After a few months of hitting the gym to get some workouts in. At first, he had only been going for light workouts, but as the days went by, Tom had noticed significant changes in his body. His arms were starting to look more defined, and his chest was starting to look bigger. He could even see the beginnings of a six-pack starting to form on his stomach.
He was ecstatic about the changes he was seeing in his body. As he looked at himself in the mirror after a workout, he couldn't help but feel proud of the progress he had made in such a short amount of time. He knew that there was still a long way to go, but he just wanted to get in shape and not pursue the physique of a bodybuilder.
He resumed his daily activities once more, he would often have classes during the day and then head straight to his shift at the bar in the evening. The bar was located in a bustling area of the city, surrounded by shops and restaurants. It was a popular spot for both locals and tourists alike.
His shift was adjusted and now started at around 5pm unlike when it was previously 4pm, and he would be in charge of tending the bar, taking orders, and serving drinks. The bar had a wide selection of beers, wines and cocktails, and he had to know how to make them all, especially the ones with names that didn't make any sense. He had to be quick on his feet, multitasking and making sure that all the customers were well taken care of.
On a typical night, he would be greeted by the usual suspects, the regular customers who would come in for a drink and a chat after work so they could let off some steam. He would remember their names, their favorite drinks and would often join in on the conversations when he had to.
As the night progressed, the bar would start to fill up with people looking for a good time, people in search of a way to forget their sorrows temporarily or wish to drink off the day's fatigue.
The music would get louder, the laughter would get louder and the atmosphere would become electric. He would work tirelessly, mixing drinks, taking orders, and making sure that everyone was having a good time.
Yes he had more than enough money and didn't need the job or the unnecessary stress as he now had another which paid better and all that was needed for now was his brain, but he does it because it might be his alibi someday when he becomes a suspect regarding a criminal case. After all, he had stepped into the world of criminals.
He had been wondering when Leo would bring another job his way which needed his expertise, in order to become the perfect criminal mastermind he needed to learn how the criminal underground works. Leo had been educating him slowly and teaching him the kind of jobs to accept and the ones to decline. The type of people he could do jobs with and the ones to avoid because some might be undercover cops. He needed to learn how to read people even when they try to put up a front and working at a bar was really helping him do so.
Despite the chaos, he loved the energy of the bar on the weekends. He enjoyed the music, the laughter, and the buzz of conversation. He felt like he was part of something special, a carefree community which he had never experienced before and it gladdened him. He was proud to be a part of it and would protect that lifestyle so if he ever got compromised, the bar wouldn't be affected. Maybe the people had really grown on him, for a selfish person to start caring for others other than himself was a real surprise to him.
On weeknights, the bar would be less crowded, and he would have a little more time to breathe. He would take a little longer on each order, and he would chat with the customers a little more which helped him become a little more sociable with strangers. He would often spend his breaks sitting at the bar, talking to the regulars and catching up on their lives. Everyone knows that's basically what bartenders do aside from serving or mixing drinks. He was never bored each time he was there at the bar and when a person enjoys their job as much as he did, it longer becomes a job but just plainly how he spent his evenings and while being paid for it.
One of his regular customers was an older man named Henry. Henry was a retired businessman who came to the bar every weeknight for a drink and a chat. Tom and Henry had become friends over the months, and Tom looked forward to Henry's visits. Henry would tell him stories about his life and his travels, and Tom would listen in awe. Getting to learn how life in the DC verse was from other people's perspectives other than his own,and damn it was a hell of a mess.
Everyone is looking over their shoulders not knowing when the aliens might decide to attack again or when a villain might just decide to go on a psychotic killing spree for personal reasons.
At the end of the night, Tom would often be exhausted but content. He had earned his pay, he had learnt something new from a stranger, and he had fun. He walked in the direction of his home, his pockets full of tips, and his head full of the memories from that night with the customers. Even though he knew that he would do it all again tomorrow, he still tries to live in the moment.
…
The next day started like any other day, only that it was a rainy day, the cold wind blew through the air as it had Tom wanting to go back to sleep. But he needed to get up, it was another day he had set aside to explore his powers a little more and see what he was capable of.
He did his morning workouts which just consisted of push ups and sit-ups, with a little arm coils with his dumbbells.
Tom walked down to his basement which he had turned into his training ground. The deflective field which he was able to activate both consciously and unconsciously he wanted to know if he could manipulate its form and learn how to do so.
Since it was a solid field which did not allow any foreign thing that might cause him harm come through it, he thought about controlling and focusing it around a region of his body.
He knew his deflective field was still too weak to stop a bullet without proper concentration, so he thought of focusing it around a particular region of his body so he could easily focus on the density of the field and manage to stop a bullet until he was strong enough to do it casually.
He took a firm stance in the middle of the basement then closed his eyes to focus on his will and materialize what he had in mind.
He produced the field around him but it just surrounded him and did not go to the region he envisioned it. Tom then stretched out his right hand and clenched his fist. He closed his eyes again and imagined the field like wind gathering around his fist in a circular motion, like an orb but with his fist within it.
He suddenly opened his eyes to look at his fist but could not see the field but he could feel it, Tom then tried to key into the feeling it gave him and pushed a little further.
His right arm was completely immersed in the field and he could feel just how well protected that arm was but how vulnerable he had left other parts of the body. He increased the density of the field as he focused on it like a transperent body shield no one could see not even him, at least not yet anyway as he only had the feel for it.
As he successfully increase the density of the field around his arm, he walked over to a wall and decided to test just how firm it was. Fully confident in his own resolve, he took a solid stance then used all his might to punch a side of the basement wall as it left little cracks stretching across it and without it having any form of contact with his skin.
It was as though it modified the strength in that arm too but that wasn't the case, it was a strength which was a result of both the speed and magnitude directed towards the wall. It was a product of his ability as a vector manipulator but he wasn't quite aware of the yet.
Surprised at the spark of progress he made with his powers his jaw dropped in awe of the brute strength he just unleashed, he decided to test its durability considering that it was taking a lot of focus to the keep the field that dense and also to keep it around that arm region.
He needed to train some more so he could focus the field around a particular region on the body and also to make it dense with just a thought or subconsciously. The strength which came along when he punched the wall felt strange and he intended to pay more attention to it so he could know exactly why his punch was that heavy, he knew he wasn't as strong as that physically or had a monstrous strength.