Dempsey reached his apartment, a five-story red-bricked building tucked into a quiet residential block. The place was cheap—exactly the kind of place for people like him to get by.
He rolled into the garage, leaned his bicycle against a pillar, and wrapped the heavy chain he kept hidden beneath his seat.
Thieves could strip the tires, sure, but the frame was the real treasure. Tires could always be retrieved from the 'trasureyard', but a solid frame was rare—rare as gold.
'I wonder which dude is more broke then me. LOL.'
Dempsey chuckled.
There was no elevator, so he started the climb to the fourth floor. He took the stairs quickly, practiced steps carrying him upward without much thought.
His apartment was 403. Each floor had ten rooms, all identical in their narrowness, their paint peeling in the same tired way.
At his door, he slid the key in and turned the lock. The familiar click greeted him like a sigh. He stepped inside, shut the door, and took off his shoes.
Habit had him place them in the small fridge by the door. He closed the fridge.
His apartment was modest, cluttered, and somehow decorated all at once. A single room with a bathroom, a kitchen, and a cramped storage closet near the bath.
At the center of the living room stood a wooden table, richly carved but beaten by time. One leg had snapped long ago, but Dempsey had braced it with a steel pipe bound in rope, a crude first aid that somehow held strong.
Worn carpets, once expensive, lay scattered on the floor, their patterns faded but still noble. The walls were lined with photo frames. Some displayed faces or half-torn memories; others hung empty, like skeletons of moments that never were.
By the living room window sat a small round table with two chairs. Plants lined the sill, greenery thriving in chipped pots he tended to daily.
He set his keys down on the "royal" table with a clink, then moved to his bedroom on the right.
The phone hit the charger as soon as he entered. His room, like the rest of the apartment, was filled with decorative odds and ends—sculptures, frames, trinkets. His bed, though, was the crown jewel: a high-quality spring mattress he'd found discarded two years ago. A miracle find. He never knew why the wealthy had tossed it, but he was grateful.
Dempsey grabbed a fresh black T-shirt and underwear, his body screaming for a shower. His skin felt sticky, his head heavy, as if he might collapse if he didn't wash away the day.
He headed to the bathroom, the neat but cramped hallway lined with more carefully arranged clutter.
He stayed in the shower for half an hour, humming under his breath, letting the cool water strip away the heat and fatigue.
He scrubbed until his skin prickled. He hand-washed his clothes, since the washing machine sat broken in the corner.
In truth, most of the electronics in his apartment didn't work. Only the ceiling fan and the lights still sputtered on reliably. He didn't need much anyway. Who is gonna pay the bill?
"Daaaamn~ that was good~. Huff~. I'm beat. Let's see what we have today, but first things first."
When he stepped out, he felt reborn. He hung the damp towel near the window, watered the plants, then moved into the kitchen.
The place was tidy, kitchen tools hanging neatly on the wall. They were old, worn smooth by time, but they gleamed faintly from care. He rarely used them. Just one pot saw life now and then, when he treated himself to instant noodles.
He opened the fridge, hoping for some. Empty.
"Hmm~ I needed to go out anyway, it worked out great I guess."
He muttered.
He returned to his bedroom. The phone was at 59%. He unplugged it, switched it off, and began shutting down the apartment. Lights off, sockets checked, doors latched.
At the entrance, he opened the fridge, slipped his shoes back on, and locked up.
Tonight, he would walk. The department store and the bank weren't far, and for some reason, he didn't feel like taking the bike. The cool evening air called to him.
=====
Dempsey walked toward the departmental store, the night breeze brushing his face. The weather was pleasant, the sky clear, the wind steady. The suffocating heat of summer already felt like a distant memory in this crisp evening chill.
He reached the store quickly, stepped inside, and checked his pocket.
Not enough for instant noodles.
He frowned, pulled out his phone, and opened his bank account. Just barely enough to cover electricity, gas, and rent for the month. Nothing left over for himself.
'Daaaamn~ Sad life. But well, Whatever. Banana it is. It has more protein anyway.'
He bought two bananas, ate on the way out, and headed toward his next stop: the bank.
His landlord was an old man who refused to use modern systems, always demanding cash in hand. Annoying, but Dempsey had to admit—walking into a bank every month almost made him feel rich.
He arrived at the bank. A few customers milled about. He waited in line for his withdrawal, scrolling through social media with a bored look.
But boredom didn't last.
Three armed men, faces hidden behind black masks, stormed inside.
"Everyone hands up—it's a robbery!"
The shout made the room explode in panic. Women screamed. Men froze.
Dempsey himself nearly dropped his phone. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest, but he managed to clutch both at the last second. He glared resentfully at the robber.
'What an asshole!! Can't they give some signals before shouting!? They have no social decency at all!! Fuck! People nowadays!'
He swallowed the complaint and raised his hands like everyone else.
One robber dragged the manager off to the vault. The other two held everyone hostage at gunpoint.
"Boss, why don't we loot these people too?"
One robber whispered to the burly man in charge.
"Look at that woman. All that jewelry. And these guys? They came to withdraw money. Why leave them?"
The boss thought a moment, then nodded.
"You're right. Go on. I'll watch."
The robber giggled, moving down the line, stripping people of wallets, jewelry, anything of value. Those who hesitated got a gun shoved in their faces and they folded the next second.
Dempsey's internal scream grew louder with every stolen purse and bracelet.
'What the fuck!? You came to robe the back not the people!! They are not contempt with what they have... greedy bastards...'
Dempsey internally cursed the robber for being too greedy. But he did do anything about it. He wasn't a stupid Karen who would argue with robber with a plasma gun for breathing too Lound!
Nope. Not at all! Dempsey was smart!
But his heart pounded as the robber neared. Sweat rolled down his temple. His arms were raised high, sore from holding them up. Even sorer was his chest, hammering like it wanted to explode.
'Uwaaah~ why today~?'
Dempsey internally cried in despair. But realised that he doesn't have anything on him at all.The robber stopped in front of him, plasma gun raised.
"Give me all your money bastard!"
"I—I don't have anything,I came to withdraw, haven't gotten it yet. Can you just... let me go?"
Dempsey stammered as he said.
"No can do. Hand it over. You've got something."
Dempsey stood slowly.
The robber frowned.
"Hands down or I shoot!!"
"Wait, wait! Look, I don't have a gun, nothing like that. Just showing you I've got nothing."
He shoved his hands into his pockets and pulled them inside out. Empty. Not even a bug was living inside a rent free place like his pocket which rarely stores money.
The last of his cash had gone on those damn bananas.
"See man? I'm broke. So broke that I can't even afford the paper you want... but I have a banana and a pair of lychee, wanna have'em?"
Dempsey said with a nervous innocent smile. Sweat plastered his hairline.
The robbrs eyes widened. He felt his dignity as a straight man being violated.
"Bastard!! You dare?!"
The slap came like a truck.
The impact rippled across Dempsey's face, skin vibrating like water struck by a stone. He spun through the air three times before he hit the ground face-first, legs flailing, then crumpled like a dead dog.
"What's wrong?"
The boss barked.
"Boss, this bastard wanted to feed me his banana! I say we teach him a lesson. Take him hostage, roughn him up when the cops come, dump him later."
Sirens wailed outside. Red-blue lights flashed through the windows.
The boss nodded.
"Good idea. Grab him. He'll be our decoy."
The third robber reappeared from the vault, hauling two bulging bags, grinning ear to ear.
"All right boys,"
The boss growled.
"We're leaving. Take the hostage."
Dempsey barely heard. His head spun, ears ringing, vision smeared. He tried to stand using the wall but collapsed, body refusing to listen.
'Move…!'
He screamed inside his own skull. But his body was stone. He even triggered Body Enchantment, but it barely made a difference—he was paralyzed, watching the robber's gun lower toward him. He was sure that the robber was coming this way to kill him.
'No. Not like this. I can't die here. I need to moved!! BODY MOVE!!'
He watched as as the robbers hand inching closer to him ins slow motion through his blury vision. The intense desire to move overwhelmed his being.
As if listening to his desperation, suddenly, his buzzing mind and blurry vision cleared.
His body listened.
He lunged sideways with all his might, skidding across the floor, smashing into the counter with an explosion of splinters and dust.
The robbers as well as the other hostage froze, dumbfounded. One moment they had a hostage. The next, he had vanished—and the reception desk had exploded.
Dempsey stood up, brushing dust from his clothes, equally stunned.
"You… you're a Hero?"
The boss stammered.
"Uh-Huh? Ah! Yeah!! I'm Dempsey!! The Hero!!"
He shouted with an exited voice and threw up a shaky fighting stance.
'The fuck did I even do?'
Inside however, he was confused just like everyone else.
'Oh mah goh~! What is this overwhelming power? This is Body Enchantment?'
But before he could think further, the shout of the boss robber rang out.
"Shoot him!"
Three barrels swung his way. The plasma pulsed, ready to fire.
Dempsey's heart skipped a bit. Instinctively, he moved to a random direction with all his might.
Dempsey's eyes widened. Everything moved on slow motion in his vision. He looked at the robbers lips slowly close. The direction he was going was towards the robber with money bag.
He quickly reached the robber. He crouched, the momentum carried him into a perfect punching position and punched the man in the gut.
The robber was yanked off of his feet as he folded around Dempsey's fist. Dempsey watched the ripple of kinetic energy flashed through the robbers body as blood sprayed from his mouth and vessels burst in his eyes.
A heartbeat later, he launched backward like a missile, embedding in the wall like a folded bread with a thunderous crack.
Gasps filled the bank.
Dempsey stared at his fist in disbelief.
"Bastard! You'll pay!"
The boss shouted, raising his weapon.
But Dempsey moved again and Time slowed again. He closed the gap, raised his hand and lightly slapped the man. He felt like he was pushing a paper down.
The boss crashed into the floor, tiles fracturing under the impact.
Carrying the momentum, Dempsey rub up to the last robber. He wanted to circle behind for a jump scare like high ranking heroes but his shoulder clipped the man instead.
The touch hit like a freight train, blasting him into the wall plastering him the for fee seconds before he slumped forward unconscious. The wall had imprint of the robbers body.
Silence fell.
Everyone stared at Dempsey. His own eyes were wide, trembling hands raised.
'So… my power really was OP all along!!'
Excitement surged through his heart. He felt the hope that was crushed by reality reignite. He clenched his fist, reveling in the energy coursing through his body.
Then he deactivated Body Enchantment. He stiffened and fell like a man shot with a teaser gun.
Agony followed instantly.
His muscles locked, his body convulsed. He stiffened, then collapsed, shaking violently as if electrocuted. Blood streamed from nose, mouth, ears, and eyes.
Every nerve screamed. His body felt like a balloon deflating, collapsing inward on itself after being stretched far past its limits.
He writhed, fingers clawing at the air. Pain chewed through him mercilessly.
Voices shouted. Policemen rushed toward him. Hands tried to steady him.
But before Dempsey could register their words, darkness claimed him.