Catching a cab in New York usually meant waving one down on the street, and the prices were fucking ridiculous.
Luckily Ivan was in the city center, so plenty of taxis were around. In the more remote areas you could stand there for half an hour without seeing one. That was one of the main reasons most American families ended up buying their own cars.
"Hey buddy, you heading to Sapphire Strip Club?" An orange-yellow taxi pulled up in front of Ivan. The driver looked like a middle-aged man.
"No, take me to this address."
Ivan showed the driver the location on his phone.
"OK, we'll be there in half an hour." The driver clearly knew New York like the back of his hand.
"So, heading out after a long day of work? Your accent sounds a little French." the driver asked as soon as Ivan got in.
"Yeah. My family moved to the States more than ten years ago."
"Damn, you remind me of some Frenchman I once picked up, always thinking of themself as superior to us... ehm.. You seem fine tho." Chatty drivers were a universal thing, and this guy was no exception.
The driver kept talking while weaving through traffic. Ivan didn't mind.
"Wow, you actually work for Vought? My son is obsessed with Homelander. The guy's his idol. Hey, you got Homelander's autograph? I'll pay two hundred bucks for it."
Ivan noticed a bunch of supe stickers all over the car. Vought's marketing was seriously everywhere. In New York you could barely turn around without seeing a superhero on a billboard, a soda can, or some random product. They were inescapable.
"I don't have Homelander's autograph, but I do have a ticket to one of his fan meet-and-greets."
The ticket was an internal employee perk, usually for relatives' kids. Ivan had no use for it, so he pulled it out and handed it to the driver. The man tried to pay, but Ivan waved him off.
He got these tickets every few days anyway. Especially the Homelander ones. There were always plenty.
Gotta admit, Homelander treated his fans decently. As long as he was in a good mood. The guy clearly loved being worshipped.
"And you, my friend, you are the real hero," the driver said, driving with one hand and imitating Homelander's catchphrase.
When Ivan got out, the driver refused to take any fare and instead gave him his phone number. "Just call me next time you need a ride."
...
The sword master was an old man with a graying beard. His dojo had a layout similar to a taekwondo studio, clean and tidy inside.
After changing into his training gear, Ivan joined the dozen or so other students waiting for the sword master Johnson to arrive.
The next second, excited gasps erupted from the students around him.
"Queen Maeve!"
A bunch of them were hardcore Maeve fans, so the moment she walked into the dojo they lost their shit. Some even straight-up screamed. Ivan, on the other hand, stayed completely chill.
The tall, statuesque Queen Maeve smiled and happily posed for photos with the fans. Clearly she was used to handling these small crowds.
"Master Johnson used to be my teacher, so I came by specially to visit him," Maeve explained.
The cameras behind her kept clicking nonstop.
It wasn't hard to see this was all a planned marketing stunt. Vought owned a big chunk of this dojo anyway.
"Maeve, the noisy world has crushed that heart of yours that once wanted to keep getting stronger. You disappoint me," Master Johnson said.
The old man was short but stood ramrod straight. Just standing there gave off a crazy strong sense of pressure.
His words made the smile freeze on Maeve's face. She awkwardly ran a hand through her auburn hair.
The staff behind her quickly got the hint and hustled everyone out of the dojo.
Ivan vaguely remembered that Maeve wasn't actually a bad person. She had just picked up some shitty habits from hanging around the other supes for too long.
"Let me see how much of the swordsmanship I taught you is still left," Master Johnson said, tossing his wooden practice sword to Maeve.
She caught it and immediately thrust at the rubber training dummy.
The tough rubber dummy got pierced straight through. The raw power made Ivan's eyes burn with envy.
"You missed the heart by half an inch. The only reason you pierced the dummy is brute force. Your control over your own strength is worse than a student who has been here less than a month," Johnson scolded without mercy.
"How is that possible?" Maeve frowned hard, refusing to believe any newbie with one month of training could be better than her.
Oh shit.
The second Master Johnson finished speaking, Ivan — who had been trying his best to stay invisible — felt a sinking feeling.
Sure enough, Johnson's sharp hawk-like eyes scanned the crowd and locked straight onto him.
"Ivan, come demonstrate your sword work."
Toward his favorite student, Master Johnson's attitude was noticeably warmer, even his expression softened.
No choice. Ivan stepped out from the group with a stiff face.
"Have I seen you somewhere before?" Maeve asked, staring at the young guy in front of her. He looked familiar, like she had run into him once.
"A month ago, in that short episode you were filming. I played one of the robbers."
"Oh, right." Even after Ivan said that, Maeve still drew a blank.
From the confused look in Queen Maeve's eyes, Ivan knew she had already forgotten who he was.
He picked up the wooden sword, stepped onto the soft mat, flicked a quick sword flourish, then unleashed several slashes and thrusts at the dummy. His movements were so fast most people barely caught anything except a few streaks of motion hanging in the air.
Only Maeve, with her superhuman dynamic vision, could see every single action clearly.
"Forehead, throat, heart. All fatal strikes. Perfect control over power," Maeve muttered, her expression turning serious.
"Not bad. Fast, clean, no wasted motion. The only thing missing now is real combat experience," Master Johnson said with a satisfied nod.
Truth be told, he felt the current Ivan reminded him of Maeve from a few years ago. The sword talent was just as shocking. If anything, Ivan's moves carried even more killing intent and were better suited for actual fighting.
"Your sword work is really good."
Maeve extended her left hand toward Ivan. "Interested in joining the superhero tryouts?"
Ivan never expected Maeve to throw him that kind of offer.
His scalp instantly went numb. His mind flashed to someone introducing him to Homelander: "His sword is really fast," only for Homelander to blast him with laser eyes and say, "I believe nothing is faster than lasers."
"Ahaha.. Thank you... But I don't have any plans for that right now," Ivan replied quickly, turning her down.