[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel":3,"chapter-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-818":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","My Life as a Mental Mentor in Marvel",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2323386,4544,"Chapter 818: The Red Hood (9)","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-818",818,"\u003Cp>With a loud “boom,” the children in the truck bed all jumped—some covered their ears and asked, “Was that thunder? But why is the ground shaking too?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What ground? Aren’t you standing on the truck?” someone pointed out; a slightly older child stomped his foot on the floor and said, “Looks like the vehicle just started…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Started? But this truck was broken, how could it start?” someone asked; meanwhile, the six-fingered girl leader, arranging blankets nearby, said, “Quiet down. If there’s nothing wrong, go back to sleep. Move inward, make room—don’t fill the whole truck.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing her pale face, no one dared speak. After a moment, Bruce climbed aboard and said, “I just fixed the truck. Maybe we can drive around and find another place soon.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The children stared at him wide-eyed; some seemed to understand, but they didn’t discuss it—instead they asked Bruce, “How’s Jason? Is he okay?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He’s fine. No fever, no infection, recovering well.” Bruce stepped back down, turned, and added, “I need to check on him. When the truck starts moving, don’t be startled—hold on tight.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After he left, the cabin fell silent. A few older children gathered together; the six-fingered girl leader spoke: “I knew Jason would do this—he wants to drive out and save people…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One Black boy said, “If I ever run into Vise, I won’t save him—I’ll kick him straight into the mud!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another girl snorted, “We’re always the ones showing mercy. Why are those useless bastards so helpless? They’ve never lifted a finger to save us!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The six-fingered girl leader tucked her reddish-brown hair behind her ear and said, “What can you do? Jason’s just that strong. And we’ve been luckier than them—don’t forget last winter’s snowstorm. If those gangs hadn’t pooled their firewood, a lot of us would’ve frozen to death.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Only because of last time!” a boy grumbled, pouting. “It’s rare they’d even give up firewood. Fine—let the boss save them. If we’re too few, the gangs on top will squeeze us harder.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Watch out—the kids who just arrived this year might cause trouble. Calm them down,” the girl leader instructed. “If anyone cries, stop them. Other gangs have kids too—if they all start wailing, we’re done for.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Don’t worry,” said a slender girl. “When I came back today, I brought some candy. Best way to quiet them—I’ll take three with Tina, you take the rest. If they won’t calm down, just stuff candy in their mouths.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Be careful—don’t let kids from other gangs see it. If they know we’ve got something good, they’ll try to steal it…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The children chattered for a while, then settled into place. They’d never spoken to Jason—but they all understood his meaning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In truth, they thought differently from Jason. They didn’t consider supply and demand—but they all knew: if the number of children shrank, it would be bad for everyone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before disasters or violence that could cost them many lives, people of the same class tended to unite to protect their own interests—setting aside old grudges to ensure their group’s strength. Otherwise, if their class weakened, they’d all suffer together.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a very simple truth. Bruce understood it easily—but he hadn’t expected these children, barely over ten, to grasp it too—and to carry it out with such resolve.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the rain grew heavier, its pounding on the buildings no longer sounded like a lullaby—it was more like war drums. On such a stormy night, no one could sleep. The noise made it impossible to calm the mind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Listening to it, Bruce set down his pen in his study. He rose, shut the window tighter to keep out the damp. In that moment of shifting thought, inspiration struck—he knew how to describe the next scene.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“When lightning split the sky, I was driving a truck down a pitch-black street. Tires splashed through puddles; raindrops flung by the wind flew through the windows. I covered Jason’s face with my coat—he couldn’t take any more rain…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Suddenly, I saw lights ahead—a cluster of small figures waved from the roadside. Without thinking, I slammed the brakes. Behind me, the truck bed erupted in screams—I knew someone had fallen…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But the noise ahead grew louder—group after group of children charged toward me, like a school of fish fleeing a predator, darting through wind and waves…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The rain-slicked ground mirrored the sky. I saw their flashlights flickering in their hands. If I’d come a moment later, they’d have been swallowed by darkness. But thankfully, Noah’s Ark arrived just in time…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Setting down his pen, Bruce heard a clamor beside him, drowned in the rain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hurry! Hurry! Mark! Pull him up! And him—check on the girl, her shoes are soaked—before you come in, shake the water off!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sar? What are you doing here? You bastard! Get your people to the right—make room! Who else?! Who else?! Get on fast! The rain’s getting worse!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Everyone move in! Squeeze tighter! One more squeeze! Two more haven’t boarded… Come on! Three! Two! One! Good—drive! Go!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the cab, as Bruce pressed the accelerator, Jason pulled the coat off his face. He’d just woken from sleep and asked, “How many kids did you get?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“All the kids from the nearby street gathered up—they just got on.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Smart of them,” Jason said, slowly sitting up as strength returned. “These kids aren’t stupid. Unlike those fools, they know they can count on me…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright, turn around. Head back to that wasteland. Less attention that way. Once we make it through tonight, things’ll improve…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce sighed, ready to turn the wheel—when suddenly, a beam of light flashed in his eyes. He squinted: on the opposite side of the intersection, a few tiny figures stood holding flashlights, scanning around.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce saw—they were members of another child gang. Another vehicle sped past them, splashing them with water. The smallest child shivered, hugging himself, crouching on the ground.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The rain outside came down violently, whipped by wind—each drop struck the skin like tiny shrapnel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such heavy rain drained body heat rapidly. Those children by the intersection had clearly been driven from their basement by floodwater, stranded helplessly on the roadside. If this continued, they’d die.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce’s hand froze on the steering wheel—then turned the opposite way. Jason, lying on the seat, felt the vehicle change direction. He asked, “What are you doing? Where are you going?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“There are a few kids on the next street. I’m picking them up—then we’ll head back,” Bruce replied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No! Don’t!” Jason tried to sit up. “That street isn’t ours. We don’t know that gang. They won’t let us in!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I can’t just watch them freeze to death,” Bruce said. As he spoke the word “freeze,” his voice trembled—he clearly remembered something.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You idiot! Don’t you know what this will cost?!” Jason clenched his fists. “You think you’re saving these kids? You’re dooming us all.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sighed. “You don’t understand. Gotham gangs have rules. You don’t invade another’s territory. Slipping in quietly? Fine. But driving a truck straight through? We’re dead.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce paused a moment—then turned decisively. He stuck his arm out the window and shouted, “Get in!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All the children froze—then, seeing something that could shield them from the rain, they rushed forward and piled on.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce ignored the shouting behind him. He knew the truck had already left the Tail Gang’s territory. His mind raced—he had to find a way out for these children before trouble arrived.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But trouble came faster than he expected. A screech—the brakes screamed. Jason cried out in pain; the jolt had struck his wound. Bruce himself slumped over the steering wheel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The car ahead was much smaller than the truck—but it disgorged many armed gang members. They shouted at the truck: “Who the hell are you?! What are you doing here?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Facing their dark gun muzzles, Bruce gripped the wheel. Jason whispered, “Raise your hands. Open the door. Let them search.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“They’ll find you,” Bruce said slowly, leaning back. “They’ll throw you out.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Better than being shot full of holes!” Jason raised his voice. “Open the door—they’re about to fire!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bruce slammed his fist on the wheel, took a deep breath, then opened the door.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two gang members approached, saw a child in the passenger seat, sneered, grabbed Jason’s shoulders, and tried to drag him out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From behind, other gang members shouted: “Boss! This whole truck is full of kids! They’re probably from the next street’s gang!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Kids? How do they have a truck?! Get them off!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jason cried out in pain—but didn’t resist. Bruce saw blood seeping along the edge of his coat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The smell of blood filled the cramped cab. Bruce’s fingers trembled—just as they had when he wrote this passage, gripping his pen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That smell stirred me. I felt a dark emotion cover my heart. I sensed anger—but different from the anger I’d known before…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I needed an outlet for this emotion. I knew—I had to find one…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So I pressed the accelerator.”\u003C\u002Fp>",1489,"2026-06-20T16:39:22.658Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","647707d3230814ae86c7d09554d73e8c339c05cadf9ec778f92d2b0e0dc2127c","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-819","my-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-chapter-817",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fmy-life-as-a-mental-mentor-in-marvel-cover.jpg"]