Chapter 13
Two AM, the club was full to bursting. Michael was standing as menacingly as he could in his corner, scanning the room with his senses, all of them, but seeing nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, the night was going surprisingly well all things considered: he had warned a couple of young boys that smoking was forbidden on the dance floor, after which he showed them the smoking area, and he stopped a couple of other guys from groping the butt of every attractive girl they saw, but nothing more than that. People didn't seem very eager to get into a fight, contrary to his—admittedly very limited—knowledge of places such as this.
He was also keeping a tight grip on his mana, skills ready to flare at a moment's notice, noticing that some of the mana seemed to leak into his aura, stretching it and bolstering it. Whenever someone got close to him, his aura reacted to them, but he had no idea what this interaction meant.
As for his skills, at most he could use the [Distortion Field] in bubble mode, but there was always the chance that the strobing lights wouldn't be enough to hide it. He didn't think he needed it, to be honest, but one could never know.
Unknown to him, close to his corner of the dance floor, someone's phone beeped. The young man tapped his two friends in the shoulder, making them turn towards him and showing them the text message he had received.
"Woah, man, fifty bucks just to cause a bit of a ruckus? I'm in!"
With that, the three began to act. The one who had received the message wound up a fist and struck a random guy square in the face, making him fall. Around him, the other two were causing similar mayhem, shoving people left and right, spilling drinks and slapping girls in front of their boyfriends. Mere seconds later, it turned into a nasty brawl.
Up in the VIP section, Old Dave had gotten to his feet, leaning on the safety railing, watching.
Michael noticed the commotion barely a few moments after the first punch had been delivered. The struck person was on the floor, and two other people were shoving everyone they could see, clearly drunk and laughing their assess off. A ring had formed around them, but already other people were being dragged into the melee, be it to retaliate or to defend their friends or girlfriends, turning the sight ugly.
What the hell is going on? Michael barely had time for thoughts before he was forced to swallow his reticence and fear of being at the center of attention and started to move. Already adrenaline was flooding his system, making him jumpy and his hands itchy. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but a part of him had been looking forward to this ever since the night began. Let's see how I handle things in the real world.
He was upon the three in a matter of seconds, shoving everyone else away with the authority granted to him by his shirt, SECURITY written in big bold white letters everywhere it could be read. Seizing the full 7 Copper coins worth of his mana pool, he stared down at the three, who had not even noticed his arrival.
"Hey, what do you think you are doing?" He yelled at them, noticing how some of his mana had slipped into his voice, making it more powerful. He kept the trickle of mana going, forcing more of it into his voice, and his aura, creating something that even he could feel. Presence.
Certainly the three felt it, for they turned to face him immediately, their previous fight forgotten. They seemed to cower for a moment, but then their leader shook off his head as if to clear his thoughts, standing up to full height and puffing up his chest, even though he was a bit shorter than Michael.
"What do you think you are doing, bodyguard?" The young man spat, and the other two laughed. "It's three of us against you. We could beat you up!"
They all laughed at that. Michael looked around. Indeed, he was alone, the other bouncers seemingly ignoring the commotion as if nothing strange was happening.
"Listen, I saw you start swinging your fist left and right. That's not tolerated." He said, grabbing the leader by the shoulder, "why don't you—"
The young man pushed off his hand and took a swing at him. Michael saw it coming in slow motion, time stretching itself until the punch was so slow he simply had to step to the side to avoid it. The floor was slippery, and the young man had overextended himself, so with a simple push Michael had him sprawled at his feet, groaning. Then, seizing his mana again and infusing it into his aura, fueled by his now righteous anger, he addressed the others.
"Come with me peacefully, or you're in for a beating, you hear me?"
You have gained a Skill!
You now know how to infuse mana into your aura, creating pressure. The larger the difference in power, the more those weaker than you will cower in fear.
He dismissed the skill window. Now is not the time.
Activating the skill, he saw the pressure spread to the three like a wave with him at the center. Suddenly all their defiance was gone, and they were standing still like deer caught in headlights, unmoving, with the rest of the club similarly still, at least those around them, watching them with interest and curiosity. Michael was suddenly conscious of it, and the anger and adrenaline left him, leaving him with a sense of urgency.
"Did you not hear me? Out!"
He grabbed all three of them, pulling the fallen one to his feet with a jerking motion, and dragged them all away. They are not even struggling anymore, is this the effect of the skill?
There were two bouncers waiting for him at the edge of the dance floor, muscular brutes with huge arms and prominent bellies, faces permanently scrunched up in menacing frowns.
"We'll take it from here."
Michael was about to open his mouth to speak, but the other bouncer beat him to it. "The boss says good job. You can return to your place, but I'd expect no more trouble the rest of the night. Not after that. Impressive work."
He gave Michael a meaty thumbs up, his thumb the size of a sausage, before they dragged the three problem children away and to the back. Not knowing what to say, Michael simply went back. True to what the bouncer said, the rest of the night passed without incident, most people—especially the men—giving him a wide berth and looking at him with concerned expression. Some, even with admiration. The guy who had been punched in the face also came to thank him personally, offering to buy him a drink.
"No thank you, I'm on the job."
The young man nodded. "Respect man. I wouldn't have thought two cents of you before, but then you went all Rambo and shit. Me and the others, if we see you, we know it's going to be safe. We are just here to dance, you know, we don't like punks."
"I get it. That's why I'm here. To deal with the punks." Michael said, flashing the young man a grin.
"You had fun, didn't you?" the young man teased, tipsy enough not to care much about propriety.
"I must admit, I did. For a moment I hoped they would try to attack me all at once, but perhaps it's best they didn't. For them, I mean." He said with a wink.
The young man laughed. "Normally I would say bullshit but, the way you dodged that punch like it was nothing? Yeah, I might just believe you. Anyway, gotta head back, my girl is waiting. Don't want some punk grabbing her ass while I'm away."
With that, Michael was left alone once again. He topped off his mana with some coins he had hidden in his work pants and kept watch for as long as there was music. Then most of the guests left, and he was informed that his shift was over.
(Uncommon) Presence 1
In the stillness of my being lies a force unseen yet deeply felt; with unwavering presence, I command the silent symphony of intimidation, bending the wills of the weak before my unyielding aura.
· Infuse mana into your aura to create a feeling of pressure in any living being that you want to subdue. The effect is stronger the more difference in power there is between you and the target, creating intimidation, fear and even paralyzing your targets up to five meters away.
Mana cost varies.
Not a bad skill. Not bad at all. He would need to experiment, sure, to find out just what this difference in power really was, but the skill was surely bound to be very useful.
***
"You surprised me last night. It's not often that I get surprised, you know?" Old Dave said. He and Michael were sitting at the diner, eating a hearty breakfast, his treat for a job well done. "I admit to having engineered the situation to test you, but you exceeded all expectations. Congratulations."
"Huh," Michael hummed.
"What?" The old man asked, shoveling food in his mouth.
"I didn't expect you to admit it was you." Michael said with a shrug.
"Trust goes both ways. I told you I wanted to build trust, many times over, didn't I? well, I want you to trust me as well."
Michael nodded. "That's good. I appreciate you telling me." He said, not wanting to tip his hand just yet, no matter how much he wished he could just tell the old man that yes, he also wanted to build trust so that he could start leveraging his magical powers with the help of someone who knew how to navigate the world much better than he did. But he said none of that.
"It was a sight to behold. One moment you were just a bumbling idiot, shaking as you gathered the courage to walk over to the three punks, and then suddenly… I could see it in your eyes. The moment he tried to punch you, you knew he was no threat to you. You knew they were ants, and you were right, of course. You could smash them, I could see that in your eyes, but you kept your cool and they shat their pants. That's the presence I wanted you to learn. Amazing it only took one night, not that I complain."
With that, he slid an envelope over the table. "What's this?"
"Your pay. Legal amount, less than legal means. I hope you don't mind, but this old man can't really afford to do everything by the book."
He probably could, but it would cost him much more than just giving me the cash. Which I sorely need.
Michael opened the enveloped and stared at the green within. "Let's say I don't, for now. But I'll have to do my taxes in due time."
"Yeah, well. Perhaps more down the line. I know you need the money, and you're in no position to made demands."
Michael exhaled loudly. For a moment he considered whether to try out his newest skill on Old Dave, see how the man reacted, but immediately the more rational part of his brain told him it was a bad idea.
"Sure. I can pay rent in cash, the landlord won't mind." He said.
Old Dave grinned. "See? Perfect. Now, listen, I liked your moves and you behaved well last night. It's a good first step towards mutual trust, don't you say? And you liked the money, didn't you? How about I call you when I have more work, what do you say?"
"More bouncer work?"
The man laughed again. "Probably not. I have something lined up, easy courier work. Might need you to pick someone up from the airport, but I don't know the day yet. I promise the pay will always be fair."
"Sure, but I'm free to say no. Now, listen, I really gotta go, thank you for the meal."
"Where are you going all of a sudden? It's not even 10 in the morning!"
"I know but… the air is already scalding, and I need to hike quite a fair bit today or I won't make it in time. Bye."
***
Suspicious, Old Dave thought as the young man left in a hurry with his money, hiking gear in his truck, hiking shoes. Just like last time but… why the hurry? And why did he say he 'needs' to hike? Nobody needs to hike, people do it because they like it.
His gaze followed Michael to his truck, visible through the large windows of the diner, where he saw the boy take something from his pocket, like a stack of coins, and put it into his backpack. He couldn't be sure, his sight no longer what it was long ago. He always keeps a hand in his pocket, now that I think about it. Just what does he keep there, a gun? It can't be. It wouldn't fit. What are those coins?
His interest in the young man increased.