Early morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting warm rays onto the bed. Noah's eyes snapped open as his alarm buzzed loudly. Stretching a hand to silence it, he allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction—last night's intense training had paid off. His physical stats had leveled up, surpassing human limits and giving him a glimpse of his potential.
Noah's Stats:
Name: Noah
Age: 18/200
Strength: 1.7
Constitution: 1.5+
Spirit: 1.5+
Charm: 1.4+
Attribute points to use: 0.3
With his boosted physical capabilities, Noah noticed something even more fascinating: his life expectancy had jumped to over 200 years. Not a bad perk, he thought, chuckling as he sat up.
He stretched and went about his morning routine, but one thing was off. As he sat down to eat breakfast, his appetite seemed… smaller. This was odd, considering his recent constant hunger from daily exercise and training. He peered at his half-finished plate, puzzled.
"Maybe I'm just more efficient now?" he muttered to himself. It wasn't exactly a logical answer, but with all the unexpected quirks from his powers, it was his best guess for now.
Once he finished, Noah glanced at the clock and realized it was time to go. Today, the school had organized a field trip to Oscorp—a tour most of his classmates would have been excited about. But Noah? Not so much.
He gave a dismissive wave to the thought of going to school. "Class? Please. I have more pressing issues," he muttered, casting a last glance at the clock before grabbing his stuff and heading out. His "issues" included a hefty pile of "questionably sourced" cash, which needed to be cleaned up before it drew unwanted attention.
Meanwhile, Midtown High students were excitedly boarding their bus, ready to head out for the Oscorp tour. Mr. James scanned the crowd, confirming that everyone was accounted for—well, except for one.
"Noah?" he called out. The absence of his most unreliable student was no surprise, but James still glanced over at Peter Parker for any clues. Peter simply shrugged, his expression resigned, as if to say, What do you expect? Shaking his head, Mr. James boarded the bus, leaving the mystery of Noah's absence unsolved.
Noah, meanwhile, had reached his hidden stash site, carefully shifting aside a massive half-ton rock to reveal a hidden cache of cash, gold, and silver. Sorting through it all, he selected only what he needed: a sizable pile of cash and a small amount of gold. With a practiced hand, he molded the gold, pressing and reshaping it until it looked less like marked bars and more like an untraceable golden blob.
With his suitcase now packed, he left his hideout, ready to handle his cash in a bank that catered to clients with, let's say, unique needs. His destination was Lanshell Bank in New York, a well-known but off-the-record establishment favored by the mutant Brotherhood.
Stepping into Lanshell Bank, Noah carried himself with practiced nonchalance. This was, after all, a place where discretion was expected and questions were discouraged. He made his way to a less crowded window and waited his turn. When he finally reached the teller, he set his suitcase on the counter and leaned in, speaking low.
"I'd like to open an anonymous account and… clean the funds," he murmured.
The teller, a young woman who seemed momentarily entranced by his looks, quickly snapped to attention, offering a polite but knowing smile. "Certainly, sir. Please provide any bank card number, and the remaining amount will be transferred to your account within three business days."
Nodding, Noah reached into his pocket, only for his enhanced senses to pick up the sounds of heavy footsteps from outside. He tensed just as a loud, commanding voice echoed through the bank lobby.
"This is a robbery! Everyone, down on the floor! Move, and you're dead!"
Noah blinked in disbelief. A robbery… here? He fought the urge to laugh. Did these clowns have any idea whose bank they were trying to rob? He looked around at the terrified customers and staff, noting the panic that had already set in.
Turning to the teller, he whispered sarcastically, "This isn't, like, a regular drill, is it?"
The terrified look she shot back said it all.
Noah was trying to keep a low profile, but one of the robbers noticed him lingering by the counter and approached, his gun leveled. "You, what're you staring at? Down! Hands up! And what's in the box, huh? Open it!"
Realizing that he had no choice but to comply if he wanted to avoid unnecessary attention, Noah raised his hands and backed away from the counter, letting the robber pry open the suitcase. When the crook saw the wads of cash and the chunky gold piece inside, his eyes practically bulged.
"Oh, jackpot!" the robber hollered to his crew. "Guys, get a load of this—this dude's rolling in it!"
As Noah stepped back with his hands raised, he had to admit this was the most ridiculous situation he'd found himself in. How was he, the guy trying to keep a low profile, now the center of attention in a botched bank heist?
He scanned the room, taking note of the exits, the positions of each robber, and the security cameras that were currently capturing everything. If he fought back now, he'd be all over the news by tomorrow. His identity—and his powers—would be out there for every hero and villain in New York to see. So he did the only sensible thing: he played along, moving to sit with the other hostages.
While he watched the robbers, Noah couldn't help but find himself slightly impressed by the level of coordination they had. They split off, one covering the crowd while the others worked on the vault. But it was still painfully clear they had no idea who they were messing with.
One robber, evidently the leader, had eyes only for the vault. "We hit the jackpot, boys! Load it up!" he barked.
Noah felt the minutes tick by, and his patience wore thinner. If these guys didn't wrap it up soon, he was going to have to step in. Just as he was beginning to consider his options, his enhanced senses picked up a small but telling detail—sirens in the distance, growing louder with each second.
Finally, he thought. Cops meant he could keep his hands clean and his profile low.
The robbers tensed as the sound reached them too. Panic spread across their faces, and the leader began barking orders, losing what little calm he had. One of the robbers swung back to Noah, clearly planning to take him as a hostage.
"Alright, you're coming with us," the robber sneered, motioning with his gun for Noah to get up.
Noah sighed, getting to his feet slowly. Guess the low-profile approach has run its course. As he stood, he felt a surge of anticipation. He'd have to take them out quickly and quietly if he wanted to keep his secret.
Before the robber could blink, Noah's hand shot out, his grip crushing the man's gun. The robber let out a strangled yelp, and in a flash, Noah moved, disarming each man in the room and subduing them before they could react.
By the time the police burst through the doors, Noah was back among the hostages, his hands calmly raised as if he'd been a passive observer the entire time. The cops didn't seem to suspect him at all.
As he left Lanshell Bank under the cover of the crowd, he cast one last look back, stifling a grin. New York's certainly full of surprises. But next time, maybe I'll handle my finances somewhere a bit quieter.
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Pray that I pass my exams.....
So, this is my first time doing this. I hope you guys can help me improve by providing your feedback, and some stones would be nice. (づ ◕‿◕ )づ