Frizz felt sad and furious. He had thought he could handle those two carjackers, but a single shot was enough to stop his momentum. He had never felt humiliation like this before.
He had never felt fear like this before.
He couldn't care less about the crowd supporting him or the authorities' assurances. The one he cared about was the brush with death and the aftermath. He may have been a passive person, but he had an ego; he hated being seen as weak.
The interview was long and arduous; the authorities questioned Frizz's decision to stop the carjackers. The vehicle's owner was glad his car wasn't stolen, but Frizz heard the murmurs.
"If that kid had died trying to stop my car from being stolen, that would've put me in a lot of trouble. Why does everyone think that they're the hero?"
After the interrogation, Frizz asked for a copy of the incident. The hospital had a camera angle at the parking lot. The authorities obliged and sent him a copy via email.
"Thank you for your help, officer," Frizz said with a hint of dishonesty.
"We can give you a ride home," the kind police officer offered, smiling softly.
"No, it's fine." Frizz rejected, walking away from the police station with heavy steps.
The police officer stopped him, tugging his sleeves. "About those two who robbed you, they're very dangerous. If you do see them again, don't engage them. You may have good intentions, but you're not some movie character."
"This is real life."
Frizz blankly glared at the police officer. (If only you knew.)
"Thank you, officer. I won't do anything rash."
He got on his electric scooter, opened the little compartment near the dashboard, pulled out a spare key, and then headed home while occasionally gritting his teeth and cursing.
Twenty minutes later...
Frizz arrived at his house. He dismounted from his electric scooter and stared at the cloudy night sky. He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. He checked his watch, and it was now 11:01 p.m. He straightened his sling bag and approached the gate until a notification popped up before him.
[System]
Objective complete.
Rewards: 150 experience.
Level: 3 » 4.
Received: [Improved Telekinesis] -The perk user can manipulate their environment with their mind on an improved scale. The maximum lifting limit is now 25 kg within a 20-foot radius.
Frizz glared at the system notification with furrowed brows in disbelief. The first ever proper objective he acquired, and he failed, at least that's what he thought.
"What's the meaning of this?" He said, confused.
"Why did this pop up? I didn't stop them," he questioned, pausing for a moment. "Wait a minute." Frizz realized the result.
"They didn't manage to steal the car. They fled empty-handed. I was so focused on the '0/2' counter, thinking I had to fight them to complete the objective.
"But all I had to do was stop them from taking the car." He reasoned, finally understanding the 'true' objective, cursing his reading comprehension. He laughed, chuckling at the misunderstanding.
"All this time, I could've called the police or at least shouted at those idiots, and they would've bolted. How could I have been so dumb?" He lightly tapped his left temple, shaking his head.
The window of his house suddenly opened, spotting a familiar face. It was his older brother, Weng, who was annoyed by the muttering and mumbling.
"Shut up! Are you going to come inside? What are you talking about!?" his older brother shouted, closing the window shut with a slam.
Frizz's expression reddened, ashamed. "Ah, yeah, I'm coming." He opened the gate and parked his electric scooter. He entered the house, spotting his younger brother Ryan walking by.
"Ryan, bring me a can of root beer!" He ordered his younger brother, his expression excited, wanting to test his new and improved ability: telekinesis.
Frizz entered his bedroom, instantly collapsing on his bed, not bothering to change his clothes. The room was quaint and neat; not a single item was out of place. Inside was a computer in the corner and a small shelf filled with various books.
Mostly alternate history books.
He held out his hand and made the ceiling fan spin with his telekinesis. A huge grin was plastered on his face until he remembered what had happened earlier. Then his mood quickly soured; the mugging was still fresh on his mind.
"The footage should be in my email by now." Frizz rose, anger flickering in his eyes.
(I'm going to find those two and make them pay for humiliating me.)
"Here's your can of root beer," Ryan said, peeking in through the door.
"Put it on the stand," Frizz instructed.
Ryan set down the can and added. "Weng said that you should eat dinner; it's still warm."
"Already ate, not hungry, and close the door," Frizz said with a dismissive and annoyed tone. Ryan exited the room but didn't close the door.
"Damned brat, can't even do one thing right." He seethed, standing up to close the door, but instead chose to do so with telekinesis. He held out his hand, focusing and imagining closing the door.
*Slam!* The door slammed shut loudly.
"I need better control," Frizz said, turning to the can of root beer and summoning it to his hand. *Shoop!* The can flew into his grasp like a magnet.
(I didn't expect my system to upgrade my telekinesis perk. It would've been nice to get a new one instead of an upgrade but whatever. I have all the time in the world.)
"Just a little more, and I'll be the strongest." Frizz smacked his lips. He turned on his computer, opened his email, and there it was, a downloadable clip of earlier events.
(The police were already aware of him and his gang, yet they're still free. Incompetent pieces of shit.) Frizz cursed the police officers, seething.
Frizz slammed down the can of root beer. "Those two will regret crossing me; I will make them pay. Rob them blind and give them a taste of their own medicine."
Frizz downloaded and played the clip. The clip started around the time he raised his hands in surrender, a sight that churned his stomach and left him frustrated.
He suddenly closed the preview, unable to watch it any further. He tried zooming in on their faces, but it was blurry. (Damned government hospital cameras.)
Frizz turned off the computer and returned to bed, silently accepting the fact that it would take some time for him to get revenge. The anger still simmered within him, unable to properly vent it.
(Tomorrow's problems are for tomorrow's me), He thought, forcing himself to sleep.