It was a normal hectic Friday afternoon…
"Why the fuck do I feel like I'm forgetting something?" A crestfallen looking middle aged man whispered to himself.
'Well, it really doesn't matter, as there's nothing more important than filling my belly with some good food!' This crestfallen middle aged man beamed like a guy in his twenties, wiping drool off of his mouth for good measure.
Well, in all honesty, he really is a man in his mid twenties, no kidding. His whole persona just does not give off the youthful energy it should. With his faded cargo pants, plain t-shirt, and that disheveled hair, and his overall gloomy vibe? Does that scream twenty something to you? If it is, then you should also realize that his face… uhh… can we just not talk about his face…
Then, let us just talk about his other assets, if those even pass as such.
He slouches. He is an alcoholic. He does not take a bath, as it is, he said, the way of legends. He is… wait… what I'm saying aren't really assets…
Well let us just forget about that… and not get fixated on this whole 'asset' thing…
The man is currently moving along one of Manila's main thoroughfares, until a sudden wave of realization hit him. He screamed shortly thereafter.
"Dammit! What did I do to deserve this! Have I been a bad person?" All the pores on his body opened up and his sweat poured like buckets. He even kneeled and held his face with his hands.
With a random scream act like that, everyone in the vicinity is bound to give you piercing looks, like you are some sort of a lunatic. What's worse... the foot traffic on pay-day Fridays in Manila is horrendous…
He managed a quick scan of the crowd before sighing, 'these people are so quick to judge! I have not even done anything that stupid yet!'
"Bro, why are you yelling in the middle of the street? Are you stupid?" A random school kid hollered.
Everyone saw how much the guy's face fell even more after hearing that, but right when everyone thought he was about to retort, he broke into a run after crouching down to a sprinter's starting pose instead.
"He's stupid." The kid added, garnering a wave of agreement from the walking crowd.
Well, the kid is right.
He weaved his way through heavy pedestrian traffic like a leaf in the wind. His speed is remarkable, which makes it hard to believe that he looks like an out of shape NEET. His incredible speed is shocking to a degree that when fellow pedestrians turned to face him, all they could catch were his bad smell… no, I mean, his tailwind…
Astounded faces and a rush of strange emotions could be seen in the streets he passed by.
"God, that guy is so swift… it's just too bad he's foul-smelling too!"
"Mama, you said many Superhumans don't need to eat, does that mean they don't need to shower too?"
"That must be a criminal… what a waste of Superhuman abilities…"
"Hi, is this the police? There's a Super here that's making a ruckus… I am at 9th street. He's fast so he might be gone when you get here."
These people have no idea that in the head of this random Metahuman, is just loads of bullshit.
But he is putting on a show, albeit not what he intended, for the walking masses. That is because his current speed clocks at an average of a little under forty miles an hour, which is bonkers.
You can look at it this way. He is running at a pace of less than six seconds per one hundred meters, or less than a minute per kilometer. That… is ridiculous… even for normal Superhumans. What is even more ridiculous, is that his pace is further rising, instead of falling!
Many of them have never been in the presence of one of the Supers before, because even in this day and age where Metahumans are revered everywhere, they are still not the type you can see just about anywhere. That is why even if they do not know who it was, they know it was one of them, as only them can have that kind of cheat speed.
A Superhuman!
"A real one! In the flesh!" As this enigmatic stinky Superhuman rounded off another street, jaws continued dropping, eyes continued sparkling, and noses stopped breathing.
These people's collective emotions though, can't stop whatever dumbassery is going on inside the Superhuman's head.
'I gotta rush even more! It's about to start!' This guy is clearly out of it. He is so tunnel-visioned he actually has no idea what the hell he is doing.
'But wait… why do I feel like I'm doing something I'm gonna regret later…"
Wow, look at him. He actually realized it! Great job chap!
'Yes… hmm… dammit! If only I can take back time! I'm in all sorts of trouble!'
I underestimated you this time, not gonna lie. I thought your mental capacities are so far gone at this point that I—
'I fucking forgot to buy squid for calamari!!! Everything seems less fun now....'
You have got to be kidding me with this bloke! You totally missed the bloody point!
You're gonna be in all sorts of trouble? For what? Not buying squid? It seems like your mental capacities are really so far gone… because that should be the least of your concerns right now!
'Dammit… just thinking about eating it makes me feel like a great sage ascending the heavens.'
No. There's no way you're ascending the heavens. Look at you! You're disappointed one second, and drooling like a demonic cultivator from some heretic sect the next!
Wait how can one even drool while running at that speed?
He really is a Superhuman!
***
Several more minutes later…
The Superhuman has arrived at the base of a ten storey tenement complex. One look and you will figure out that this is in the poorer part of the city. The more than five hundred rooms house at least one and a half thousand of the poorest people of the city.
This is not a place for Supers.
"Wait, is that the viral Superhuman?" A random onlooker compared the photos on her phone to the guy leaning on a wall as if resting in front of her.
"He sure looks like it… see that bad hair, bad smell, bad looks, bad fashion sense, bad body…" the guy beside him prattled on about the similarities between the guy in front of them and the guy in the quickly famous video.
"Wait, they say he is a Superhuman, right? How can a Super live in a shabby place like this one? All of them are filthy rich, are they not?"
People nowadays have a distorted view on Superhumans. Surely they are now at the peak of the human pecking order, but it should be a given that at least some of them did not win in life, right? Why can't the world's strongest be poor? Is there a written rule about it?
No!
But wait… it actually makes sense though, since most of the world's Superhumans are heroes. Heroes are not only popular, but also revered, respected, and of course… has loads of money.
When you think about it that way, combined with their overpowering levels of physical, magical, and sometimes cheat-like abilities, would a regular human that had always dreamed of being one really think that there is ever a poor Super?
No!
"Maybe he is one of those… you know, those filthy bastard Free Supers? Let us report him to the Alliance." The male jumped into that conclusion after realizing what seemed wrong with this one and made a call.
The Superhuman finished his one minute cooldown right around the time the male onlooker finished his phone call. He went into a runner's crouched starting position, and looked at his watch. As if a mental gunshot was fired, he suddenly burst into another run into the tenement.
"Fuck! It is almost five! I'm gonna miss the anime intro!"
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