The others don't waste time gawking. Three of them rush me at once, a clumsy pack of muscle and bad decisions. The big guy with the shaved head leads, fists swinging wild. Another's got a bat raised high, and the third—a twitchy guy with a scar over his eyebrow—lunges with a knife. I don't even flinch. A quick thought, and I teleport, vanishing from their path in a blink. I reappear a few feet away, leaning against the alley wall, watching them stumble over each other where I'd just been.
To them, it's like I'm a ghost—here one second, gone the next. They spin around, heads whipping back and forth, trying to spot me. I teleport again, popping up behind the bat guy, then again to the side of the big one. They're swinging at air, cursing under their breath, and I can't help but grin.
'This is so much fun man!'
The big guy finally locks onto me and throws a punch, a meaty fist aimed right at my face. It stops like an inch away, slow down by Infinity, his knuckles hovering an inch from my nose. He grunts, pushing harder, but it's useless.
I lean forward, resting my chin on my hand like I'm bored at a lecture, and look him right in the eye. "You guys really don't get it, huh? I'm a superhero you motherfuckers… nah! It wasn't cool, strong people don't curse." I say, sounding almost disappointed at myself a little.
'Point noted: Swearing didn't look cool or sounded cool from me.'
Then I reach out with my other hand and flick his forehead—light, casual, like shooing a fly. The effect's anything but light. A burst of cursed energy snaps through the air, and—BOOM—he's gone, rocketing backward like he's been hit by a truck.
'Is it weird that I'm liking this body too much now?!' I thought to myself.
He slams into the opposite wall, bricks cracking under the impact, and slides down in a heap, dazed and wheezing. The other two freeze, staring at their buddy, then at me, their bravado leaking away fast.
The rest of the thugs—six left now—start backing off, their steps shaky, eyes darting between me and their fallen pals. The alley feels smaller all of a sudden, the air heavier with their fear.
One of them, a stocky guy with a patchy beard and a cheap pistol, fumbles it out of his waistband. His hands are trembling, the gun wobbling as he points it at me. I just watch, amused, leaning back against the wall with my arms crossed.
The leader stumbles forward, trying to rally them, his voice cracking. "S-Stay back!" he shouts, pointing at me like I'm a wild animal. "I'll fucking shoot you!"
Bang.
The gunshot sound echoes, sharp and loud, bouncing off the bricks. The bullet streaks toward me, a little blur of metal—and stops. It hangs there, floating an inch away from my forehead, slowdown by Infinity's.
The gunman's jaw drops, his pistol shaking harder now. I reached up, casual as anything, and took the bullet out of the air between my thumb and forefinger.
I hold it up, turning it side to side like it's some neat trinket I found on the ground, then glance at him with a smirk. "Yeah, no," I say, tossing it over my shoulder with a shrug. "That won't work either."
It clinks against the pavement, and that's it for him. The gunman's eyes go wide, pure panic setting in, and he drops the pistol like it's burned him.
It clatters to the ground as he turns and bolts, shoving past his buddies, disappearing around the corner of the alley. The others hesitate, glancing at each other, then at me—five pairs of eyes full of dread, realizing they're way out of their league.
The leader's the last one standing who's still got any fight in him. The rest are either down or too scared to move. He's shaking now, sweat beading on his forehead, his greasy hair plastered to his skin.
He bends down, snatching a metal pipe from the ground—a rusted, dented thing lying in the rubble.
He grips it tight, knuckles white, and charges me with a yell, swinging it hard at my head. I don't even blink. My hand snaps up, catching the pipe between two fingers like it's a chopstick.
He freezes, staring at where I've stopped it mid-swing, his arms trembling with the effort to push through.
'Did they see the bullet or aomething or is it just too dark in here for them tk conclude anything,' I thought to be honest I thought that after this they would scramble to something and run for their lives.
I tighten my grip—just a little—and the pipe crumples like it's made of tinfoil, bending and twisting in my fingers with a soft screech of metal.
His eyes widen, the last of his courage draining away, and he lets go, staggering back. The pipe clangs to the ground as he drops to his knees, hands up, voice breaking.
"P-Please!" he stammers, practically sobbing. "I-I give up!"
I crouch down in front of him, resting my elbows on my knees, and flash him a big, friendly smile. "Oh, now you're polite? I was waiting for you guys to say this line from the very start." I say, tilting my head. "But still it's Cute." He flinches, waiting for the worst, but I just stand up, teleport behind him in a flash, and chop the back of his neck with the side of my hand—quick and clean.
He slumps forward, out cold, faceplanting into the pavement with a dull thud. The alley goes quiet, just the sound of my breathing and the faint groans of the guys still conscious enough to feel pain.
I turn around, brushing my hands off, and spot the girl still plastered against the wall. Her eyes are huge, locked on me, her mouth slightly open like she's forgotten how to close it.
She's pressed so hard against the bricks her shirt's practically part of the wall now, her hands flat against it like she's bracing for something else to go wrong.
She was expecting a fight—maybe some punches, a struggle, something normal. Not… whatever this was. Me flicking guys around like flies, stopping bullets like they're toys. Her breath's still shaky, hitching every few seconds, but she's alive, unhurt.
————
Oh yeah! Just to let you guys know that it is like a month ago before invincible season1.