Still, if a person has an innate ability, it's worth training and developing. That's exactly what Richard thought.
There are several options for training supernatural abilities.
The first is to continue to do it secretly. But there's a serious downside: everything secret sooner or later becomes known. It's a good thing if the father reveals the secret, but even then, it's not a given, since it's impossible to predict his reaction. And what if one of the servants catches him? Problems are inevitable.
The second option is to tell his father everything. But again, no one can say how Gerald will react. What if he's afraid of his own son? After all, he kicked his wife out of the house, even though she wasn't the best person.
Richie leaned most toward the third option. If you want to hide something well, do it in plain sight. This principle had once been observed by a transmigrator in an old detective holofilm.
Finally, after another breakfast in Gerald's company, Richard turned to him:
- Dad, I realized one thing.
- Yes, Richie?
Gerald remained dry and cold, but did not take his attentive gaze off his son.
- Dad, I realized that every person needs rest and a hobby, which, when done, will help him relax his soul.
"I'm glad, Richie, that you came to this idea at such an early age. For example, my hobbies include hunting, shooting, and fishing. I understand that you, too, would like to join my hunting club?"
"Maybe later," Richard answered tactfully. "Actually, I'd like to try my hand at being a magician." Noticing his father's puzzled look, the boy amended: "More precisely, I just want to learn some magic tricks so I can impress my friends."
"Hmm..." Gerald's lips curled slightly, hinting at a smile. "A rather fine hobby, worthy of an aristocrat, unless you, Richie, plan to make a living from it, performing for the amusement of the public like some kind of buffoon."
"No, no, Dad," Richard shook his head. "So you approve?"
"Of course, Richie," the cold, feigned indifference vanished from the elder Rich's face. He smiled warmly and stroked the boy's head. "You're free to choose your hobby. Or, Richie, would you like to request something? Would you like to hire a magician to teach you some tricks?"
"Um..." Richie said thoughtfully. "If only one lesson. Maybe we could go to the circus, and then I could ask a magician for a master class?"
- Circus?!
Gerald looked at the child as if he'd figured out his plan. He wondered if his son had slyly wanted to go to the circus with his father, but for some reason he'd decided not to say so directly.
- Of course, Richie, we'll go to the circus. And the magician... Mmm... We'll think of something.
That same day, Mr. Rich Sr. postponed his trip to the hunting club, canceled his son's classes, giving him an extra day off, and went to the circus with Richie.
The journey was long, as it involved going to London, but Richard bore the hardships with fortitude.
The boy remembered that day for a long time. First, the transmigrator had the chance to see a live circus performance for the first time in his life. In his world, animal rights activists had long since banned the use of animals for entertainment. For example, only large, free-range zoos remained-they weren't caged animals, but people. Circuses, as they existed in this world, were extinct. No, the name was the same, but the essence was different. No animals could be seen in the arena. Acrobats worked with anti-gravity harnesses, which made them less interesting to watch, since it was 100% certain that nothing would happen if they fell, so the thrill was lost. Only clowns and magicians remained the same, but their jokes were extremely tolerant and carefully calibrated; there wasn't the same freedom as in a circus of the late 1980s. In the transmigrator's past world, it was impossible to imagine a clown calling a spectator into the arena and making fun of them, as the spectator might feel insulted and sue the circus.
Secondly, Richie managed to talk to a magician in his father's presence and not only persuaded him to demonstrate a trick but also talked him into selling his props. The magician, of course, charged a hefty price. He also slipped the boy a rather battered set of props for simple magic tricks. Apparently, the magician had used many similar sets over the years and was happy to get rid of the junk. In his joy, he gave Richard several tattered books detailing various magic tricks. Naturally, such books could have been found for sale, but Richie was more pleased with these copies. After all, any mutant ability could be attributed to a secret trick the magician had suddenly discovered written within the pages of a book.
From that day on, Richard never parted with a coin and a set of cards. He would deliberately perform magic tricks for his father, John, and the servants, openly practicing his supernatural abilities. For example, he would make a coin disappear and reappear, or levitate a playing card. Adults would watch the young Rich's innocent hobby with smiles on their faces, never even suspecting that all his tricks were performed with the aid of supernatural powers.
Richard was happy because now he could train openly and come up with new ways to use his newly discovered powers.
The only grief the transmigrator had was the need to study, just like any schoolchild of his physical age.