Nicholas emerged from the basement, his expression grim as he carried a bag filled with smartphones in one hand and the kid on his back. The kid had a plate of Darkium firmly covering their eyes—Nicholas's precaution to keep them from using their ability.
The sight that greeted him on the first floor of the building was unexpected. In one corner, a dozen people huddled together, their expressions a mix of fear and exhaustion. They were guarded by two burly men, both white, standing rigidly on either side of a third figure.
This third man was hard to miss. He was dark-skinned and flamboyantly dressed, his suit a loud orange that shimmered faintly under the dim lighting. His long, fiery red braid—though it might've been orange—reached to his waist, and his piercing green eyes locked onto Nicholas the moment he stepped into view.
When he saw the kid on Nicholas's back, the man frowned deeply, his annoyance evident. "Why can't you do anything I ask you to?" he said, his voice sharp and grating. Nicholas decided instantly that he didn't like him.
The kid squirmed slightly at the sound of the man's voice, but Nicholas kept his grip firm. "Let me guess," Nicholas said flatly, his tone deadpan. "You're the mastermind behind this little operation."
The flamboyant man gave Nicholas a once-over, his eyes narrowing. "You're… Unknown."
"Yeah, yeah," Nicholas replied, brushing off the recognition like it was nothing. "Now answer my question. What the hell are you trying to pull here? You do realize that once the police catch wind of this, the Heroes will come down here and roast you alive, right?"
The man's confident smirk faltered for a brief moment, replaced by something more subdued. "Like I have a choice," he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for Nicholas to hear. "I've got a debt to pay, so if you'd be so kind…"
Nicholas gave him a tired, unimpressed look. "Yeaaaah—Not happening."
"Figures," the man said with a sigh, shaking his head.
Nicholas gently placed the kid and the bag of phones on the ground, straightening up as he prepared for a fight. He cracked his knuckles, his body language relaxed but ready.
"If we're going to fight, it's only right I give you my name," the man began, straightening his posture dramatically as if this was his moment of glory.
"I don't really care," Nicholas interrupted, his tone dripping with boredom.
The man scowled at the dismissal but continued anyway. "Screecher."
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "How original. Let me guess—your power is to yell really loudly?"
Screecher's grin widened as he pulled a full white demon mask from beneath his clothes and placed it over his face. "You'll see soon enough," he said ominously.
Before Nicholas could respond, Screecher took a deep breath, the mouth on his mask opened up, and let out a deafening, high-pitched scream. The sound was bone-rattling, forcing Nicholas to clap his hands over his ears as the windows shattered, and cracks spread through the walls.
Nicholas gritted his teeth, his thoughts racing. 'Great. I was joking, but he actually is a human megaphone.'
Screecher's voice echoed through the room, forcing the huddled captives to cry out in fear as they pressed their hands against their ears. Nicholas quickly summoned a plate of Darkium to cover his ears, muffling the sound slightly. He lunged forward, his movements fluid despite the chaos, aiming to close the distance between them before Screecher could do more damage.
"You're loud, I'll give you that," Nicholas muttered as he darted around one of the guards, forming a dark gauntlet over his arm. "But let's see how well you scream when you can't breathe."
He swung the gauntlet in a controlled arc, aiming for Screecher's stomach, but the man sidestepped with surprising agility, his grin widening. "You'll have to try harder than that, Unknown!"
Nicholas frowned under his mask. "A shame," he said coolly. "I was hoping to wrap this up before the day's over."
With a swift move, Nicholas extended his free hand and grabbed Screecher by the throat, applying just enough pressure to cut off his breath. Screecher's hands scrambled to free himself, but before Nicholas could follow through, he was struck hard from behind.
The force of the blow made him release Screecher and stumble forward. Then, another hit connected with his stomach, sending him skidding back several feet.
Nicholas straightened up, his eyes darting around the room, quickly assessing the situation. The two guards had stepped forward, clearly deciding to intervene.
'Figures,' Nicholas thought with a weary sigh.
Screecher staggered back, coughing violently. "You alright, Wally?" one of the guards called out, concern laced in his voice.
"Dammit, Finkle! The boss told us not to call each other by our names." The other guard shouted at the first one.
"But, Dutch," Finkle muttered defensively, "you just used my name..."
The taller guard, Dutch, stiffened and shot a sheepish glance at Screecher before snapping back, "Yeah, well, shut up about it!"
Screecher, or Wally as they had accidentally revealed, glared at the two of them, his patience clearly at its limit. "Both of you morons, shut up! Do you want to just hand him our full government names?!"
Nicholas stood there, arms crossed, watching the chaotic interaction with a deadpan expression. "Wow," he muttered under his breath. "This is honestly painful to witness."
Nicholas cracked his neck, the Darkium gauntlet on his arm reforming with jagged edges. His eyes darted between the two guards and Wally, analyzing their stances. "Alright, let's get this over with," he said, stepping forward with a confidence that made the trio tense.
Dutch, the larger of the two guards, charged first. His fist came crashing down like a hammer, but Nicholas sidestepped with ease, countering with a quick jab to the ribs. The impact sent Dutch staggering back, clutching his side, but before Nicholas could press the advantage, Finkle closed the gap.
Finkle moved faster than Nicholas expected, throwing a precise series of punches that Nicholas barely managed to deflect with his gauntlet. One hit slipped through, grazing his cheek and forcing him to take a step back.
"Not bad," Nicholas muttered, his tone almost amused.
"Don't get cocky," Wally sneered, his voice raspy from earlier. He opened his mask again and let out another piercing scream.
Nicholas winced, his body momentarily freezing as the sound assaulted him. That hesitation was enough for Dutch to recover and barrel into him like a freight train, knocking him off balance. Finkle followed up with a spinning kick aimed at Nicholas's head, but Nicholas ducked just in time, rolling out of the way to regain his footing.
"You two are surprisingly coordinated for morons," Nicholas said, dusting himself off as he stood.
"Boss, you hear that? He thinks we're coordinated!" Finkle beamed, clearly taking the comment as a compliment.
Dutch smirked. "Guess we're doing something right, huh?"
Wally facepalmed. "Stop celebrating and kill him already!"
The two guards lunged simultaneously, forcing Nicholas onto the defensive. He dodged Dutch's heavy punches, stepping into his blind spot, only for Finkle to intercept with a quick jab. Nicholas parried with his gauntlet, spinning to deliver a sharp kick to Dutch's knee, sending the larger man crashing to the floor.
Before he could capitalize on the opening, Wally's scream erupted again, throwing Nicholas off balance. The soundwave slammed into him like a physical force, pushing him back against the wall.
Nicholas grimaced, his head pounding. "Alright, I'm getting real tired of this." He raised his hand, summoning a jagged shard of Darkium in his palm and hurling it at Wally's mask. Wally ducked just in time, the shard embedding itself in the wall behind him.
"Close," Nicholas muttered.
Wally glared, his frustration bubbling over. "Why the hell are you even doing this? Protecting that brat? Fighting for these people? What's in it for you, Unknown?"
Nicholas shrugged, his tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather. "Nothing really."
Wally's fists clenched, his voice rising. "Then why the hell are you even bothering with this?!"
Nicholas paused, tilting his head slightly as if considering the question for the first time. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm and measured. "Do I really have to explain myself to you? If you want an answer that badly... let's go with why not? I can help them, so why shouldn't I?"
Wally's expression twisted into a sneer. "You really think you're some kind of hero? Let me give you a reality check." He jabbed a finger toward the kid on the floor. "That brat you're protecting? He's with us. He stole of his own volition! Nobody forced him to do it—he worked with us because he thinks stealing is fun!"
Nicholas's gaze shifted to the kid, who sat frozen. The makeshift plate of Darkium over his eyes couldn't fully hide the guilt written all over his face.
Nicholas sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You talk too much, Wally. First off, I'm not trying to be a hero." He glanced at the trembling kid again and then back at Wally. "And second... maybe you're right. Maybe the kid's got some bad habits. But the difference between me and you? I'm giving him a chance to make things right. You're just using him to clean up your mess."
In the next moment, Nicholas's leg was stabbed. He let out a cry of pain as he looked back and saw the kid had stabbed him, the kid then ran away towards Wally, who had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.
"HA! That's what you get for trying to protect a Villain!" he jeered. "Good work, kid. Maybe we'll make a villain out of you after all!"
Before Wally could savor his moment of triumph, his expression froze. A pitch-black dagger pierced his shoulder, sliding in with eerie precision. The pain barely registered in his mind as his gaze snapped back to the kid, who was now glaring at him with clear defiance.
The Darkium plate that had covered the kid's eyes vanished in a puff of shadowy mist, and the kid activated his ability, snatching Wally's demon mask right off his face. The mask blinked into existence in the kid's hands, only to reappear in Nicholas's grasp. Standing tall despite his injury, a faint, otherworldly blue glow radiated from the dark mist coiling around his wounded leg.
Nicholas chuckled darkly as he limped forward, patting the kid on the head. "'We'll make a villain out of you,' huh? You didn't even bother to learn the kid's name." His voice carried a sharp edge of mockery. "He has a name, you know. It's Evan."
Who would have thought that the young thief shared the same name as his younger brother?
Wally's jaw dropped, his mind struggling to piece together what had just happened. "W-what? You... you were stabbed!"
"That I was, it wasn't so bad," Nicholas said casually, twirling the demon mask in his hand.
"You had the kid stab you... just to trick me?!"
Nicholas clapped his hands mockingly. "Wow, maybe there is a brain in there somewhere."
Wally looked over at his two guards, desperation in his voice. "I'm not the only one who thinks he's insane for that, right?"
Both guards exchanged uneasy glances before nodding in agreement.
Nicholas shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "If it works, it works." He spared a glance at Evan, his tone softening for a brief moment. "Besides, I owed the kid that one."
Turning his attention back to Wally, Nicholas's smirk faded, replaced by a steely glare. "Evan told me a lot before I decided to face you. About how you roped him into this, how you're trying to scrape together enough cash to pay off some debt to a 'demon.' And he also mentioned how you rely on some mask tech to stabilize your power. Let me guess—your ability isn't something you can control easily. I'm betting it's a physical type augmentation, and without this little toy—" he held up the demon mask, "—you're just as much a liability as an asset."
Wally's face twisted in rage, but Nicholas pressed on, his voice steady and filled with quiet menace. "So here's the deal: surrender now, or I'll ignite that dagger still lodged in your shoulder and turn you into roast meat."
For a moment, the room was silent except for the ragged breaths of Wally and his guards.
"You're... you're more like a villain than a hero," Wally muttered, his voice low and accusatory.
Nicholas waved a hand dismissively. "I'm neither. Just a guy doing whatever I feel like. And what I feel like doing right now is taking you down and returning everything you've stolen."
Wally's lips curved into a sudden, triumphant grin. "You think you've figured me out, but you've failed to account for one thing."
Nicholas's eyes narrowed, his body tensing as he conjured a shadowy dagger behind his back. "What's that?"
Wally's grin widened as he declared, "My power isn't a physical augmentation... It's psy-augmentation!"
The moment he spoke, a sharp, piercing noise filled Nicholas's mind. He staggered, clutching his head as blood began to trickle from his ears. The room seemed to spin, the sound growing louder and more unbearable with each passing second.
Evan, frozen in fear, called out to him, his voice trembling. "M-Mister Unknown!"
Nicholas gritted his teeth, struggling to endure the pain, but the overwhelming sound made it almost impossible to think. Wally stood there triumphant, his grin the sign of a man who knew he had turned the tide of the fight.
Nicholas glared at Wally. if the bastard thought this fight was over, he was in for a rude awakening. Unfortunately, Nicholas realized he'd accidentally dismissed the dagger lodged in Wally's shoulder when the psy-augmentation hit him. Not that he would've set the man ablaze, even if he still had the option. Monsters? He could kill them without hesitation. Probably. Humans? That was a line he wasn't ready to cross… yet.
"Evan, look at me," Nicholas forced out through clenched teeth. The kid turned, his face full of worry. "Keep the people safe. If anyone tries to get near them, stop them however you can."
Evan hesitated but nodded, rushing to the civilians. One of the guards moved to intercept him, but before he could grab Evan, he activated his power, and the guard was teleported several meters away.
Nicholas staggered to his feet, his head pounding as the blood continued to trickle from his ears. Every movement was agony, but he wasn't about to give up. Even through the searing pain, he could take stock of the situation.
The two guards didn't seem eager to approach him, standing back as if wary of making the first move. Wally, meanwhile, was grinning, though Nicholas could see the cracks in his mask—figuratively speaking. He was in pain too, even if he was trying to hide it.
'I won't fall for that,' Nicholas thought as he slipped the demon mask over his own. To his relief, the unbearable noise in his head immediately stopped. His vision cleared, and he finally got a moment to breathe.
"So that's it," Nicholas said, his voice steady now. "When you use your power, you suffer from its effects too. The mask allows you to physically manifest your power, but also to cancel out any negative drawbacks." He assessed.
Wally's grin faltered as unease crept into his expression. "You're pretty good at reading people's powers, huh?"
Nicholas didn't let him off easy. "Nah, you're just that transparent."
The taunt hit its mark. Wally's face turned an angry shade of red. "You—"
"Finkle," Wally barked, cutting himself off, "use the thing."
Finkle froze, visibly nervous. "B-but Boss... I don't want to use it."
"We don't have a choice!" Wally roared, his voice echoing through the space. Both his henchmen flinched at the outburst.
Reluctantly, Finkle pulled out a glass vial containing a pitch-black, almost liquid-like substance. It swirled ominously, as though alive, like a predator lying in wait.
Nicholas's eyes narrowed. His thoughts flashed back to the interrogation room when the detective questioned him about a black substance.
'Was this what he was talking about?'
Before anyone could act, a loud, echoing boom shook the building. Everyone turned to the doors as they were kicked open with incredible force.
A figure entered, and while they looked human, Nicholas felt something off. No, not just off—wrong. This wasn't a human. It was a demon wearing the guise of one.
The demon had skin pale as snow, messy silver hair, piercing blue eyes, and a grey-and-black demon mask covering the lower half of their face. Draped in a long red leather coat that swept behind them, the demon strode forward, their presence suffocating the room.
Everyone froze, their fear palpable. Wally, Finkle, and Dutch were practically trembling.
Nicholas narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening on the mask he wore. His suspicions were confirmed—this was the "demon" Wally owed his debt to.
The demon spoke, his voice rich and confident, almost amused. "Tick-tock, Wallace Jade. Your time's up, for the Debt Reaper is here!"
A tense silence followed. No one moved or spoke, whether from disbelief or sheer terror.
The demon let out a long, exaggerated sigh, breaking the silence. "...No one? Really? I thought that was a good line." He shook his head, disappointment heavy in his voice. "Man, I've really just devolved into an errand boy, haven't I?"
Nicholas remained motionless, his gaze sharp as he studied the demon's every movement. A grim, yet oddly amusing thought drifted through his mind.
'Oh great, a serial killer showing up on Friday the 13th… Do I have the power to manifest my thoughts?' He smirked, the idea both absurd and oddly tempting.
'Let's see… how about a million bucks or a girlfriend? How about that, Fate? Will you throw me a bone? Yeah, probably not.' He chuckled darkly, resigned to his ongoing streak of bad luck.