Ryder blinked, taken completely off guard. He looked at the crying woman clutching his arm, then back at the three idiots trying to edge away.
"Ahem… that came out so wrong. I meant—uh—I'm here doing hero work! You know, beating up scum like you. Not… whatever you're thinking," he said, his deep, cursed voice trying (and failing) to sound innocent.
The thugs all glanced at each other, then burst out laughing nervously.
"Best weirdo comic book freak ever," one snorted.
They didn't laugh for long. Ryder sighed, gently set the woman aside, and the very next second his fists moved. A flurry of blows left all three of them black, blue, and groaning on the ground, little cartoonish stars practically dancing around their heads.
Ryder dusted off his hands, muttering under his breath, "Misunderstood by villains—typical. Can't wait to get my normal face back on."
Meanwhile, the woman just stared at him, eyes wide with confused gratitude. Ryder managed a stiff little nod, then disappeared up the wall with a single effortless leap, leaving her alone with three thoroughly smashed wannabe tough guys.
As Ryder soared over the rooftops, feet tapping across invisible cursed platforms, he let out a long sigh.
"Man… this Sukuna face is way too damn scary for hero work," he muttered, shaking his head. "People either run screaming, start praying, or—like those idiots—think I'm here for something twisted."
He couldn't exactly blame them. With the jagged tattoos, the extra eyes, and that perpetual sharp-toothed grin, he probably looked like every nightmare jammed into one.
But what choice did he have? It wasn't just about power—showing his real face would mean putting a target on his family. The moment villains realized who he truly was, they'd come after his loved ones for revenge or leverage.
No, far better to wear this terrifying mask. Let the world think Sukuna was the monster stalking the streets, while Ryder remained just a harmless, brilliant college student and famous young laureate.
"So I'll keep moving forward like this," he decided, landing lightly on the next rooftop. "Even if it scares a few innocent people. As long as it keeps the scum terrified—and my family safe—it's worth it."
A faint grin tugged at his lips.
"Besides… the look on their faces is still pretty priceless."
As he drifted above the city on silent steps of cursed energy, Ryder's unique Sukuna-infused eyes caught something odd down below.
A little street drama was playing out: a woman was cornered by a few rough-looking men in an alley, seemingly pleading as they loomed over her. At first glance, it looked like the typical situation he'd come to stop.
But his eyes weren't normal—they could pierce deeper, reading subtle cues most would miss. And what he saw made his smile curl just slightly.
There was no genuine fear or desperation in the woman's posture. No helpless terror. Likewise, the men didn't radiate the usual greedy lust or violent thrill. They all felt… empty, like puppets on a stage. Their expressions were textbook perfect, but there was no soul behind them.
"Hmm… a normal woman in this position would be screaming inside, heart pounding out of her chest. Normal scum would be leaking filth—lust, cruelty, adrenaline," Ryder mused, his sharp eyes scanning every subtle twitch. "But these… it's flat. Too clean. Like they're reciting lines from a play."
Then his gaze settled on the woman's face—just long enough for something to click. A low, amused chuckle rumbled in his chest.
"Ah… a Black Widow. So SHIELD's behind this? Or at least working with her. Figures they'd stage something like this to bait me—after all, everyone knows about the so-called 'night demon' who prowls the streets helping the helpless."
"A Good strategy to meet me" he thought nodding.
He shook his head, a sly grin spreading across his monstrous face.
'Alright then. Let's play along and see how your little drama unfolds.'
With that, he dropped from the sky in a perfect three-point hero landing right in front of the supposed damsel and her six 'attackers.'
"Well, well, aren't you boys bold?" he drawled, his voice carrying a casual menace that made even trained operatives twitch.
They didn't answer—just immediately opened fire.
"Tch," Ryder scoffed. With a blur of motion and cracking sounds, he snapped arms, broke ribs, and left all six men sprawled groaning on the pavement in less than three heartbeats.
He dusted off his hands as if swatting away lint.
"Just call the cops and—"
But suddenly, delicate arms wrapped around his waist. The woman clung to him, her tear-streaked eyes wide and trembling.
"Please… just escort me home. I'm terrified," she whispered.
'Damn. Her acting is top notch,' Ryder thought, half amused, half impressed. He gave a resigned little sigh and nodded.
"Well, alright then." He rested a heavy clawed hand on her slender shoulder, lowering his voice to something almost gentle. "Go on—lead the way, little beauty."
She dipped her head, still trembling perfectly, and began walking. Ryder followed, smirking faintly.
This was turning into quite the entertaining night.
She led him through a few quiet streets, still playing the trembling damsel role perfectly. Eventually, they arrived at a cozy apartment building.
Ryder, hands tucked into his pockets, was already turning away. "Alright, you're home safe. Be more careful next time."
But she reached for his arm, eyes wide and inviting.
"Please… come in, just for a moment. Let me thank you properly."
He waved dismissively. "No need. Hero work and all that."
She took a deliberate step closer, her delicate fingers toying with the strap of her dress. It slipped slightly, almost revealing the soft curve of her breast. Her lips parted, voice husky.
"I'd like to repay you… in a way only a woman can."
Ryder paused, quirking an eyebrow. Inside, he couldn't help but sigh.
'Really laying it on thick, huh?'
Still, he stepped forward, leaned down a bit—his monstrous face inches from hers—and took her hand gently.
Then he gave it a polite shake.
"Yeah, I think we've played around enough."
She blinked. "W-What?"
He smiled, sharp teeth gleaming.
"Back there? The alley? The six men conveniently attacking you under a streetlight with perfect sight lines? The way you never once gave off the fear stink normal people do?"