I read that last line three times.
Steal... their powers?
I stared at the translucent blue text floating in front of my face. It didn't disappear. It just hovered there, glowing faintly like a cheap sci-fi movie overlay.
I started laughing.
It was a small, broken chuckle that bubbled up out of my chest like something that'd been stuck down there for years.
"Right. Okay. Sure."
I slapped my own cheek.
*Smack*
"..."
Still there. The pain in my ribs reminded me real quick. So did the blood still dripping from my split knuckles onto the concrete.
"Okay... so I'm hallucinating. That's fine. That's, uh, totally normal. I hit my head pretty hard when bucky threw me into that wall, right? That's probably it."
I nodded to myself like I'd just solved a math problem.
"Yeah. Concussion. Gotta be. The old man voice, the weird screens... yeah. That's all just my brain being scrambled from getting my head caved in by an E-rank jackass."
I let myself fall back against the alley wall and closed my eyes, waiting for the voices and the floating text to go away.
...
It didn't.
When I opened my eyes again, the screens were still there.
"Maybe I'm in a coma, then? That's a thing, right? People in comas dream stuff up all the time. Maybe I'm just lying in some hospital bed somewhere, hooked up to machines, dreaming all of this."
I pinched the back of my hand hard enough to leave a mark.
Still didn't disappear.
"Okay..."
I dragged my hands down my face and tried to count out the reasons this couldn't be real.
First off—parasites. Something that steals powers by touching people. That was possible, sort of.
I'd heard about villains like that. The media called them "Power Thieves." One showed up in the news every couple of years, and every time, they were the most hunted person on the planet.
Why?
Because for heroes, power is everything. They spend their whole lives building it up. And then some random asshole touches them and just takes it?
Game over.
All that work, gone. Their career, their status, their rank, their bitches, their whole future. Wiped out like it never existed.
Being born with that kind of power is extremely rare. The DAA lists it under the same category as power mimics and power amplifiers: "Power Manipulators."
That's one of the reasons the DAA keeps a file on every awakened person, and why they jump on any rumor of power stealing like a pack of wolves.
Because if word ever got out that a real power thief was running around, every hero agency in the country would drop everything to hunt them down. Not out of justice. Out of fear. Nobody sleeps easy knowing something like that is out there.
So, yeah. This system claiming I could do that?
Bullshit.
It had to be bullshit.
Am I was supposed to believe a broken, bleeding kid lying in an alley just got handed that kind of power?
I laughed again, and this time it came out a little more unhinged.
"Okay, universe. I get it. You're a cruel bitch. Something something 'be careful what you wish for'? Making fun of me? That's it, right? Gotta be."
I looked down at my palm, where I'd felt that weird wriggling sensation earlier. The cut from the glass was still there, still bleeding, but I couldn't see anything moving underneath the skin now.
"Righto. So. Either I'm insane, I'm dreaming, or some old man just handed me the superhero equivalent of a nuclear bomb."
I slapped myself again, harder this time.
*Smack*
My cheekbone ached. My head throbbed. I could taste blood in my mouth.
"Three times! Three times is the charm, right? Somebody pinch me, I'm freaking out, et cetera et cetera..."
But nothing changed.
The screens remained. The counter kept ticking down. And I was still sitting in that damp alley with blood on my face and a pulsing pain in my chest.
I sat there in complete silence for a while, trying to decide what to do next.
Honestly? I was still convinced this was some kind of fever dream. My brain had clearly broken somewhere along the line. I'd been beaten up one too many times, pushed around by everyone I knew for years on end, and finally, I'd just... snapped. It made perfect sense that I'd start hallucinating some "villain origin story" right after the worst beating I'd taken in months.
But you know what?
If I'm going to be insane, might as well have fun with it.
Maybe it was the madness talking, or maybe it was the fact that I was completely empty at that point, so hollow and beaten down that even clinging to a delusion felt like a lifeline. Maybe I just needed to believe in something, anything, even if it was just a hallucination telling me I could actually fight back for once.
I started laughing again.
It started small at first, a few broken giggles, muffled by my hand. But then it grew into full, wheezing laughter that left me clutching my ribs and gasping for air, cackling like a goddamn lunatic in a damp alley with blood still dripping down my face.
"Pffft..ha... Hahahahaha!..."
I laughed and laughed until it hurt almost as much as the beating, and then I laughed some more because I straight up couldn't stop.
"What the hell, right? What the hell do I have to lose?"
I wiped my eyes and looked at the screen floating in front of me.
[First parasite (Gen 0) has been seeded.]
[Lifespan: 19:58:12]
"Okay... okay okay okay okay. So this thing is supposed to be inside me, right? And it needs to get into someone else? Someone who has power?"
I looked around the alley, almost expecting a conveniently placed hero to walk by and give me a slap on the back before offering me his powers for a quick test.
No such luck.
"Well, alright. If this is a delusion, I'll just go home, take a nap, laugh about this tomorrow, and try not to kill myself. But if it's not..."
I let the words trail off.
But if it's not...
"Let's try it."
I laughed again, and I was pretty sure I sounded unhinged even to my own ears.
"What's the worst thing that happens? I go crazy? I've been crazy for like ten minutes now and honestly? Can't say I hate it."
I pushed myself to my feet, swaying as my ribs protested and my head spun.
"Huh..."
I started walking out of the alley with a smile on my face.
"Why not? Let's go see what this parasite can do."
◇◇◇
The city at night was a neon-lit circus.
Massive billboards towered over every intersection, plastered with heroes in various states of undress. There was one of Gravity Queen doing a yoga pose in a skin-tight white bodysuit, her massive tits practically spilling out of the fabric even though she was fully covered. Next to her, Silverangel posed with her wings spread wide, her white-and-blue suit having a suspiciously deep neckline for a "holy" hero. On another board, Golden Queen smiled down at the street like a benevolent goddess with a honey-gold bodysuit cut so high it showed off almost her entire thick thigh.
Tsk.
I walked past them all with my hands shoved into my hoodie pocket, watching the people on the street.
A group of college kids stumbled out of a bar, laughing loudly. Three of them, one with a beer, two with huge to-go cups. I glanced at the two on either side of the group first, then schooled my face to not be too noticeable when I checked the third.
[Name: Marcus Chen]
[Age: 20]
[Rank: Blank]
Blank.
Another group passed by. A couple with their arms around each other. I looked at the guy.
[Name: Kevin Rhodes]
[Age: 34]
[Rank: Blank]
Blank.
I kept walking, my eyes sweeping across the street.
The world was full of faces. Dozens of them, hundreds of them, all walking around living their normal boring lives. And I was staring at every single one of them like a hungry dog looking for a bone.
But they were all just... Blank.
There was a little system function I'd discovered—a sort of scan that I could use to see someone's name, age, and rank of power—and every single time I used it, the answer was the same. Blank.
"Blank. Blank. Fucking blank."
I was already getting a headache from using the system eyes, focusing on the function so often. But I couldn't help it. I'd just discovered I could see superpowers, and suddenly everyone I passed had to be checked, in case they were something.
I passed by a hot milf pushing a stroller. She had long brown hair, a pair of massive tits stretching her t-shirt, and a round ass that was practically forcing its way out of her yoga pants. She looked like she'd been a cheerleader or something in her youth, and had kept up with her workouts well enough to stay tight.
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, and the system flashed in my vision.
[Name: Rachel Thompson]
[Age: 35]
[Occupation: Stay-at-home mom]
[Rank: Blank]
Blank again.
I sighed, annoyed, and looked away. At this rate, I was gonna run out of people to check.
I kept walking. I passed a guy in a business suit, a woman in a nurse's uniform, an old man smoking by a bus stop, a couple of teenagers hanging on a graffiti wall.
Blank. Blank. Blank. Blank.
"God fucking damn it."
I kicked a soda can that was lying on the sidewalk and watched it fly off into the street. It bounced off a taxi and got flattened under a wheel, and I felt a minor sense of satisfaction that I'd managed to make a tiny impact on something in this worthless city.
So this was it.
Here I was, freshly hallucinated or freshly in a coma—wasn't certain which yet—with a system that supposedly let me steal superpowers from people. And the universe had decided to put me in a city where every single person walking around was a goddamn blank slate.
"Figures. Of course. Why would I get lucky?"
What were the odds, right? Only 1 in 100 people have powers. That meant in a city of millions, there'd be thousands... but walking around at night, seeing random strangers?
It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
I reached into my pocket, hoping I'd missed a bill or two when Bucky had taken my wallet. I had nothing. Not even a dollar for the vending machine. My stomach rumbled loudly, and I winced, pressing a hand against it.
"Great. Just great."
No money. No dinner. No way home until midnight because Steph was probably getting pounded into the mattress by some rich slob at this exact moment.
I was hungry, broke, and standing in the middle of a city full of people who genuinely didn't give a shit that I existed. I could've been a corpse on the curb, and they'd walk right past me, absolutely not noticing a thing.
I was just about to turn around and look for a bench to collapse on when I heard it.
*Plap. Plap. Plap.*
At first, I thought it was something dripping. Like construction work or a leaky pipe or something. But it was rhythmic—steady, repetitive. And there was another sound behind it. A wet, soft sound.
*Schoop. Schoop. Schoop.*
And then, a voice.
"Mmnh~... fuck, baby..."
I froze.
That sound was familiar. I'd heard it before through the thin walls of our apartment when Steph hadn't realized I was home.
Sloppy, wet, hungry sounds.
I hesitated for a moment. The smart thing would've been to keep walking. Not get involved in whatever business was going on down that alley. But curiosity got the better of me, and I stepped carefully into the shadows, keeping close to the wall.
What I saw made me stop dead in my tracks.
A man was leaning against the alley wall, head thrown back, gasping and groaning. He had dark skin, a buzzcut, and a lean, athletic build. He was wearing some kind of bizarre outfit—threadbare and ripped at the chest, showing off a physique that had clearly seen the inside of a gym. There was a torn red cape hanging off his shoulders, and his suit had some kind of visor or mask hanging around his neck.
It looked like... a costume.
Like one of those heroes on the billboards, but... not really.
And he was getting his dick sucked.
The girl doing it was... wow.
I'd seen hookers around this part of the city before. Mostly tired-looking women, worked out-looking, with cheap clothes and hollow eyes. Not this one.
She was stacked. A tight red velvet dress hugged her figure so hard it looked like it was painted on, with a neckline plunging so deep it almost showed her belly button. Her tits were massive—way more than a handful, round and perky, with her nipples poking through the fabric like they were trying to break out. She had long, platinum blonde hair, pulled up in a messy ponytail, and a face that belonged on the cover of a magazine.
The only reason I was sure she was a prostitute of sorts is the way she dressed.
The dress was so short that when she bent over, I could see almost every inch of her round, pale cheeks. They were big and plump, jiggling with every movement she made. She was rocking back and forth on her knees, her head bobbing up and down on the guy's dick so fast it was almost blurry, and I could hear the *sloppy* sounds coming out of her mouth as she worked.
"*Ghk... phhh... hnnnn...*"
She was moaning between mouthfuls. Sucking that dick like it was her last meal, like she was desperate for the taste. And he was just standing there, hand tangled in her hair, fucking her throat with these long, deep strokes that made her gag and splutter.
"*Fuck... yeah... just like that, you dumb bitch...*"
I stood there, frozen in the shadows, watching them.
Something stirred in my chest. A strange mix of disgust and anger.
Looking at that woman reminded me of my stepmother.
But she wasn't really what I was interested in.
I focused my system eyes on him first.
[Name: David Collins]
[Age: 27]
[Occupation: Vigilante]
[Rank: D]
[Power Type: Speedster]
[Ability: Enhanced Speed (can run at roughly 200 km/h)]
[Description: A low-level vigilante who operates under the alias "Sonic Stryker." Known for being a hot-headed idiot with a moral compass that points wherever his dick leads him. Currently getting his dick sucked by a prostitute he just met.]
Son of a bitch.
A D-rank. An actual, real superpowered person. This was seriously the best luck I'd had all night.
I looked at him again, watching the way his head was thrown back and his hips were thrusting forward. This was it. This was the opportunity I'd been looking for. This was a man with real power, a man who had what I needed, and he was standing right there.
I just had to touch him.
Just... touch him.
I took a step forward, heart hammering so loud I was sure he'd hear it. Then I stopped.
Fuck...
"..."
My legs wouldn't move.
I was really about to do this. Really about to walk up to some random guy getting blown, touch him, and hope the parasite did... whatever it did. No plan, no backup, no idea if this would even work.
What if it was all in my head? Then I'd just be some weirdo who interrupted a blowjob to grope a stranger. That'd get me arrested. Or beaten up.
What if he tried to kill me? D-ranks weren't that strong, but when they're already balls-deep in a hooker and some random freak emerges from the shadows to jump them, most people's first instinct isn't "Wassup bro."
But then I thought about the alternative.
Go home, go to bed, wake up tomorrow, and be the same miserable, powerless kid I'd always been.
I stepped out of the shadows.
"Hey."
The hooker's head shot up. Her lips were slick and shiny, and there was a string of spit connecting her bottom lip to the head of his still-hard dick. She blinked at me with those big fake eyelashes, confused and annoyed.
"What the fuck?"
I turned my gaze to the guy. His eyes widened, and he fumbled to tug his pants up with one hand, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
"Who the hell are you, man?!" He stumbled back, grabbing a metal pipe off the ground.