Arthur stayed in the shadows of the skyscrapers. He was back on the main street, but he felt like every pair of eyes was a spotlight. The white and grey suit was too loud. It felt like wearing a sign that said, arrest me or challenge me to a duel.
He saw a small gift shop tucked between a deli and a laundromat. Outside, a bin was filled with cheap plastic masks. They were mostly knock-offs of the Guardians of the Globe.
He saw a plain, dark blue mask that covered the top half of his face. He grabbed it, tossed a stray five-dollar bill he found on the ground into the register, and slipped it on.
His chest felt tight. Being around this many strangers was exhausting. Back home, he barely left his room except for school. Now, he was in the middle of New York City in a different dimension.
He needed to change. He needed a place to hide. But more importantly, he realized he had no money. The five dollars he used for the mask was literally all he had seen since waking up.
"System, do you have a bank feature or something?"
No response. The blue screen stayed silent.
'Right...'
He turned into a darker street, away from the tourists. The world-building here was subtle but present. He passed a poster for a "Teen Team" recruitment drive. He saw a news crawler on a window TV about a "Global Defense Agency" budget meeting.
He heard a muffled shout from a dead-end alley up ahead.
"Just give us the bag, old man! Don't make this messy!"
Arthur froze. His first instinct was to run. His social anxiety screamed at him to stay out of it. But then He remembered the Viltrumites on that red planet. If he was going to survive those monsters, he couldn't be afraid of some street thugs.
He peeked around the corner. Three men were surrounding an elderly man. One of them held a jagged switchblade. Another had a heavy lead pipe. The old man was trembling, clutching a leather briefcase to his chest.
'They're just NPCs,' Arthur thought, trying to use logic to calm his nerves. 'No, they're not. They're scum.'
He stepped into the alley. His boots made a soft thud on the pavement. The three men turned around. The one with the knife laughed.
"Check out this guy. What are you supposed to be? The budget version of Black Samson?"
Arthur's heart hammered. He wanted to say something cool, but his throat felt dry.
"L-leave him alone," Arthur managed to get out. It sounded weak.
The man with the lead pipe stepped forward. He swung it with a grunt, aiming for Arthur's shoulder.
He reached out and caught the pipe.
The metal bar hit his palm with a dull thud. It felt like someone had tapped him with a pencil. Arthur squeezed his hand. The lead pipe groaned and crumpled like a soda can under his grip.
The thug's eyes went wide. "What the—?"
Arthur didn't give him time to finish. He threw a punch. He didn't use his full power. He just wanted to push the guy away. But with his Strength, even a light tap was devastating.
His fist connected with the man's chest. There was a sickening crack of ribs. The thug was launched backward, flying ten feet into a stack of wooden pallets. He didn't get back up. He wasn't breathing.
[Ding! Enemy Defeated.]
The other two froze. The one with the knife lunged forward in a panic. He tried to stab Arthur in the gut. The blade hit the white suit and snapped. It was like trying to stab a tank with a toothpick.
Arthur felt a surge of confidence. The fear was still there, but it was being drowned out by the feeling of absolute power. He grabbed the man by his collar and lifted him off the ground with one hand.
"H-help! Please!" the man choked out.
"You were just going to kill that old man for a briefcase," Arthur said. His voice was steadier now.
He slammed the man into the brick wall. The impact was too much for a human skull. It sounded like a wet melon hitting the floor. Arthur let go, and the body slumped into the trash.
The third guy dropped his weapon and tried to bolt. Arthur blurred forward. He caught the man by the back of his hoodie and slammed him face-first into the concrete. The ground started to crack.
It was over in seconds. Three bodies lay in the dirt.
Arthur stood there, breathing hard. He looked at his hands. He had just killed three people. He expected to feel sick. He expected to cry. But instead, he felt... relieved. They were monsters in his eyes. They were the kind of people who made the world worse.
He walked over to the bodies. He reached into their pockets and pulled out three wallets. He flipped them open. Between the three of them, there was about four hundred dollars in cash.
"I need this more than you do," Arthur muttered.
He turned to the old man. The man was staring at him with pure terror.
"Y-you... you killed them," the old man whispered.
Arthur looked at him. He wanted to say something comforting. He wanted to explain. But the social wall came back up. He couldn't handle the look in the man's eyes.
"Go home," Arthur said shortly.
He didn't wait for a thank you. He took off. This time, He just used a small "hover" to clear the alley fence and disappeared into the shadows of the next block.
He found a small, run-down laundromat that stayed open 24/7. He used some of the stolen money to buy a plain black hoodie and some sweatpants from a nearby thrift store that was closing up. He threw them on over his suit.
He sat down on a park bench and called up the system.
[God Tier System: Status Window]
[Host: Arthur Sterling]
[Race: Viltrumite (Incomplete)]
[Level: 1]
[Stats:]
[Strength: 15]
[Dexterity: 9]
[Constitution: 3]
[Intelligence: 3]
[Wisdom: 3]
[Superpowers:]
[Flight (Basic)]
[Super Strength (Basic)]
[Active Quest: Seed Money (Complete)]
[Objective: Obtain funds for survival. Reward: 100 Experience Points, 1 Strength Point.]
[Notice: New superpowers can be unlocked by completing quests or defeating powerful opponents.]
Arthur felt a small warmth spread through his chest as the Strength point was added.
He looked around the park. He needed a place to sleep. A motel that didn't ask for ID. He also needed to figure out how to use that Random Skill Crate from his first quest.