Scott woke up suddenly.
A sharp, electric pain shot through his chest.
The memory of the pulse cannon blast from the night before was still fresh in his mind, and his body protested as he shifted in bed. Every breath felt like he was inhaling broken glass, and the ache throbbed all the way down to his ribs.
He winced and instinctively rubbed the bruised area where the energy blast had struck him.
It was healing, but not fast enough for his liking.
Still, the fact that he was alive meant something.
Last night had been real.
For a moment, he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the events in his head. The stealth, the takedown, the blast, the fall… the cheers from the chat echoing in his ears, their excitement buzzing through him even now. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it. His first real mission as an antihero. It wasn't flawless, but it was real, and it was his.
For a moment, he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling and replaying everything in his head.
The stealth, the takedown, the blast, the fall… he could still hear the cheers from the chat echoing in his ears and their excitement buzzed through him even now.
『I still can't believe it.』
He'd done it… his first real mission as a vigilante.
It wasn't perfect, but it was real, and it was his.
With a groan, he reached for his phone on the nightstand and pulled up his System board.
The System's robotic voice spoke up.
[Status Report: Mission Grade: C-]
The young man immediately frowned.
"Yeah, yeah… rub it in why don't ya."
But the next line on the screen made him pause.
[Viewers: 1,900 | Donations: $595]
He blinked. His heart skipped a beat.
"Holy shit… I actually made money."
It wasn't much, but for a first stream? That was more than he'd hoped for. He quickly flipped to his bank app, and his eyes widened at the sight of actual deposits.
Viewers had tipped him. A lot.
A smile slowly crept across his face as he scrolled through the messages attached to the donations.
[User: HypeTrain2024 | $50: Dude, you got this! I'm rooting for you, keep it up!]
[User: SnarkKing | $5: Lmao, keep getting blasted through windows, I love it.]
[User: HeroCritic | $20: Not bad, needs work tho.]
[User: NutBuster5000 | $10: Nice work out there, bro!]
There were plenty more.
But he read each one with care.
Shortly after, Scott opened the notification tab.
He was surprised to see a flood of comments from viewers filling the screen.
Some were supportive:
[Yo, last night was fire!]
[Holy crap, you're insane for pulling that off!]
[Man got yeeted but hella respect for trying. LOL]
[Dude, you're my new favorite streamer!]
[Bro, that stunt was wild! Can't wait for more.]
Others, of course, couldn't resist trolling him:
[LOL. Nice fall, dude. 10/10, would watch you faceplant again.]
[That was staged af, but it was still funny.]
[Fr, y'all believe anything these days ( ﾟ ,_ゝﾟ)]
[Bruh… just put the fries in the bag bro. This vigilante sh#t ain't for you, dawg.]
Scott chuckled as his chest still burned with pain.
"Favorite streamer, huh?"
All he could do was smile and nod approvingly.
A blue screen appeared in front of him.
[Name: Scott McQueen]
[Potential Consistent Viewers: 1679]
[Last Mission Grade: C-]
A tired grin spread across his face.
『C-? Yeah, that was generous.』
He'd eaten a pulse blast, crashed through a window, and nearly broke his spine on a car.
『I need to be better… ahead of next time.』
He checked his bank account next.
[Bank Balance: $763.54]
There it was, real money, right in his account. Not a lot by any means, but it was enough for now. He wasn't in this to get rich, but a little cash definitely helped. Plus, it was proof that people were buying in.
They believed in him.
Even if only for the entertainment value.
He swiped away the comments and the bank balance and focused on the System Market that blinked in the corner of his screen.
His 9,000 credits were just begging to be spent.
He tapped into the market, watching as a small shop window opened up to reveal a selection of useful gadgets and gear:
[Basic Bodysuit Armor – 3,500 credits]
[EMP Throwing Discs – 1,000 credits]
[Gadget Glove Upgrade– 4,500 credits]
[Shockwave Boots – 2,300 credits]
[Plasma Deflector Vest – 4,500 credits]
[Pulse Absorber Patch (Single Use): 500 credits]
[Healing Patch (Tier 1) – 500 credits]
Scott's eyes lingered on the [Plasma Deflector Vest].
After last night's encounter, he couldn't afford to take another hit like that again.
"Definitely need that…"
He muttered as he added it to his cart.
He browsed for a bit longer, then selected the [Basic Bodysuit Armor] to serve as his first layer of protection.
Lastly, Scott grabbed two healing patches to fix the worst of his injuries for 1,000 credits.
He hit the purchase button, and a soft chime echoed through the room. Before he knew it, the items appeared on his bed in sleek black cases.
More and more, the System impressed him.
Scott reached out, eager to test out his new gear, but something caught his eye—a small, pastel-colored envelope laying on his bed, wrapped in a bright pink ribbon.
The letter was undeniably cute, maybe too cute.
Scott hesitated for a moment, then picked it up and carefully untied the ribbon to peel open the envelope.
Scott blinked. Nothing? Not even a single word? He held it up to the light, flipped it over a few times, but there wasn't so much as a scribble inside.
He sighed again and shook his head with a wry smile.
"She didn't even bother to write anything, huh?"
He tossed the empty letter onto his nightstand, where the pastel envelope looked out of place among the mess of gadgets and gear.
His body ached as he got up, groaning at the sick pain in his ribs.
Slowly, he shuffled to the bathroom.
Scott stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still damp and sticking to his forehead. He grabbed a fresh healing patch from the sink and winced as he peeled the old one off his chest, exposing bruised skin underneath. Pressing the new patch down, it let out a soft hiss, sending a cool relief through his sore ribs.
He glanced at the mirror.
His face was worn, dark circles under his eyes showing just how tired he was… but he couldn't help but smirk anyway.
His phone rang sharply on the nightstand.
He picked it up and glanced at the screen.
Scott sighed then swiped to answer.
"You better not be sleeping, Scott! It's 7 a.m. and you have school. Don't make me come over there."
Her voice came through in a no-nonsense tone.
He pressed the phone between his shoulder and ear, pulling on a black hoodie.
"I'm always tired…" Scott muttered under his breath.
"Don't start with me. Now get your ass to school."
The line clicked, and she was gone before he could get another word in.
Scott shook his head with a small smile, tossing the phone on his bed. He grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and stepped outside into the cool morning air.
The sky was still a light gray as Scott got on his bike and kicked it into gear. He let out a quiet groan, feeling his ribs ache with the movement, though the healing patch was starting to work.
He pedaled off toward school, his mind wandering as he rode through the streets. Part of him almost expected to see news vans parked outside the building because of what happened last night.
『Maybe I'll check it out later…』
By the time Scott got to school, the courtyard was already full of students, some hurrying because they were late, others standing around in groups talking. He parked his bike and pulled his hoodie down over his head, keeping it low.
As he headed toward the entrance, bits of conversation drifted toward him.
"Did you see that clip last night?"
"Bro, no way that was real! He got blasted out of the building and survived?!"
"Bro, they're saying it wasn't even scripted! Like, it legit happened!"
"Dude, that vigilante's kinda insane…"
Scott couldn't help but smile to himself.
They were talking about him.
They had no idea, but they were talking about him.
When Scott walked into the building, the noise of conversations grew louder. A group of cute cheerleaders by the lockers were huddled around their phones, giggling and showing each other a video. One of them gasped as the clip replayed the moment Scott… well, the vigilante, crashed through the window.
"That's crazy! How did he not die?" she squealed.
"He's definitely got powers or something. No normal guy could walk away from that."
Scott's grin widened.
『Powers, huh? Not exactly.』
Scott walked down the hallway, weaving through groups of students, until he saw the big flat-screen TV on the wall. The school news was on, and a small crowd had gathered to watch it. He made his way to the back, crossing his arms, as the two student hosts chatted on-screen.
"Good morning, Westerfield High! I'm Mia, and this is Travis, and you're watching the Wildcat Weekly!"
"Big semester coming up, Mia. We've got the pep rally, homecoming, and—oh! Don't forget about the talent show!"
Travis spoke enthusiastically while calmly styling his hair with a gel and an afro comb.
Mia nodded, smiling brightly.
"Yep! Lots to look forward to. But first, we've gotta talk about something a little different today. Now, this isn't exactly school-related, but…"
She leaned in conspiratorially.
"Have you seen the video that went viral last night?"
The students in the hallway murmured excitedly, a few of them glancing at each other.
Travis pretended to be surprised.
"Oh, you mean that video? The one where some crazy vigilante took down a group of high-tech robbers?"
"Exactly! This guy—whoever he is—broke into a building, fought off a bunch of armed criminals, and then got blasted through a window! And get this… he survived! We're talking superhuman stuff, right?"
The camera cut to a grainy clip of Scott's fight, the moment he knocked out the first robber and then got hit with the pulse cannon. The crowd watching the TV oohed and aahed at the scene, some of them visibly wincing when Scott crashed through the glass.
A boy in front of Scott snickered. "Dude got yeeted."
His friend shook his head.
"Nah, that's not even the best part. He just walked away after that. Like, who is this guy?"
"A gigachad that's what!"
Scott leaned back against the wall, trying to suppress his smirk.
On-screen, Travis leaned back in his chair and adjusted his hair some more.
"Okay, real talk… does this guy have a name yet? Or are we sticking with 'that vigilante dude' for now?"
"He hasn't said anything, so people are already throwing out suggestions. I saw someone call him 'Nightwatch' because of how he uses stealth."
"I like it. Nightwatch's got a ring to it. But let's be real… he's probably just a one-time wonder. No way he shows up again."
Some students in the hallway nodded in agreement, while others argued back.
"Bro, no way! He's gonna be the next big thing!"
"Nah, if he was smart, he'd stay hidden. This is a one-off for sure."
As the debate raged on, Scott pushed away from the wall and adjusted the straps on his backpack.
He could feel eyes on him, but none of them knew.
Just as he was about to walk toward his first class, he heard a familiar voice behind him.
He turned to see his friend, Jake, jogging over with a wide grin.
Given how fat Jake was, Scott couldn't believe he managed to jog for so long without collapsing.
"Yo, you hear about that vigilante guy? Dude's all anyone's talking about."
Jake adjusted his oversized spectacles.
"My chances of getting a girlfriend has dropped by a whooping 40%, tch! Can you imagine?"
Scott raised an eyebrow at this.
『Err, wasn't it already zero?』
Choosing to play dumb instead, he replied.
"Oh yeah? What's the big deal?"
Jake rolled his eyes. "Bro, he took down roughly five dudes in high-tech armor and lived to tell the tale! That's badass. I'd give anything to know who he is."
Scott shrugged. "Yeah… sounds cool, I guess."
Jake clapped him on the back. "If only he went to our school, huh? Imagine the fame! The GIRLS!"
Scott chuckled under his breath.
『If only you knew, man. If only you knew.』