Chapter 4: The strength dilemma
"Well, kid, I'm impressed... you held out till the end of the workout again." Big Mass patted my back, and it felt like being smacked by a truck. Over the past few days, Big Mass and I had gotten closer. I needed to get my power under control before I accidentally slugged someone in the face.
"Careful there, Big Mass. I'd like my rib cage intact. But hey, mind if I ask you something?" Over these days, the big guy had warmed up to me a bit.
"Sure, man, what's on your mind?" sensing a tense question coming his way, Big Mass decided to nip it in the bud. "Yes, I still have a dick despite my huge muscles, and no, that's not how steroids work."
"No, not that—wtf... why would I even... you know what, fine. You're pretty strong, and I looked you up, but you're pretty small-time for your strength, no? What's up with that?" Caught off guard by his answer, I decided to ask him something that had been bugging me for a while.
Big Mass looked at me sternly. "It's because I can't control my strength at a normal level. I'm too big and clumsy for my own good, and the bad guys just end up going squish." He clenched his hand, and the image of a man's skull being turned into paste ran through my imagination.
"But still, you could go B-list or even A-list with a team that takes down high-value threats. Just yesterday, a mutant lizard was running through town until Omni-Man cleaved it in half with his hand."
"You're new to this whole thing, so I'm only gonna tell you this once. The world doesn't treat vigilantes kindly, soldier boy. Most bad guys are just trying to get by due to their circumstances. A nameless villain might be a man fending for his family, and once they die, they're not nameless anymore. You may martyr them while exposing the corrupt system. I took many nameless people to the afterlife, kid. Now I've got a list of names in my head—people who thought the worst that could happen to them was maybe jail but what they got in the end was unfair for them and for me.
He paused, looking me dead in the eyes. "Word to the wise: if you want to be a hero, don't kill unless the nameless can stay just that... nameless. Once you kill and martyr a villain, you become a liability to bigger organizations. It's simply bad marketing... bad press. Learn from my mistakes, and don't end your career before it even begins. You might be just one bad day away from adding too much force to a punch that blows a guy's head up like a watermelon."
Unclenching his fist he also added, "You are more than a hero, you are a symbol of our nation's strength, a deterrent for all outside threats, a diplomatic solution, and a nuclear deterrent, your image matters more to the nation than you think, you either die a hero or fight in the shadows and stay there in the filth and muck, just don't complain about the smell down because all of us wanted a piece of that cheese upstairs but settled to being gutter rats instead." Big mass then stood up and left leaving his heavy words hanging in the air.
"I hope I don't have that dilemma anytime soon. I already took a life, but I don't feel anything about that. It's the ones I didn't save that weigh on me more... maybe acting like a certain bat guy is a good idea, break faces not souls." I looked at my phone: 8:00 p.m. Soon the rats will come out of their holes to feast and run amok, and he will deal with them.
Leaving the warehouses, Arthur said goodbye to Frank and headed back to his place. On the way, he received a few alerts but ignored them. He planned to use the cover of darkness for his heroism—not to hide, but to unlock more opportunities.
He lacked strength more than anything. Gaining the spotlight now would be akin to painting a target on his back. Omni-Man is here, flying around saving people and killing behemoths. Atom Eve is...
After making it back, he showered and checked out the gun he had taken. It had five bullets and was almost useless. 'But at the end of the day, I'm not bulletproof.' Holstering the gun in the back of his jeans, he was ready to accept an alert.
[A group of gangsters are threatening a pizzeria for protection money. Objective: Save the pizzeria.] [Accept]
I got the directions and ran towards the shop as quickly as I could. Once there, I scouted the place and found the assailants.
Dressed in suits, they were arguing with the store owner, an old white man who looked frustrated. Oddly, they weren't being aggressive. Because the store was so out in the open, they concealed their weapons. I couldn't tell if they were armed, but it was better to assume they were.
The two up front keeping watch needed to be taken care of quickly. Arthur walked to the pizzeria, acting like he lacked situational awareness.
"Heads up, a dumb cunt is coming," one guard nudged the other as Arthur approached, and they blocked the door.
"No entries at this time, sir. Walk away." The guard pushed Arthur back with one hand, and Arthur just went with it.
"I just need some pizza, dude. What's the big deal?"
"Walk away now." The guard lifted his shirt, revealing a Glock to Arthur.
Arthur looked past the man and spotted another guy talking to the store owner. "Now, I thought there would be a lot more of you. Shame." He punched the guard in the face so hard the guy got knocked out immediately, probably with a broken nose and a concussion.
"SONOVABI—" Arthur then grabbed the guy's head and smashed it through the heavy glass panel, messing up his face, probably permanently, and leaving him screaming in pain. He then sprinted through the door to the guy who was just turning around, shocked, while pulling out his gun.
But it was too late. He tackled the guy through the wooden counter, destroying it and breaking a bunch of bones in the process.
"AAAAAAAAAAAH!" Two more men quickly showed up from the kitchen when they heard their boss scream.
"BOSS!" They pulled out their guns and aimed at Arthur.
"Shit!" Arthur reacted quickly, picking up the bleeding boss by the nape like he weighed nothing and using him as a human shield.
"Aaahhh! Don't shoot me, dumb sh—akkggg!" Arthur silenced the boss by squeezing a little harder, making it hard for him to breathe.
"Drop your guns and kick 'em here, or your boss gets it." The henchmen looked at each other and nodded, dropping their guns and kicking them to Arthur.
Arthur dropped the boss and smiled at them. "Let's get this started, shall we?" The henchmen sneered and took out pocket knives, probably thinking they outsmarted him.
Arthur rushed towards one of them quickly. The henchman stabbed forward but met nothing but air.
Crack
His arm was bent at a weird angle, and a fist came flying towards his face, folding his legs over his head. Arthur looked at the other henchman rushing towards him and, out of instinct, Spartan-kicked the guy with considerable force.
His leg buried itself deep within the guy's stomach, lifting him off his feet and into one of the tables. His back landed on the edge of the table, and all Arthur could hear was a nasty snap from the guy's back.
"Fuck... I hope he's not dead." It was hard to adjust to the mentality that knives couldn't hurt him when used by normal people, But when you spend your whole life learning to dodge them, you act on impulse.
He started to hear sirens in the distance. It came as no surprise since the store was facing the street probably attracting a lot of attention, turning his attention to the old man he was surprised at how calm he was about the whole situation.
"I appreciate the help, son... But this won't just blow over like you think."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
noname_noname
noname_noname No harem, the council deems it so.
Also a deeper look at how people with weird powers are treated in this world.
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