The first thug groaned and tried to push himself back up against the wall, panic written all over his face now that the red glow was focused directly on him.
"P-please," he stammered. "Don’t do anything. My blood probably tastes bad anyway."
Mark’s mouth twitched under the mask.
What the hell kind of reputation was that?
He stared at the guy for a second. "Why exactly do you think I drink blood?"
The thug pointed shakily at him. "T-there’s stuff all over the internet saying you’re some psychopath who bathes in people’s blood!"
Mark blinked once.
Then looked genuinely offended.
"Wow," he muttered. "Give people one violent public appearance and suddenly they start writing fanfiction."
Annie, standing nearby, looked between the two with visible confusion.
Mark sighed and crouched slightly so the thug could hear him clearly.
"Listen carefully," he said. "Next time I catch you trying this kind of crap again—"
His glowing eyes flicked downward deliberately.
"—I’m vaporizing the part of you that keeps giving you these ideas."
The thug immediately looked down at his own crotch.
"Yep," Mark confirmed. "That part. Straight to ashes."
"S-so... can I leave?" the thug asked carefully, still staring at Mark like one wrong breath would get him disintegrated.
Mark waved a hand dismissively.
"Yeah, sure," he said. "Unless you want to stay and get sterilized by laser."
The thug did not need further encouragement.
He bolted out of the alley so fast he nearly slipped turning the corner.
The woman they had been harassing had already run too sometime during the chaos, disappearing the moment the red beams showed up.
Now the alley was quiet again.
Only Annie and Mark were left standing there beneath the flickering alley lights.
Mark glanced at her once.
"So there’s no damsel in distress left to save," he said. "You should probably head home. You look tired."
He turned slightly, already planning to leave.
"Wait."
Mark stopped and looked back over his shoulder.
"You’re the guy from the news," Annie said. "The one who humiliated The Deep in public."
"Yeah," Mark replied easily. "That was me."
Annie studied him carefully now.
"Then why aren’t you doing anything to me?" she asked. "I’m part of The Seven too."
There wasn’t accusation in her voice.
Mostly confusion.
From the things he’d shouted publicly, the way he attacked members of The Seven on camera, it was obvious he hated them.
Mark looked at her for a second before answering.
"Because I’m not insane," he said. "I go after scumbags. Human trash. People who hurt others because they think nobody can stop them."
His eyes narrowed slightly behind the mask.
"You don’t really fit into that category."
Annie looked caught off guard by how direct the answer was.
"You should’ve seen it by now," Mark continued. "The Seven isn’t some heroic fantasy. It’s just a group full of people with power and ego problems pretending to be saints for cameras."
He shrugged lightly.
"So what exactly is wrong with me beating up human garbage?"
Annie stayed quiet.
Because the uncomfortable part was—
She couldn’t really argue with him anymore.
"And if you ever try to stop me," Mark said as he turned back toward her, "that’s probably going to end in two ways."
Annie tensed slightly.
"One," he continued, "you run away."
"And the second?"
Mark’s eyes suddenly began glowing red again, the light reflecting across the narrow alley as energy gathered fast enough to make Annie instinctively prepare herself.
Then—
"I run."
The glow vanished instantly.
Mark turned and bolted out of the alley before Annie could even process what just happened.
She stood there for a second, completely thrown off.
"...What?"
A small laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
Because this was supposedly the dangerous supervillain all over the news right now, the guy people were treating like some terrifying threat to society—
and he’d just built up dramatic tension for a stupid joke before sprinting away like an idiot.
"It really is hard to judge people just from watching them on a screen," Annie said quietly as she watched him leave.
And honestly, she meant it.
A few days ago she would’ve called people like him dangerous without hesitation. The news painted him like some unstable psycho attacking heroes in public while The Seven stood as symbols of justice.
Now?
She’d spent enough time around the actual "heroes" to know how fake most of it was.
Meanwhile the so-called villain had stepped into an alley to stop a woman from getting assaulted, cracked dumb jokes, and left without asking for attention or cameras.
The comparison was getting uncomfortable.
As Mark stepped out onto the street, he shoved his hands into his pockets and let out a breath.
He had to admit it.
He probably saved Annie from one of the most annoying moments of her life.
Because in the original timeline, this whole thing turned into a disaster for her. Annie tried to stop two drunk creeps, someone recorded only part of it, and the internet immediately twisted the story into "Starlight assaults harmless civilians."
Then came the outrage articles.
The talk shows.
The online idiots pretending a woman defending herself was somehow controversial.
Sure, later the actual victim came forward and cleared things up, but by then Vought had already smelled opportunity.
Popularity.
Attention..
And that led directly to the costume.
Mark physically grimaced thinking about it.
That ridiculous "upgraded" Starlight outfit Vought forced onto her afterward looked less like superhero gear and more like something designed by a marketing team addicted to strip clubs.
Absolute criminal behavior.
At least now that mess probably wouldn’t happen.
"Good thing nobody recorded that," Mark muttered to himself while walking away.
Then he paused briefly.
"...Actually, maybe people did."
Considering his face—or well, the glowing eyes and general murder vibes—the bystanders probably saw him and collectively decided minding their own business was healthier.
***
A/N: Advanced Chapters are available on Patreon.
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