"You could've killed him," I said while pointedly staring at the football player on the left.
"Fucker deserved it," he bit back, his tone and demeanor all hostility. He sounded young, likely a few years younger than me.
"What did he do?"
"Enough of this!" the one in the middle shouted. "Get out of the way and fuck off, freak."
"Fuck, he's running," said the one on the right.
I looked down and then behind me to see the guy hoofing it like his life depended on it. "Really?" I said out loud, before juking to the side all of a sudden.
Football player's fist sailed through where my head had just been and he staggered past me, an act I supported by kicking him in the ass.
"Argh… motherfucker!"
"We just wanted to tune him up, but we'll settle for you," the one I assumed to be the brains behind this whole thing said as he and the others moved to surround me.
They couldn't see it, but I had a smile on my face, their behaviour bringing to mind the words of a certain lunatic when he went to jail and the inmates there tried to gang up on him.
Things went into full swing when all three of them attacked at once. Proving they didn't in fact have me trapped, I simply jumped and soared above their heads, executing a backflip.
On the way down, I brought my knees down on the leader's back, driving him into the ground face and stomach first with an uncomfortable tumble against the pavement. I ignored his pained grunts and threw a left backfist and held my right hand open.
The fist slapped away the football star's grabbing attempt with an audible crack and the last guy's foot, which was headed for my head, ended up firmly in my grip. Instead of squeezing and ruining it though, I simply pulled and made him do a split.
"Aaghh!" He yelped and brought both hands to his crotch, leaving his face unprotected. A quick jab put him out of his misery and I stood up to face the last boy standing, or in this case, crying.
"Motherfucker! You broke my hand!" the giant whimpered.
I threw my hands up in a "what can you do" gesture and turned around to survey the scene. The leader wasn't unconscious. He was moving, moaning and shifting on the ground, but he wasn't getting up anytime soon.
Several of his ribs definitely had cracks in them.
Split guy would be fine, but I didn't know when he would wake up. Nor did I care. My job here was done. Even though it was super confusing as fuck. I still don't know what the guy did.
The footballer recoiled when I turned to ask him.
"Forget it," I shook my head and decided to leave.
Executing a straight jump, I latched onto the side of the nearby building with a single hand and used it as a pivot to swing my whole body onto the roof.
Once I was far enough away from the scene, I took off the helmet and went over the entire event, trying to point out any mistakes and things I could've done better.
"I found no problems with your performance. You saved that man's life and disabled the criminals with no serious injuries."
"Serious or not, those were injuries I could've avoided," I said and lowered the helmet. "Three quick jabs would've ended everything."
"Then why didn't you do that?"
"...I wanted to punish them," I said after thinking for a bit. "The kid who threw the rock could've killed that guy. And the one in the middle, so callous about organizing a beatdown and calling people names. It didn't feel right to let them off scott free."
"...I understand."
"Heh," I chuckled. "Sure you do."
"Really, I do."
Still doubtful, I decided to bite. "Explain then."
"If it was the police that had intervened, it would've been at a later time, and the rock throw would now be attempted murder at the highest estimate and involuntary manslaughter at the lowest.
As for the leader, his statement alluded to premeditation and intent to cause harm. Considering that without your intervention, the police would be dealing with the aftermath, I'd say you handled things perfectly."
Well, when you put it like that…
"...Thanks. Though going by that logic, it means I'll have to elevate the punishment to fit the crime, which is a slippery slope I have no intention of going down on."
"....Perhaps you were right. About choosing to be an agent instead of a superhero."
"...Maybe."
As though to put a full stop to our conversation, the main reason I was out here at midnight playing hero availed itself.
Action: Stop your first crime.
Reward: 50 CP.
"Mike, it worked. I just got a reward. I just got fifty points for stopping my first crime ."
"Looks like someone else agrees with your methods."
"Ugh, don't remind me." Still salty about the whole trickery—though the awesome powers and the passage of time had made things a bit better—I thought about things to do to get more points.
"Maybe stopping more crimes?"
"Doubt it. But it can't hurt to try."
Reinvigorated by the encouraging exchange I'd had with my friend and the arrival of the points, I donned my helmet for the second time that night and started another round of roof hopping and crime fighting.
.
.
.
.
Was it some kind of privilege that I didn't know those who worked menial jobs usually got paid weekly or biweekly rather than monthly?
Getting an answer without looking and sounding privileged would be difficult, so I kept my mouth shut and allowed myself to bask in the glow of the extra zeroes beautifying my bank account.
Sadly, those pretty numbers dropped harshly the same day. After spending my off time these past two weeks simply gathering and preparing parts, my tinker side demanded a more substantial result for its presence and efforts.
The initial plan had been to build my own pc once everything was set. However, the state of my chosen workshop forced me to direct my inventive juices elsewhere: a generator.
Since it had been closed for so long, the power bill for this place had long ran out, or so I assumed. Regardless, I needed electricity before I could proceed with anything else.
So using some of the parts I had sourced from pawn shops and the vehicles inside and outside the museum, I had built myself a small generator, taking less than a day to do so.
It had been quite easy really, especially due to the nature and operation of car engines having some overlap with the generator's fuel to energy conversion purpose. Using Tech-Adapting while window shopping generator models being sold also played a huge part.
"Here goes nothing," I muttered and held up the rechargeable lantern with one arm, the other bringing the mouth of the gallon to the mouth of the tank. "Mike, getting this?"
"Visibility is low, but I can see what you see."
"Great."
All my nerves, doubts and excitement and nerves shunted to the mental flame, I tilted the gallon and poured its contents into the bone dry tank. The amount of fuel wasn't enough to fill it completely, but that wasn't the goal here.
Setting the empty plastic container down, I moved over and flipped a switch connected to the battery responsible for powering the motor. With a subtle jolt and a faint roar, the carefully assembled junker came to life.
I had barely enough time to observe the faint hum the mechanical hubbub transitioned into before the light from the lantern in my grip got swallowed by the sudden illumination provided by the bulbs in the room.
"It lives," I grinned.
"It lives," Mike reiterated.
Action: Build your first item.
Reward: 50 CP. Maker Affinity (100 CP)
This day couldn't get any better.
"Mike," I smiled, setting the lantern down and turning it off. "I just got another 50 points, and it added with the previous 50 to give me a 100 point perk."
"...It seems our patron is interested in you trying new things."
"Yeah," I said with reduced enthusiasm. Picking up a screw driver, I poked the desk with it and thought about the patrolling I'd been doing since that first night. I had stopped more than ten crimes but I hadn't gotten anything else. "At least this narrows it down."
"So any new ideas?"
"Mmm, no. I'm thinking joining the Justice League in some capacity is a given right? That trip to Gotham too has to earn me something…" I trailed off, leaving out the part about me possibly finding and assassinating the Joker.
I still wasn't sure I wanted to descend into full blown murder for points. There were no delusions on my end about the path I'd chosen. Shield agents definitely killed people who were too dangerous to leave alive.
I'd have to do it at some point if I was serious about this, no question. That point however, wasn't coming anytime soon. At least, I didn't want it to.
"The power problem has been solved. What's next?"
"Build the pc. It's the next logical step. I have everything I need. Yesterday's bank notification really came in clutch," I said and stood up, moving towards an area I'd designated as storage and display.
Tables were nothing before my tinker abilities so of course I'd made a few of them. I arranged a couple of them in the corner of the workshop, each displaying all manner of doodads.
Stopping before the two tables I'd designated "computer," I picked up the parts I needed to begin and made a few trips back and forth before I settled right into it.
One week working the garbage sorting and the warehouse jobs, jumping from the night shift right to the day one had given me a pretty good idea of how much I could endure with regards to sleeplessness.
Upon getting off at six am from the waste recycling facility, I spent one hour cleaning up and making my way to the warehouse, where I'd work another four hours after which I was free for the rest of the day.
Naturally, I could afford to crash for hours after that, but that wouldn't be adequate stress for my superhuman physique. So I slept just enough to have the energy and focus needed to spend the rest of the day picking the cars in the museum clean.
Several days of doing this had led me to discover I could function just fine with 1 to 2 hours of sleep everyday. It wasn't comfortable, but manageable. Though on Mike's insistence and my own prudence, I elected not to make a habit out of it.
As with the creation of the generator, I got lost in the process, hours ticking by while things slowly but surely came together. Unlike how I spent an all nighter bringing it to life though, I took breaks with the pc.
Three times, Mike prompted me to eat and drink something, right after which I'd get some shut eye on a sleeping mat I bought last week. Friday through Sunday, I worked like this.
On the afternoon of the third day, I gazed with tired but proud eyes at what I'd accomplished. Two wide monitors sat side by side on a table I'd prepared specifically for them.
Wiping my hands with a rag and tossing it near the pile of tools, I tapped the keyboard and the screen came to life. The core unit of the system came from two old and damaged laptops I got for cheap from a pawn shop.
A little tinkering had gone into them to fix the salvageable parts, shrink them and the viable parts, and remove unneeded portions. Everything else had been built around them and resulted in a computer tower that looked more like a server, if a server had a little brother.
"First, to reprogram it," I said and removed Mike from my wrist, placing him on the tower. "I'll need your help to rebuild the operating system from the ground up."
For the second time since I got M and E, I dipped my fingers in code, improving the little mastery I'd gained in writing it from fiddling with my phone to make it less power, processor, and storage hungry.
In a little over three hours of nonstop work, we completed the software overhaul, the improved code quality calming down my risen tinker hackles. If I didn't have Mike, this would've taken me way longer.
Using my phone as a wifi hotspot, I connected the pc to the internet for the first time. Various protections came first and then came the browsing. For that, I left it to Mike as he was literally built for that.
"We have power and computing capabilities now. The next step is fabrication. We need more sophisticated and specialized tools," I said and gazed at the second screen, Mike's screen. "I also need to put the latest perk to use."
His hyperactive screen pausing for a bit, Mike said, "You didn't say what it does."
"I can learn anything related to the concept of 'making' at lightspeed. Also makes me attractive to women who are makers themselves."
"I'd say you sorely need the last part."
"I'll have you know women find me attractive just fine."
"Really? I have yet to see evidence of this."
"What? You want visual confirmation?"
"If it gets you out of here for a few hours, then yes."
"Don't think I can't see what you're doing."
"Trying to get my friend to celebrate a series of successful projects?"
I huffed. "Fine. I'll go. I wanna see Donna anyway."
"Is this about trying to prove women find you attractive?"
"What? No. Who gives a fuck about that? I'm just thinking of asking her out."
"So my previous diagnosis was right."
"What diagnosis?" I rolled my eyes. "Stop messing around. A few things, before I leave…"
"Listening."
"Three things actually," I said and held out three fingers. "Shops that sell 3D printers, consumer models and industrial grade ones. Books and courses on anything related to making stuff. I'm talking chemistry, engineering, hell, even fashion.
Last but not least, online coding gigs. I heard some talk about sites that offered them back in college. People were making bank. Do some research on any you can find and try some simple jobs. BE CAREFUL. Take things slow and don't draw attention to yourself. Got it?"
"Affirmative."
Nodding, I moved over to a table displaying a couple of phones I'd fixed. With the sudden arrival of my two weeks pay, the plan to sell them had been pushed back.
Quickly bringing up the specs of each to mind, I chose the most powerful one and hooked it to the pc, spending about fifteen minutes to set it up and turn it into a makeshift router.
With my phone free, I cleaned up as best I could and threw on my jacket. I definitely needed to make a stop at home before I went to The Nicenti Tavern.
"Keep me in the loop. I want to know of any updates."
"You got it boss," he responded, managing to sound enthused and sarcastic at the same time.
Already used to his antics, I paid it no mind, not even shaking my head and instead found the staircase that led to the roof. The fading light of the setting sun hit me when I stepped outside, the orange glow bathing me completely.
I let myself bask in the warmth and the light breeze for a moment, my eyes closed as I enjoyed the experience. Unfortunately, it was short lived. My coat pocket vibrated.
When I pulled out the phone and turned on the screen, I saw that Mike was the one responsible. He'd found some ebooks that covered chemistry from high school level all the way to college.
This was my fault, so I didn't even let myself get angry. "Let's keep the notifications to 30 minute intervals," I muttered while typing the reply. I hit send and stuffed the phone back.
It vibrated again not a second later, but I ignored it and went to the edge of the roof, jumping off of it without hesitation.
................................
Name: Maker Affinity
Description: You have a preternatural connection to the concept of making. You rapidly improve in your use of tools and skills. No science or craft field is beyond you. In fact, you absorb the knowledge like a sponge. You may not have perfect memory, but you're a walking data store of all arts, crafts, and science. Anything new you learn, you never forget. This Affinity endears you to possible romantic partners who fit the maker mold.
Cost: 100 CP
Source: Celestial Laboratory