I walked.
I didn't really have a destination or a plan. I was just... walking. Hands in my hoodie pockets, new phone in one pocket, cash in the other, the cool night air brushing against my face.
The city was alive around me—people going about their late-night business, cars humming past, neon signs flickering in windows.
It was... nice. Weirdly nice. For the first time in my life, I wasn't walking with my head down. I wasn't trying to be invisible. I wasn't scanning for Bucky or Ron or Jack.
I was just... existing. In a city that didn't care about me. And somehow, that felt freeing.
My Gamer Sight was on. Not Deep Focus—just the default level, the casual scan that floated basic info over people's heads like subtitles. It had become almost automatic now, like a sixth sense. Every person who walked past me got a little tag.
[Name: Marcus Webb]
[Age: 34]
[Rank: Blank]
[Occupation: Taxi driver]
[Name: John Ford]
[Age: 21]
[Rank: Blank]
[Occupation: Car dealership manager]
[Name: Yuki Tanaka]
[Age: 22]
[Rank: E]
[Occupation: Bartender]
[Ability: Minor Temperature Control (can heat or cool liquids by touch)]
[Name: Patricia Huang]
[Age: 29]
[Rank: Blank]
[Occupation: Accountant]
Boring. Boring. Slightly less boring. Still boring.
But every now and then, I'd spot someone interesting and zoom in. Deep Focus. Just for a second. Just to peek behind the curtain.
Like the guy in the expensive suit walking out of a fancy restaurant. Mid-forties, silver hair, perfect teeth.
[Name: Richard Sterling]
[Age: 46]
[Rank: D]
[Occupation: Corporate lawyer / Part-time hero consultant]
[Ability: Minor Lie Detection (can sense when someone is being deliberately deceptive within 2 meters)]
Deep Focus.
[History: Graduated from Franklin Law School. Married at 28, divorced at 35. Two kids he sees twice a year. Made his fortune defending hero agencies against liability lawsuits. Has connections to three different villain organizations through shell companies.]
[Secrets: Has been embezzling from his own firm for six years. Keeps a second family in New Harbor—mistress and twin daughters, age 4. Once killed a man in a hit-and-run while drunk driving and paid a Blank to take the fall. Wears a toupee. Has a collection of women's shoes in his closet that he wears when his wife is out of town. Well—he's not even married anymore. He just wears them whenever he likes.]
[Psychological traits: Narcissistic personality disorder. Genuinely believes he is smarter than everyone in any room. Is incorrect about this approximately 40% of the time.]
"...Nice shoes, Richard."
He didn't hear me. He was already getting into his Mercedes.
I kept walking.
A couple walked past me—guy and girl, holding hands, looking disgustingly in love. I zoomed in on the guy.
[Name: Tyler Chen]
[Age: 24]
[Rank: Blank]
[Occupation: Graphic designer]
Deep Focus.
[Secrets: Has been cheating on his girlfriend with her sister for three months. Has a Tinder profile under a fake name with photos that don't show his face. His girlfriend thinks he's "the one." He is currently considering whether to break up with her via text message or just ghost her entirely.]
"Yikes."
I looked at the girl.
[Name: Amanda Torres]
[Age: 23]
[Rank: E]
[Occupation: Yoga instructor]
[Ability: Minor Flexibility Enhancement (joints can bend slightly beyond normal human range)]
Deep Focus.
[Secrets: Knows about Tyler and her sister. Has known for two months. Hasn't said anything because she's also sleeping with Tyler's roommate. Has been planning to reveal everything at their anniversary dinner next week because she "wants to see the look on his face." Has a Pinterest board titled "Revenge Aesthetics."]
They walked past me, hand in hand, smiling at each other like nothing was wrong. Beautiful. Truly beautiful.
I loved this power.
I kept walking. Past cafes. Past bars. Past a group of college students stumbling out of a nightclub, clearly drunk. Past an old woman walking her dog. Past a homeless man sitting on a bench, muttering to himself.
Each one got a little tag. Each one had a story. Each one had secrets they thought were buried deep, hidden from the world, safe in the dark corners of their minds.
And I could see all of them. Just by looking.
"Humanity is fucked up," I muttered, grinning. "Like, genuinely, profoundly fucked up. If there's one thing this power teached me, it's this."
I turned a corner and found myself on a street lined with shops. Most were closed—it was almost midnight on a Sunday—but a few were still open. A convenience store. A late-night pharmacy. A donut shop that smelled incredible.
And a TV shop.
It was one of those old-school electronics stores that sold TVs, radios, and random gadgets. The kind of place that had been around since before the big chain stores took over. The window display was filled with maybe twenty different TVs, all turned on, all showing the same channel.
I stopped.
One of the screens was showing an interview. A woman was sitting across from a news anchor, smiling warmly. She was wearing a black-and-yellow bodysuit that clung to her massive chest and toned midriff, with a yellow cape draped behind her. Small yellow-and-black antennae sat on her head, and her long golden-blonde hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders.
... Golden Queen? or something.
I'd seen her on billboards a hundred times. She was one of the most popular heroes in Calder City, an A-rank with empathy powers and enough strength to punch through a building. She was known for being gentle, kind, and always smiling.
"—and how are you today, Miss Golden Queen?" the anchor was asking.
"I'm wonderful, thank you for asking!" she replied, her smile widening. "It's such a beautiful night, and I'm just happy to be here talking with you all."
"So humble, as always. Now, our viewers have been dying to know—what's it like being one of the most beloved heroes in Calder City?"
"Oh, stop it, you!" She laughed, waving her hand dismissively. "I'm just doing what anyone would do. Helping people, spreading positivity. That's what it's all about, right?"
I focused on her. Casual scan first.
Then Deep Focus.
My eyes throbbed. I pushed through it.
[Ding!]
[Gamer Sight has leveled up!]
[Level 2 → Level 3]
[New features unlocked!]
[1. Medium Scan: You can now see basic status information (name, age, occupation, rank) through visual mediums—TV screens, photographs, video feeds, live streams, etc. Deep Focus is not available through mediums.]
[2. Object Reading: You can now see descriptions and histories of mundane objects and structures by focusing on them. Includes: creation date, notable events, previous owners (if applicable), and current condition.]
[Warning: Extended use of Level 3 features will cause significant eye strain. Recommended usage limit: 10 minutes per hour.]
I blinked, and the Deep Focus on Golden Queen cut off abruptly. My eyes were throbbing—sharp, stabbing pains behind my eyeballs that made me wince and press my palms against them.
"Ow. Fuck."
That was the downside. The more I used Deep Focus, the worse the eye strain got. And the level-up had apparently made it worse, not better.
But the new features...
I looked at the TV screen again. Golden Queen was still talking, laughing about something. I focused on her—not Deep Focus, just the basic scan.
[Name: Selena Williams]
[Age: 44]
[Rank: A]
[Occupation: Pro Hero (Golden Queen)]
[Ability: Boosted Durability, Enhanced Strength, Empathy, Pet Pal, Enhanced Regeneration]
It worked. Through the TV. I could see her basic info just by looking at a screen.
"That's... really useful."
I could identify anyone on TV. Anyone on camera. Anyone in a photo. News anchors, heroes, villains, politicians—anyone whose face showed up on a screen, I could scan.
"That's broken as hell."
Then I tried the other feature. Object Reading. I looked at the TV shop building itself and focused.
[Building: Calder Electronics]
[Built: 1947]
[Original owner: Gerald Calder]
[Current owner: Marcus Calder (grandson)]
[Notable events: Robbed in 1982 (thief was an E-rank with wall-phasing ability, caught 3 hours later). Damaged in the Gate Surge earthquake of 124. Renovated in 126.]
[Condition: Structurally sound. Plumbing needs repair. Roof leaks during heavy rain. The owner has been meaning to fix it for two years but keeps putting it off.]
"Hah."
I looked at a parked car next.
[Object: 2019 Sterling Sedan]
[Owner: Linda Martinez]
[Purchase date: March 15, 2020]
[Notable events: Backed into a fire hydrant on July 4th, 2021 (owner was distracted by fireworks). Repaired at Cal's Auto Body for $3,400. Previous owner before Linda was a D-rank hero who used the trunk to transport monster cores illegally.]
[Condition: Front left tire is bald. Brake pads at 30%. Check engine light has been on for six months. Linda has been ignoring it.]
"This is amazing."
I looked at a nearby streetlight.
[Object: LED Streetlight (Model CC-400)]
[Installed: 2019]
[Manufacturer: Calder City Infrastructure Division]
[Notable events: Hit by a car in 2022 (driver was drunk, D-rank with speed powers, car was totalled, streetlight survived). Has been flickering intermittently since last month due to a loose wire connection that nobody has reported yet.]
[Condition: Functional but deteriorating. Estimated remaining lifespan: 8 months.]
I was grinning like an idiot. This was... this was a surveillance tool. An intelligence tool. I could look at any object and know its history. Any building, any car, any streetlight. I could walk into a room and know who'd been there, what had happened, what was broken and what wasn't.
And I could scan anyone on TV. Anyone in a photo. Anyone whose face appeared on any screen.
"Okay. This is getting ridiculous."
I looked back at the TV. Golden Queen was wrapping up her interview, waving at the camera with that warm, motherly smile.
"Thank you so much for having me! And remember, everyone—be kind to each other. The world needs more kindness."
"Sure, Golden Queen. I'll get right on that."
I turned away from the TV shop and started walking again. My eyes were still aching from the level-up, but the pain was fading. Slowly.
The city stretched out before me—miles of concrete and steel and glass, filled with millions of people, each one carrying their own secrets, their own histories, their own little tragedies.
And I could see all of them. Every single one.
"This is broken as hell," I muttered. "I have many possible ways of using it."