Chapter 225 – Floor 40: Part 1

  Foor 40: Of Heroes and Villains (Part 2)

  You have gained some small amount of legitimacy by joining the League of Heroes. As a Rank ‘D’ hero, you do not have the credibility or influence to build the ‘Prime Tower.’

  Goal: Obtain Rank ‘C’ within one months time.

  Reward: +1 Level of ‘Speaker’ Discipline.

  Mathew lowered the silver wristband on his arm as he read the message there. He had gained the ability to level ‘Speaker’ allowing him to increase his Attributes and heal his wounds for the first time in dozens of Floors.

  He just lacked the Aether.

  Mathew could sense the Aether around him, waiting to be collected by completing the goals the Tower assigned him. He instinctively knew that by performing heroic deeds in this world, he would accumulate some Aether to spend in the Shop and potentially on levels.

  Looking around for a moment, Mathew began to walk down the street to a building the League had directed him to that would provide him housing for as long as he was a member. As a Rank ‘D’ hero, it wouldn’t be much but at least it was close to the heart of the city and the people at the HQ would know where to contact him.

  Higher ranked heroes would have better lodgings, some were even in the headquarters themselves. They would also be called upon when needed. Without having the necessary experience, Mathew was told that it would be up to him to prove himself by assisting other heroes or finding ways to contribute on his own.

  Tired after a long day, Mathew entered his assigned room that was similar to a hotel just down the street. After showering and getting something to eat from the restaurant downstairs, he returned to his room to sleep.

  Page Break

  After a restful night, Mathew work to the gentle light filtering through the curtains. He stretched, feeling rejuvenated, and decided to grab breakfast from a nearby corner shop he’d spotted the night before. The League had given him a card for expenses, with a pitifully low limit to reflect his Rank ‘D’ Unnumbered status.

  The aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods wafted through the air as he stepped inside the café, the small space bustling with morning customers all getting something to eat and drink before work. Mathew ordered a steaming cup of coffee and a toasted bagel before finding a spot by the window of the shop.

  While enjoying his breakfast, Mathew watched the people passing by on the street, and a sudden commotion caught his attention. A hooded figure was running down the street, weaving their way through the crowd while they clutched a purse in their arms.

  A woman was screaming in the distance and pointing, while a police officer was already in pursuit.

  ‘A purse snatcher.’ Mathew thought as he set down his coffee and pointed out the window.

  “Shift.” He commanded, switching places with a bystander on the street. The confused pedestrian, an older woman in a business suit, suddenly appeared in the café while Mathew replaced her just ahead of the hood figure.

  Casually, he pointed at the thief and spoke the Celestial Language once again.

  “Halt.” He ordered, using one of the many new words that he had learned during his time training with the Celestials.

  As Mathew spoke the Word of Power, a wave of energy surged through him, radiating outward. An oppressive force descended onto the thief, settling onto their body like a weight. The thief halted abruptly, the force pressing down on them, preventing them from moving an inch.

  While the Police Officer ran toward them, Mathew plucked the purse from the frozen thief’s hands and tossed it to the officer. Slightly taken aback by the sudden turn of events, the uniformed cop caught the purse awkwardly.

  “Thanks. Hero?” The officer asked. After Mathew nodded and showed his identification card, the police officer took the thief away while promising to let the League know of his help. Mathew returned to the café to find that his coffee had been removed by the employees who had thought he was done.

  Reordering, he sat back in the same place to enjoy it.

  Page Break

  The Villain ‘Brutus’ loomed in the center of Silverstone National Bank, a monstrous figure whose presence turned the atmosphere of the lobby into a suffocating shroud of dread. Standing over eight feet tall, he was a manifestation of raw, unyielding power.

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  His muscles rippled beneath his tattered grey hood and oversized sweatpants; the clothing could barely contain his mass as each movement threatened to rip apart the material.

  The air was thick with tension, punctuated by blaring alarms that echoed through the lobby, but Brutus reveled in the chaos. He was unstoppable, he was invincible!

  He had personally killed over a dozen Heroes, some of them ‘A’ Class, and the League had often overlooked his actions unless they had people capable of stopping him available. The last time they had brought an ‘S’ class but the risk to civilians had been too great and he had managed to escape through the sewers before they could get reinforcements.

  Panic surged through the crowd of customers and Bank employees as Brutus smashed his way through the thick concrete walls, a metal gate and reached the vault. He hoisted the heavy vault onto his shoulder with an almost casual motion. The safe was as large as a car and the metal groaned under the strain, but Brutus carried it as if it were nothing more than a ornament.

  The sight of the Villain walking his way out of the Bank with the safe was both terrifying and, in a way, awe-inspiring.

  A faint, otherworldly glow shimmered across Brutus’ skin, the mana inside him intertwined with his muscles, amplifying his strength and granting him abilities that surpassed human limitations. Each step he took sent tremors through the ground.

  Outside, the wail of sirens began to fade, the sounds of law enforcement being given the order to back off after receiving a report of who they were up against. They would just be giving up their lives for nothing if they faced Brutus without a Hero.

  A wicked grin spread across his rugged face as Brutus imagined the havoc he was about to unleash. It wasn’t about the money; he could really just take whatever you wanted without it. It was the chaos that he thrived on.

  His heart raced with exhilaration at the thought of who the League would send against him. Maybe he would finally have a chance at fighting a ‘SS,’ although there were only three in the Eastern United States, and he wasn’t sure if any were in New York at the moment.

  With the sound of retreating sirens fading into the distance, Brutus stepped outside, the cool air hitting his skin. He paused outside, invigorated by the thought of the coming battle. The streets were filled with screams as people were running away, the police were directing them to evacuate.

  Brutus revelled in it. He could imagine the headlines that would soon be displayed on the television screens and billboards throughout the city. Brutus Strike Again: Is any Hero a Match for him? The notoriety thrilled him and he considered it a badge of honour.

  Standing in the middle of the street, the pavement cracking under his weight, he hefted the vault above his head and slammed it down. The force of the blow sent shockwaves through the street, and windows of buildings all around him exploded into fragments of glass.

  He let out a roar, a primal scream of anger and excess energy. He could feel the desire to fight and unleash violence swelling within him and he was nearly desperate for an outlet.

  “Well, aren’t you a big one.” A voice said, cutting through the silence that had descended after his yell ended. Brutus turned to look down the street, where a young man was casually walking in the center of the road.

  He was handsome and thin, with pale, perfect skin and a handsome face. Wearing jeans and a black jacket, he looked completely unaffected by the panic that had gripped the surroundings. Brutus didn’t recognize him, which meant that if the young man was a Hero, he wasn’t a high-ranked one.

  “Send me someone worthy!” Brutus roared. Picking up the vault with both hands, Brutus hurled it toward the young man. The safe was large enough that, to the young man, it must have seen like it was blotting out the sun.

  Brutus grinned in anticipation of flattening this cocky bastard into a paste. Maybe if people saw how strong he was and how ready he was to kill, they would send him an ‘SS’ hero.

  The young man calmly watched the safe arc into the air, its metallic frame making a ‘whooshing’ noise as it sailed above him. He slowly raised his right hand and pointed at it.

  “Slow.”

  The word sounded strange to Brutus, as if it wasn’t coming from the young man’s mouth but from the world around him. It vibrated through the air, and, to his shock, the vault’s descent slowed to a crawl. It was as if time itself obeyed the young man’s command.

  Brutus watched the safe slowly descend until it nearly reached the young man, who nonchalantly stepped out of the way. The vault came to rest on the ground without damaging it at all.

  “Alright, come quietly to the police station.” The young man instructed Brutus, clearly expecting to be obeyed.

  Brutus was flabbergasted, shocked that someone would talk to him like that. He was Brutus! He was the strongest. He was invincible. He would be the first to kill a ‘SS’ Hero!

  Anger flared up in him, white-hot in its intensity. His vision turned red, and before he knew it, he was sprinting toward the young man. Raising his hands into the air, he clenched his fists in preparation for annihilating this arrogant prick!

  Instead of looking concerned, or fearful, or shocked like Brutus expected, the young man shook his head sadly. He raised his hand and pointed at Brutus.

  “Heavy.” The young man said, and Brutus felt a weight settle onto his body that was many times greater than the bank vault had been. His knees buckled, and he felt his feet break through the pavement. Each step was agony, and soon he was buried into the ground up to his waist.

  Seeing that he wasn’t about to stop, the young man spoke another word.

  “Light.”

  Brutus felt weightless, and a new sense of buoyancy lifted him up out of the ground. He began to tumble and spin as he was plucked out of the pavement and earth and sent careening into the air. He tried to grab onto anything around him, but he couldn’t reach it.

  “Ready to surrender yet?” The young man called out, and Brutus’ reply was a mix of angry words and curses. His tirade echoed off the walls of the buildings around him as he slowly began to rise higher into the air.

  “That’s too bad. I’ll just leave you here until you’re ready.” The young man called out, already turning around and walking toward the police cars in the distance. When they returned with a special containment vehicle designed to hold him, they found Brutus hanging in the air where the young man had left him.