Zane Walker's POV
Zane Walker adjusted the collar of his jacket as he strolled through the mall, flanked by his childhood friends Lena, Celeste, and Iris. The three had dragged him out for shopping, something he usually found exhausting, but today, he didn't mind. A hero needed a good image, after all.
"That bag looks nice," Lena said, pointing at a designer purse displayed behind the glass.
"Expensive," Celeste muttered, arms crossed.
Iris tilted her head. "It's practical, though."
Zane chuckled, shaking his head. "Why do girls always obsess over bags? It's just for carrying stuff."
Lena pouted. "It's more than that! It's about style and convenience."
Before Zane could argue, a blur shot past them—a man in a hoodie snatched a woman's purse and took off.
"Thief!" someone shouted.
Without hesitation, Zane sprang into action. "Stay here, I got this!"
He dashed after the robber, his mind already spinning. This is it. A hero's moment! The girls weren't listening, though. They followed right behind him, their heels clicking against the tiles.
"Zane, wait!" Lena called.
But he wasn't stopping. This was a perfect opportunity to prove himself. He could already imagine how they'd look at him after he stopped the thief. Like a real hero.
Franz Kafka's POV
Franz stood in front of a mirror, holding up two hoodies—one dark gray, one navy blue.
'They're the same damn thing.'
[Incorrect. The navy one complements your eye color better.]
Franz sighed. "Right, because that matters."
[Appearance affects perception. If you insist on looking like a mountain, you should at least be a well-dressed one.]
He ignored the system and grabbed both before heading toward the checkout. As he walked, he noticed a small girl crying near a bench, her tiny hands rubbing at teary eyes. She couldn't have been older than five.
Franz slowed his steps. He wasn't the type to get involved in random people's problems, but something about a lost kid in the middle of a mall didn't sit right with him.
Kneeling down, he spoke evenly. "Hey. What's wrong?"
The little girl sniffled, looking up at him with wide, teary eyes. "M-My mommy's gone…"
Franz sighed through his nose. 'Great.'
He sat cross-legged beside her. "Alright. Do you know where she went?"
The girl shook her head.
[Scanning. Her mother is currently on the second floor, near the clothing section.]
Franz rested his chin on his fist. "Second floor, huh?"
The girl tried standing but winced, clutching her ankle. Franz narrowed his eyes. "You twist it?"
She nodded.
Without thinking too much about it, he scooped her up and sat her on his shoulders. "Alright, up we go."
The little girl squeaked but held onto his head. "Wha—?"
"We'll find your mom faster this way."
Several people around them paused, watching the towering man walk casually with a tiny child perched on his broad shoulders.
"Whoa, that looks kinda wholesome."
"Damn, he's huge, but that's kinda cute."
"I swear I've seen him somewhere before…"
Franz ignored them, heading toward the escalator. Maya giggled, apparently entertained by the new height. "You're really tall, mister!"
"Yup."
"Are you a giant?"
"Something like that."
[Correction: You are not a giant.]
"Shut up, System."
As they neared the second floor, the moment of peace ended. A blur of movement slammed into Franz's side. A man—a thief, from the panicked look in his eyes—bounced off him like he had hit a wall. Maya wobbled slightly, but Franz's steady hands kept her in place.
The thief scrambled back, eyes darting between Franz and the bloodstains on his hoodie. Panic set in. He yanked a knife from his pocket and swung wildly.
Franz caught the blade mid-swing.
For a second, everything froze.
Blood dripped from his palm, running down his fingers.
The robber's eyes went wide. He tried to pull the knife back, but it wouldn't budge.
Franz tightened his grip.
CRACK.
The knife's cheap handle shattered in his fist.
The thief barely had time to register what had happened before Franz's hand shot out. His open palm met the side of the robber's face with a wet, sickening smack.
Bone crunched. Teeth scattered onto the floor like dice. The man collapsed instantly, his jaw dislocated, blood pooling under him.
Silence fell over the mall.
Franz looked down at his bleeding hand, flexing his fingers. 'I really don't feel pain, huh.'
A familiar trio of voices broke through the stunned quiet.
"That was…" Lena started, eyes wide.
"…brutal," Celeste finished.
Iris adjusted her glasses. "He caught a knife. With his bare hands."
Franz looked at them, expression unreadable. The little girl on his shoulders poked his head. "Mister, are you okay?"
"Yeah," he said simply. Then, to the main cast: "You need something?"
Lena stepped forward. "That was amazing! But—your hand! You should come to the medic with us."
Franz glanced at his bleeding palm. "…Okay."
He followed them, still carrying Maya. The little girl beamed. "You're so cool, mister!"
Franz exhaled. "That I am, kid."
From the sidelines, murmurs spread among the onlookers.
"Who the hell is that guy?"
"No idea, but he wrecked that dude."
"Dude caught a knife. Who even does that?"
Zane, standing stiffly, clenched his fists. That should've been my moment.