Looking at the millions of exp required for the next level up he sighed it becoome more hard ,but he knew it isn't that troublsome as the game shop has a bunch of good items for that.
He opend the game shop and saw
[Item: EXP Booster (2x, 1 Hour)]
Effect: Doubles EXP gain from all sources for 1 hour
Price: 1,000 SP
[Item: EXP Booster (5x, 1 Hour)]
Effect: Multiplies EXP gain by 5 from all sources for 1 hour
Price: 10,000 SP
Luke whistled softly. "Ten thousand SP, huh? That's robbery." He tilted his head, scrolling through the item descriptions.
The 2x booster was reasonable—short bursts of grinding made it easy. But the 5x booster? That was the kind of thing you only bought if you had a mountain of SP lying around and wanted to watch your level bar explode.
This is the reason he didn't sacrifice the Hulk blood yet—he was sure it could give him EXP beyond sixty million. After all, the Abomination alone had given him fifty million.
His plan was simple: collect 10,000 SP, buy the 5x EXP booster, and then use the Hulk blood. That way, he could potentially pull in over a hundred million EXP, enough to jump four or maybe even five levels at once. Until then, the Hulk blood would remain tucked safely in his inventory.
"Now… Arcane Mantle?" Luke muttered, glancing down at his faintly glowing hand. Unlike in the game, where it was strictly an enhancement skill, this was reality.
And in reality, the rules weren't so rigid. If magic could enhance strength and defense, why couldn't it do more?
That's when a crazy idea hit him. What if I used mana to push myself upward? Could I… actually fly?
Humans have always longed for the sky. That was the whole reason planes were invented. He wasn't any different—he wanted it too.
"Let's try," Luke said, closing his eyes. Blue mana spread across his body like a thin aura. He focused it toward his feet, willing the energy to push him upward.
For a moment, it actually worked. His body was lifted from the bathroom floor, hovering slightly. But instead of a steady flight, it turned into total chaos.
He zipped around like a drunk mosquito, bouncing off the sink, slamming into the shower curtain, and spinning past the mirror before his momentum betrayed him.
The flight ended in disaster—his head went straight into the wall, sticking there like a rice plant shoved into the mud.
At least he wasn't hurt. Thanks to the mana coating, his body didn't even bruise. The defense was absurdly strong, even against his own clumsiness.
"What happened?"
The bathroom door creaked open, and Selene stepped in. She had followed the loud thuds and crashes echoing from inside, already half-prepared to find an enemy.
Instead, she found Luke—head first in the wall, body hanging awkwardly as if he had tried to headbutt the tiles into submission. His arms flailed for leverage, and dust crumbled down his shoulders.
"Is that you, Selene?" his muffled voice came from the wall. One hand pointed stiffly at his neck as though giving directions. "Come on, give me a hand here."
For a brief second, Selene just stood there, staring. Even in the bathroom, he manages to cause trouble. She narrowed her eyes, half-thinking about whether to actually help or just let him struggle for the lesson.
With a sigh, she stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Honestly," she muttered, giving a firm pull.
Luke popped free from the wall with a rough sound, staggering backward. He brushed off the plaster dust sticking to his hair and coat, forcing a sheepish grin. "Thanks. I was, uh… testing something."
Selene crossed her arms, one brow raised. "And the wall was your test subject?"
Luke chuckled awkwardly. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
Time passed, and Luke settled back into something resembling normal life—or at least as normal as it could get with his situation. Training, experimenting with his abilities, eating, sleeping beside Selene , he tried to keep things steady.
But elsewhere, eyes were still watching.
S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn't let go of the Harlem incident. A battle on that scale wasn't something they could ignore, especially with the destruction left behind. Their analysts worked around the clock, combing through every second of footage.
The problem was that the man at the center of the chaos—Luke—wasn't clear in the recordings. The heat waves, fire, and smoke distorted the images, leaving his face blurred. Still, S.H.I.E.L.D. was S.H.I.E.L.D. They didn't give up that easily.
Agents pulled camera feeds not only from Harlem itself but from streets blocks away, CCTV from banks, traffic cams, even shaky cellphone clips uploaded online. Piece by piece, they reconstructed the scene.
The breakthrough came from Natasha Romanoff. She had seen Luke's face once, though briefly. With her memory and field report, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s forensics team put together a rough sketch.
At first, they didn't seriously consider him a match for the Harlem "mystery fighter."
After all, the man in Harlem had unleashed walls of fire and blazing strikes that scorched everything around him.
By contrast, the man Natasha encountered in the college lab hadn't relied on fire at all—he had used something different, a strange tone-like defense that didn't match the Harlem footage.
But the comparisons began piling up. His build, his movements, the timing of his appearances—it all fit too closely. Frame by frame, side-by-side, the analysts aligned the Harlem battle footage with the surveillance shots of Luke moving through New York.
Finally, after days of careful work, the conclusion was undeniable.
The unknown combatant who went toe-to-toe with an Abomination… and the man Natasha had encountered in college… were the same person.
And for S.H.I.E.L.D., that meant one thing: Luke was now officially on their radar.