a gang. Is it developing a gang into the strongest one? But, I..."

Jason paused, as if thinking, and then said, "I don't know if what gangs do is right. Everyone does it, so I have to do it too, but I don't like robbery, and I want to avoid shootouts as much as possible..."

"I don't know if I have the courage to send the kids I grew up with in the Rolling Tail Gang to the front lines of a shootout, letting them get hurt and bleed just to earn money for me."

Schiller looked at him with surprise—not because of the viewpoint, but because Jason's ability to express himself far exceeded what was expected for his age. He could clearly articulate certain problems that should have been confusing at his age.

Many people felt certain emotions but didn't know where they came from, and many others knew where they came from but couldn't express them clearly through language. Some had the ability to express their emotions clearly but were too shy to speak up.

The process from feeling to expressing required crossing many hurdles, usually through the accumulation of experience and understanding of the world. But some people were born with a special talent for it.

They were more sensitive to their own and others' emotions and could express those observations with clear logic. The process from feeling to expressing was smooth, without obstacles—it was actually a quite special ability.

Schiller cut a small piece of steak, put it in his mouth, and looked at Jason. "In an environment where everyone refuses to do good, are you willing to go against the current and be the special one?"

"What should be used to distinguish between good and bad?" Jason asked back. "I don't want the kids in my gang to starve, so I steal tires to sell. I've read in the newspapers that stealing is wrong, but I can't just watch the kids in the Rolling Tail Gang go hungry."

"They go hungry because their parents don't raise them, and their parents don't raise them because they either died in gang shootouts or were oppressed by gangs and had no time to care for them."

"So, when I steal tires from gang members, I'm just demanding compensation for raising the kids. I don't think that's doing something bad."

Schiller stared at Jason and said, "What about stealing the Batmobile's tires? You know full well that Batman is a vigilante who stops crime."

"That's because he's rich," Jason said very bluntly. "Losing one tire is a loss that probably wouldn't even cover one of his meals, but if that tire could be sold, the Rolling Tail Gang wouldn't have to worry about food for two months."

"Do you think rich people deserve to be stolen from? Or, in other words, do you think crimes against the rich should be excused?"

"I don't know," Jason replied. He said, "I often wonder, where does money actually come from?"

"I'm very curious. The newspapers say money is printed by banks, so why can't banks print more so everyone has money?"

"Why is it that when rich people are already so rich, they aren't willing to pay their employees more?"

"In their hearts, they must know that for them, a piece of jewelry or a sculpture that just sits there looking pretty could let poor people and children eat their fill for months. Are they not willing to give this money because they don't see it, or because they don't care?"

Schiller smiled at him and asked, "If you were a rich person, would you be willing to give your money to the poor?"

"I am precisely feeling confused about this," Jason shook his head. "When I'm a poor person, I hope those rich fat cats could do a little more. But when I imagine myself as a rich person, what I think about is buying a big house I like or going on an adventure in the West. Is it really normal for me to think like this?"

Jason took another bite of his burger and said, "The newspapers never talk about this, and the books Little Slick shows me don't tell me either. They only talk about how motors work."

"But, does making motors run faster really stop everyone from going hungry?"

"Do you want everyone to stop going hungry?" Schiller asked.

"Of course!" Jason raised his voice, staring at Schiller. "There's no one in this world who wouldn't think that, right? Everyone would think, if only everyone didn't go hungry and everyone could afford what they liked, wouldn't that be great? Isn't that right?"

Schiller asked again, "Do you think that to achieve this, one should stop bad things, or promote good things?"

"Can't we do both?" Jason shrugged and said, "Anyway, it's all a fantasy. I think it's entirely possible to do both. On one hand, stop criminals from committing crimes; on the other, reward those who do good so they'll do more good."

"How do you think we should stop crime?" Schiller asked again.

"I don't know, but I only know that throwing all the criminals who have already committed crimes into prison doesn't seem to work."

Jason pursed his lips and said, "Cat Getan has been catching them for so many years, yet there are still criminals. Before, you could say the police weren't working hard, but ever since that Sheriff Gordon arrived, the police have been quite efficient, yet Cat Getan is still in this state."

After finishing his burger, Jason rested his chin on one hand and said, "I don't know why, but my intuition tells me that forbidding bad things and encouraging good things are actually the same thing, but I don't know what that is."

Schiller's eyes grew brighter and brighter, but Jason looked at the clock on the wall and said, "Oh, damn it, it's almost time for class. I have to go study automotive transmission systems again..."

"I'm leaving first, Professor. Let's talk another day."

"Wait!" Schiller called out to him. "I really like the sentence you just said..."

"What?" Jason asked, a bit confused.

"'Making motors run faster won't stop everyone from going hungry, at least not in the short term.'"

"Then what can?" Jason asked instinctively.

Schiller revealed a smile and looked at him.

"If you want to know the answer, I suggest you change your major."

"Change majors? Change to what?"

"Psychology."