Shoutout to The Guy, Josh, and Taylor. Thanks!
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"Keep going."
So I did. Ran my knuckles across the ball of her foot. Let her calf rest across my knee. She clicked through channels like they were enemies in a side-scroller. Every few seconds, her thumb jabbed the remote, skipping something with explosions, then another with too much kissing. Finally, she stopped on a cooking show where someone in a ridiculous apron was trying to flambe shrimp while sobbing about his dead cat.
"People cry too much on these," she muttered.
"They do. But they are making shrimp, so I forgive them."
May chuckled, eyes still on the screen. Her foot flexed in my hands, ankle shifting. "You keep this up and I might not throw my other slipper at your face next time."
"How generous."
A minute passed. Neither of us said anything. On screen, someone started yelling about seasoning. May's leg twitched when I hit a sore spot near her heel.
"You are good at this," she said.
"Practice."
"On who?"
"Internet."
May gave me a side look. "Of course. The world's most trusted university."
"I got a degree in Footology."
She snorted and shifted, throwing her other leg into my lap like I was her designated masseuse. "You better not be developing a foot fetish. It is disgusting."
I rolled my eyes and pressed my thumb under her heel. "You literally shoved your feet to my nose just now."
She flicked the remote toward my head, "That is different. I get to bully you. You don't get to enjoy it."
"Trust me, I am not." I pressed my thumb under her heel and made her twitch. "If I ever do develop a kink for cracked heels and soap-resistant toe skin, please suffocate me with a slipper."
She raised her other leg and set it on my chest. "You are ungrateful. I could have been asking for a back rub."
"Next time just say that instead of launching your foot like a sleeper cell attack."
She smirked and leaned back. Her head hit the pillow, and she closed her eyes like I was a massage chair. May's foot pressed against my chest again, this time lighter. "You still stink."
"I showered."
"You smell like overcompensation."
"I call it 'success sweat.' Not available in stores."
She rolled her ankle in my hand and cracked one of the joints again. "You need to stop doing... whatever it is you are doing. You come home every day like you lost a fight to a lawnmower."
"That is oddly specific."
"You limped in once. Another time you had mud on your back. Who gets muddy in New York?"
"Someone adventurous."
"Someone suspicious."
"I will bring a hall pass next time."
May's leg dropped, foot landing on the cushion between us. She reached for her water and sipped like it was vodka. Then she stood up, leaned down, and kissed the top of my head.
"Be careful out there, right?"
"Always," I said, pretending the warmth from her lips didn't register like a checkpoint in my day.
She walked toward the kitchen, muttering something about washing that cream off her hands. I finished the pasta, left the plate on the coffee table, and headed for my room.
I jumped on the bed and called out, 'I gained reputation in today's quest, and I had some before. How did that cultivate the seed? Did I get anything?'
[System]: Ohhh~ baby, I have been waiting for you to ask that. You dropped a god-slaying save in broad daylight, charmed the pants off civilian networks, and now? That little Hero Persona Seed? It sprouted.
The interface blinked above me like a drunk disco light. Violet sparkles faded into a rotating symbol. Looked like a tiny spider mask surrounded by blooming arcs of gold and electric blue.
[System]: Growth detected! Hero Persona Seed has reached Stage 0.1. Congratulations! You are now officially a public rumor, a whispered name, a bedroom fantasy, and the subject of at least seventeen thirst tweets.
I sat up on the bed. "So what does Stage 0.1 even mean?"
[System]: Let mommy break it down, slow and sweet. Stage One unlocks passive influence. That means when people hear about "the Spider," they are slightly more likely to believe the hype. Rumors spread faster. Bystanders hesitate less when you yell "Get out!" during a crisis. And the best part?
LEVEL 0.1 – IMBIBITION
"The seed draws in. Rumors take root. The city watches."
SUB-LEVEL TRACKING:
Triggered after consistent public vigilante activity (recorded, shared)
Minimum 3 uploads with 100K+ views
Minimum 50 civilian witnesses across all acts
Recognized alias used consistently in public: Spider
PUBLIC STATUS:
Known across select boroughs
Online presence scattered but building: reuploads, reaction vids, reposts
Nicknames include: Spider, Web Devil, Jump Freak, Rooftop Ghost
Some civilians see you as a genuine protector
Others call you a clout-chasing nutjob with a GoPro and aggression
LEVEL 0.1 ABILITIES & EFFECTS:
Persona Trait: "Urban Germination"
Your name "Spider" begins to take root as a local identity.
All vigilante content featuring your name now gains +20% discovery spread across local algorithm nodes.
Passive Skill: "Adrenal Spike (I)"
First 3 minutes of public combat receive a +10% damage bonus
Applies only when visible audience is present (physical or digital)
Bonus stacks with adrenaline presence from spectators or viral activity
Passive Skill: "Scavenge Field I"
You become instinctively aware of dropped or discarded urban tools.
10% increased chance to locate:
• Zip-ties
• Pliers
• Loose wires, zipline scrap, makeshift tools
Can now create temporary utility items (e.g., lockpick from trash, sling from cord) once per patrol
NEXT STAGE: LEVEL 0.2 — GERMINATION
Stage Theme: "The seed splits. The shoot rises. More than a whisper now."
Requirements:
• Minimum 10M total online views across all platforms
• At least hundred people filmed your fight unprompted
• 50 donation boosts during a recorded patrol
• Presence mentioned in local radio/news or bulletin article
[System]: Oh baby~ you are halfway to becoming myth. Just a few more uploads, a few more heart attacks, and this city won't be able to take a piss without whispering Spider.
I sat up, rubbing the side of my face with the heel of my palm. "Scavenge Field, huh?" I said under my breath. "So now I am basically a sexy raccoon."
[System]: Mmm~ and you make trash look so damn good.
"Adrenal Spike makes sense. I feel like I move faster when people scream."
[System]: That is the performance anxiety kicking in, sugar. Mixed with a little public praise kink. But hey, who does not want to be filmed while dominating?
"So right now," I said, "I am just... known?"
[System]: More than known. You are noticed. Your name is trending. Your ass has at least one Reddit thread. People are guessing your weight class. Debating your mask design. Betting on your species.
"Species?"
[System]: Some think you are a mutant. Others say you are an alien. One guy insists you are a radioactive gymnast who got ghosted by circus.
I walked to the mirror. Same reflection. Hoodie half off, hair a mess. A faint red mark on my collar from Mrs. Thompson's teeth. "So if I start becoming viral enough... this Persona grows?"
[System]: Like a boner during prom night, sugar. You grow, your powers mutate, and the city wraps itself around your myth. One day you won't just wear the mask. You will be the symbol.
I pointed at the mirror. "Don't go full Batman on me. I don't have the jawline for it."
[System]: True. But you do have the ass. And the sarcasm. That is worth something.
I was not in the mood to go out that night. My bones still remembered what a rib-crushing uppercut from Asgardian death armor felt like, and my shoulders popped every time I lifted my arms. But territory was territory. Reputation was fertilizer for the Hero Seed, and nothing grew without sweat.
I spent hours swinging over rooftops, yanking muggers off their feet, ripping open car doors like discount action figures, and dragging drug runners face-first into alley walls. Some screamed. Some pissed themselves. A few called me the devil.
Good.
By the time I got back, it was past midnight. I peeled off the suit, wiped off the blood that was not mine, shoved a protein bar in my mouth, and collapsed into bed.
Next morning, school sounded like a horny barbershop. Every hallway buzzed with the same topic. Not tests. Not sports. Muscles. Specifically, tall blond muscles.
Zoey walked past me with a half-eaten apple and said, "Did you see that hammer guy online? Thor or whatever?"
I blinked at her. "No, I was busy studying like a responsible academic citizen."
"Liar," she said, grinning. "Everyone saw it. The lightning. The abs."
"I only study thoracic anatomy. For science."
I slid into homeroom just before the bell. Half the class was already on their phones, showing blurry screenshots of Thor mid-fight, mid-fly, mid-thirst-trap. Someone even printed out a meme that read "Hammer Me Daddy" and taped it to the whiteboard.
Flash entered five seconds later and threw his backpack like it offended him. "Man, that guy's not even from here. Just drops in, steals our heroes' jobs, zaps some toaster robot, and everyone wants to lick his boots."
"No one wants to lick your boots, Flash," said Liz from the second row.
He ignored her. "Bet the whole thing was fake. Staged. Like that masked freak too. Spider or whatever."
I yawned so loud, Flash turned around. "You got a problem? Bet you didn't even hear."
"Not even slightly," I said, kicking my feet onto the empty chair in front.
He looked like he wanted to say something else, but the teacher walked in with a stack of quiz papers.
Midway through class, MJ tossed a crumpled paper at the back of my head. I caught it, unrolled it, and read the single line:
Would you let Thor rail you for science?
I sighed loudly. We were fighting the other day, then decided to become pals, and now she was teasing me about this? She was asking for it.
I grabbed my pen, scribbled under her note, and folded it neatly.
"I would rail you to test Earth's crust durability. Wanna go?"
Passed it back.
[System]: Mmm~ tectonic thrusting, baby. I could write a thesis on that line. Geology just got sexy.
She opened it mid-math explanation, and her face twitched like I had just dared her to drop out of school and study geology with her legs in the air.
She didn't write back. Just turned around. Shoulders stiff. Her jaw locked like she was trying not to smile, or scream.
Then she started scribbling something fast. Passed it without looking.
"You are disgusting."
I scribbled.
"So that is a no to the crust test?"
She flipped me off under the desk. I caught it. Made a kissy face.
Flash caught the exchange. Narrowed his eyes like his brain was trying to do algebra with half the alphabet missing. He leaned forward.
"What are you two passing? Love notes?" he said.
"Remedial grammar," I replied without turning. "Want in? You still spell your name with a Crayola set."
He glared. MJ pretended to be very busy highlighting her worksheet. Liz choked on a laugh.
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You can read up to Chapter 95...
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