A taxi rolled to a stop in a quiet Queens cul-de-sac—the kind of place where nothing ever happens except parcel deliveries and passive-aggressive HOA meetings.
The passenger, a mid-20s guy in a black hoodie and earbuds, tapped his phone and ended the ride.
"Cool, thanks, man," he said, reaching for the door.
"Yup. No problem," I said, glancing in the rear-view mirror. "That'll be five stars and a life-changing tip."
"Already tipped in the app," he chuckled, pushing the door open.
"Ohhh—pre-tipped?" I raised my brows. "Bold move. Real trusting. Most people wait to see if I drive them into the Hudson first."
He gave a short laugh, already halfway out.
"By the way, how generous were we feelin' tonight? I like to guess tips for sport. Gimme a hint — closer to 'grateful' or 'bare minimum human decency'?" I grinned.
The passenger had one foot outside and the other was already in the air. He hesitated and pulled it back into the car.
"Two bucks?" he said—or maybe asked as he turned to me. Even he didn't sound sure.
"Hey, no pressure," I said casually. "But I dodged a delivery van, hit zero red lights, and didn't ask once what you do for a living. That's high-tier chauffeur energy."
He smiled awkwardly. "I mean… yeah. It was smooth."
"Smooth like jazz. Smooth like—minimum wage still being $15 and me living in a city where a cup of coffee costs six," I smiled back.
The passenger sighed, chuckled, and dug out his wallet. He tossed a crumpled fiver up front.
"Alright, alright. You earned it," he said with resignation.
"And just like that, faith in humanity is restored." I snatched the bill as if it were a rare, shiny Pokémon card. "You're now officially better than 82% of riders this week."
He shut the door and briskly walked away, like I might change my mind and ask for more.
Another sucker down.
Only ninety-five more to go.
I reviewed the latest notification I received from the system.
Persuasion Successful
Art of Persuasion (5/100) (+1)
One would think with my charisma leveling up from F1 to F2, I'd be out here stripping panties with a smirk and collecting hundred-dollar tips like I'm allergic to poverty.
Nope. Not even close.
Turns out F2 charisma is just F1 with deodorant.
Before, I had the social grace of a drunk raccoon in a three-piece suit. Now? I still sound like I'm trying to sell you stolen Wi-Fi in a dark alley — just with a smile that makes you second-guess whether I might stab you after the transaction instead of before.
I'm not magnetic.
I'm... marginally less threatening, maybe.
But hey—small wins. That guy tipped me extra. And it only took a 60-second guilt trip instead of the usual five-minute TED Talk.
Progress.
Sigh
Empire State University, Cafeteria, Lunch Break:
The cafeteria was still abuzz with the spider vs vulture showdown. It would likely take some time for things to calm down.
But hey—this was New York. Superpowered slugfests were basically background noise. By the time this one died down, two more costumed soap operas would pop up for everyone to gossip about.
I poked at my food while glancing around. Despite whatever chaos was happening outside, the social order in here hadn't shifted an inch.
Same cliques. Same food. Same hierarchy.
The nerds were still buried in laptops, the goths were still pretending not to care, and the popular kids were still pretending they mattered.
Of course, Liz Allen had officially changed her loyalty from the popular kids to the only nerd shunned by even the other nerds.
And as usual, Flash watched her talking and laughing with our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man with anger and possessiveness. But after having his ass kicked by the said hero not once but twice, he didn't have the guts to confront the hero again.
He turned to the only guy in his group who was not wearing a letterman jacket and whispered something to him, which suspiciously looked more like an order.
The guy nodded with a tight smile and dragged himself toward the canteen like he was marching to his execution. A minute later, he returned with chips, soda, and enough processed sugar to kill a horse. He handed them out like a well-trained butler.
The jocks and cheerleaders offered their thanks between bites, all of it dipped in sarcasm. They were laughing at him, not with him.
Flash just sat back, smug. Like watching Harry Osborn play errand boy gave him a bigger dopamine hit than the snacks ever could.
Honestly, who knew Harry would fold this hard?
With a phone call, he could ruin the lives of all these so-called popular kids.
And yet, here he was—playing a sad snack delivery boy
What would Norman think? That his heir, the next in line for the Oscorp throne, was being used as a human vending machine?
Would he disown his son, considering him a disgrace to his name and legacy?
Maybe. But whatever. Not my circus, not my mutated billionaire monkey.
Besides the musical chairs of Gwen, Liz, and MJ orbiting Peter like he had a gravity field, nothing else had changed.
Same cafeteria. Same cast.
"..."
Or it should have been.
I looked at the uninvited third member at our table.
"Why are you back again here, Felicia?" I asked with a tired sigh.
"I like it here," Felicia smirked. "What? You don't like me sitting with you?"
"No, absolutely not, Felicia. Forget about him. I absolutely like you here," Marko, the simp, interjected immediately.
They both exchanged smug glances before turning to me with matching "Do you dare oppose us?" stares.
I looked at Marko. He looked like he was ready to fight for one hundred and eight rounds with me if I dared to do so.
I looked at Felicia. She looked smug, as if enjoying her sweet revenge for leaving her cum covered on the floor yesterday.
Who needed enemies with friends like them?
There was no way I could continue my 'background character in a superhero harem novel' life anymore.
"Do whatever you want." I sighed resignedly.
"Yay," they said together as they high-fived.
Felicia looked satisfied with winning this round against me. Then she looked as if she remembered something important.
"Oh. My. Goooood," she gasped, grabbing Marko's arm like he'd just proposed. "I totally forgot to thank my prince charming for helping me with my studies!"
N-n-no, it's no big deal," Marko stammered, turning so red I was worried his face might combust.
"How can it be nothing?" Felicia said with the drama of a soap opera villainess. "Do you know that bitch, my electronics professor, made us all take a surprise test?"
"Yeah, that sucks," Marko agreed, understanding her pain.
"And guess what?" she asked, bouncing with excitement.
"What?" he asked, wide-eyed and dangerously hopeful.
"I could solve many of them. Because of my genius hero, I am confident, I will not flunk the test," Felicia said, her second hand now grabbing Marko's hand too.
"C-congrats, Felicia. It was… it was your hard work," he said, steam basically coming out of his ears.
"Aww, you're so cute," she cooed, leaning closer. "Kind, smart, funny—the whole package."
Marko.exe has encountered a critical error.
Felicia shot me a sly look, clearly waiting to see if I'd flinch, frown, or burst into flames from jealousy.
I returned her gaze with the dead-eyed stare of a man watching a kid bang on a piano at 6 a.m.
Her smirk faltered.
She stomped her foot in frustration, yanked her hands away from Marko like she just touched garbage, and huffed.
Marko, still floating in orbit, crashed back to Earth hard.
Marko blinked like he'd just been yanked out of a dream where Felicia was feeding him grapes and whispering sweet nothings.
He glanced at her, utterly baffled. A second ago, she was clutching his arm like he was a Disney prince. Now she was pouting, arms crossed, radiating 'don't talk to me' energy.
I watched him try to figure out what went wrong.
Spoiler: He failed. Spectacularly.
Eventually, he gave up and slipped right back into daydream mode, wearing a dopey smile like he was reliving the moment she touched his hand.
It pissed me off so much I smacked the back of his head.
"Hey! What was that for?" he snapped.
I answered by slurping my soup loud enough to insult generations.
He glared, grumbled, then went back to eating.
Just as I started enjoying the temporary silence, Marko—of course—decided it was time to talk again.
"Hey, Kevin, did you go to Peter's place for dinner?" Marko asked curiously.
I noticed Felicia twitch slightly. Her posture didn't change, but her ears perked up like a cat catching the sound of a tuna can opening.
I was about to deny it—until I caught her sneaking a glance at me. She immediately looked away when she realized I saw her.
I suddenly had an idea to get back to her for her previous tease.
"Of course," I said casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Why would I miss an invite from such a beautiful lady?"
Felicia's eyes widened. Now she was immediately confused about whether I had lied to Black Cat or her.
It was clear I lied to either of the two, but she couldn't conclude to whom.
She was perplexed, wondering whether I had gone to May's or not.
"Really?" Marko gasped.
"Why would I lie?" I shrugged with all the confidence of a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
Felicia looked like she was about to leap across the table and strangle me.
"And you know the best part?" I added, milking it..
"What?" Marko asked eagerly, leaning in.
I let the silence hang for a second—just enough time to let the suspense simmer like a slow-cooked revenge stew.
"Peter wasn't even there," I said finally. "Just the two of us."
Marko looked at me as if I were his role model.
"Dude, awesome," he said with stars in his eyes. "So did something happen?"
"Of course," I answered proudly.
"What?!" Marko asked, his lecherous face already seeping out.
I leaned back, enjoying the attention. Both of them were staring at me like zombies looking at a fresh brain.
"That's…" I let it drag out, savoring the moment. "...a secret."
Marko punched me in the arm as I burst into laughter.
Felicia looked torn, flicking her gaze between the version of me she saw yesterday and the one sitting across from her now.
Looking at her, I suddenly thought that it was a good opportunity to tame the kitten further.
"Actually," I said, cutting through the tension like a scalpel, "something happened on my second date too."
Marko's eyes bulged. "With another girl?"
"Yep." I nodded. "Another girl."
Now, he looked at me as if I were a divine champion telling him the holy truth.
Felicia scoffed. "Hmph. I knew it. Men really are all the same." Her eyes narrowed. "Did this other girl know about your first one?"
"Nope," I said, with zero shame.
"You—" Her voice rose, almost a yell. "How could you cheat on her?"
She didn't specify whom she was talking about, but we both knew whom she meant that question for.
"Cheat? How can it be cheating when she is not even my girlfriend?" I laughed; my tone was like that of an asshole playboy.
Felicia looked ready to explode—but stopped. Because she knew, technically, I wasn't wrong. Immoral? Sure. But not a lie.
Then she tried again. "Even if she's not your girlfriend, shouldn't you focus on just one? Instead of… riding two boats at once?"
I looked her in the eyes.
The smile faded from my face.
Looks like it was time to tear the mask off.
It was the moment of truth.
This was the moment she needed to understand—
There was no us.
Not in the way she thought.
Cheating? Morality? I scoffed.
The things I did and the things I would do in the future, two-timing would look like helping a grandma cross the street in front of that.
"Why should I?" I said quietly.
Felicia blinked. "What do you mean 'Why should I'?" she asked, her voice cracking. "That's not—It's not right."
"What is right?" I asked. "Everyone has a different definition for that."
She opened her mouth—then closed it. Her fists clenched, but no words came out.
"For me, it's simple," I continued. "What I do is right. Others might see it as wrong. But if I believe it's right? That's all that matters."
If I didn't even have the spine to accept my actions and ambitions, then I might as well jump off the 20th floor and end it all swiftly.
I was going to rule. And rulers don't apologize.
They take.
A ruler was not bound by the laws made by weak men and women. He was above all laws.
"I want them both," I said, my voice low but firm. "Hell, I want more. If they understand that, good. If not? They can walk."
"Call me selfish. Call me patriarchal. Misogynist. Manipulative. Throw every buzzword you want. But this is me. I won't change. Not for anyone."
Felicia stared at me like I'd just slapped her.
Her lip quivered. A single tear slipped down her cheek. She stood, grabbed her plate, and turned without a word.
The soft clink of her tray hitting the canteen bin was the only sound as she walked away, eyes down, shoulders stiff, heart probably splintering behind that armor.
I looked at her disappearing back. She looked like a wounded kitten.
I could've stopped her. But I didn't.
Every woman was different. You couldn't play the same hand with all of them. What tamed one might push another away.
Felicia? She was wild. Independent. That fire in her? I liked it.
But she needed to understand something fundamental: I was above her. She needed to accept it.
And that was also the main flaw of the plan.
If she didn't, I would lose a future world-class thief... and I was fine with that.
An empire built on disobedience doesn't last.
I wouldn't be like that pathetic wallcrawler—betrayed over and over, still crawling back with puppy eyes and open arms. That wasn't love. That was weakness in spandex.
Felicia's quirks? Endearing, sure. But I'd only indulge them once she was mine. Fully. Completely.
That was the reason I didn't fuck her yesterday.
She never took off her mask.
She kept it on the whole time.
And that told me everything.
Even in her most vulnerable moment, she kept a barrier between us. Her identity—her privacy—was more important to her than I was.
Unacceptable.
"Dude…" Marko finally spoke, quiet but firm. "Did you really have to be that harsh?"
He wasn't joking. No smugness, no sarcasm—just that rare moment when a fool turned philosopher. He didn't blame me, but he wasn't condoning it either.
I appreciated him for not interrupting earlier.
I sighed but did not answer.
Marko didn't press further, and we went back to eating.
The rest of lunch passed in silence. When the bell rang, we split for class.
Later, we met again like usual. Talked crap. Joked. Laughed.
No one mentioned Felicia.
Probably for the best.
But then, somewhere between our stupid jokes about cafeteria meat and superhero power tiers, Marko fell quiet.
His expression kept shifting—guilt, doubt, something close to shame. Like he was trying to choke down a request but couldn't quite find the throat for it.
So he finally decided to bring it up.
"K-Kevin, I, uh… Can you, uh," Marko tried to speak but just couldn't form the words.
I stared at him quietly while he tried to piece together a coherent sentence, but miserably failing each time.
The more he tried to speak, the more guilt and shame covered his face.
"K-Kevin, c-can, yo—"
Yeah, no. I'd had enough.
"I refuse," I stated.
Marko froze. He hung his head down and looked dejected, like a lost puppy.
"I refuse to go on a date with you," I repeated, deadly serious.
I gave him a solemn nod. "I know coming out is hard. I'm proud of you for accepting your truth. But I just think… we should stay friends."
He blinked. "Huh? What?"
His brain processed the sentence a few seconds too late.
His face became red with anger, and he punched my chest with all his might.
I had to tighten my chest muscles at the last moment to receive the punch, even then it was fucking painful.
"Who the fuck accepted anything!?" Marko snapped.
"Hey," I said in pain. "You don't have to be violent just because I refused to go on a date with you."
"FUCK YOU," Marko screamed.
"Nope, not happening," I refused, yet again.
Marko looked as if his head would blast open any second due to anger.
"Say that again," he growled, glaring at me.
I raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered.
He looked like his skull was going to crack from rage. He glared, fuming, fists clenched, jaw grinding—
Then he broke.
First, a snort. Then a short laugh. Then a full-on, shoulder-shaking wheeze.
You're ridiculous," he said, shaking his head.
I only replied with a smirk.
Marko looked serious again.
"Kevin…" he said, voice lower now. "Can I borrow some money again?"
This time, no stammering. Just raw, quiet shame.
"Sure," I replied without blinking. "How much?"
He paused. I waited.
He drew a deep breath, like he had to rip the number out of his lungs.
"…A thousand," he muttered. "A thousand dollars."
"Sure," I agreed and handed him the money.
He looked stunned as he took the bills, his hands trembling.
"I'm sorry, Kevin," he muttered. "I already owe you so much. And now… this too."
"Don't sweat it," I said carelessly.
He looked down, ashamed, as he stuffed the money into his pocket.
We stood there in silence for a while.
"By the way, Marko," I said, breaking the silence.
Marko looked up slowly.
"You know that you can always ask me for help, right?" I said, voice steady. "If you are in any kind of trouble, you can tell me. You're like a brother to me. Whatever it is, I'll help."
Marko just stared at me. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then something else flickered in his eyes.
Panic. Hesitation. Fear.
He stopped whatever he was going to say.
"I'm not in trouble," he said with a fake laugh. "I mean—what trouble? Everything's good."
"Really? That's good to hear," I said with a smile.
"Yeah. Totally." He smiled too—but his didn't reach his eyes.
Then, almost too quickly, he added, "Oh! I forgot—I need to be somewhere. I'm running late. Catch you later, Kevin!"
He turned and bolted.
I watched him go.
"Hey, Marko!" I called out after a few steps.
He paused and shook slightly. With hesitation, he turned back, looking at me with an inquisitive gaze.
"If negotiation fails…" I said, pausing just long enough to make him lean in—
"Flip the table."
He looked at me in confusion. He couldn't understand the context.
In the end, he nodded anyway and walked away.
Marko got in his car and drove off.
I walked over to my taxi and climbed in. For a second, I half-expected Felicia to pop into the passenger seat like a hurricane wrapped in leather and sarcasm.
But the seat stayed empty.
Whatever. She needed some time to digest what had happened today.
I started the engine. The taxi growled to life, and with a roar, it ran out of the university.
My eyes lingered on the road Marko had taken.
My friend, Marko...
Let's see what you do next.
*********************
Mission: Motivate the Author
Description: Gather Power Stones to fuel the Author's energy reserves and push him into overdrive. Succeed, and he will deploy one extra chapter during the corresponding week.
Objective 1: 200 Power Stones in Week 1 (Completed)
Reward: One bonus chapter for the week (Delivered)
Objective 2: 220 Power Stones in Week 2 (Completed)
Reward: One bonus chapter for the week (Delivered)
Objective 3: 250 Power Stones in Week 3
Reward: One bonus chapter for the week
Objective 4: 300 Power Stones in Week 4
Reward: One bonus chapter for the week