Chapter 2: Secrets and Scandals
The city woke up mean.
Cars honked, trains rattled, and somewhere in Queens, a man was already screaming at a stranger for looking at him wrong. Styles walked through the academy gates with his hood up, cigarette in his mouth, and a grin plastered across his face.
On his badge, his Level 2 glowed faintly. Nobody noticed. Nobody could.
That was the secret.
The infection that should've killed him had doubled his EXP. Now his body buzzed with strength he hadn't had yesterday. His steps felt lighter. His reactions quicker. He knew if anyone came at him, he could dodge before they blinked.
And the best part? Nobody had a clue.
⸻
Scene 1: Rumors and Women
The cafeteria was alive with gossip.
"I heard the parasite bit him and he laughed."
"No way. He just got lucky."
"Luck doesn't crack the floor with one punch."
Styles ignored it all. He was too busy sitting across from an EMT recruit with long legs and a ring on her finger. Her husband was probably at home. She didn't care.
She leaned closer, whispering, "You really didn't use a weapon?"
Styles smirked. "I've got better things in my hands."
She blushed, biting her lip. He had her. He always did. Smooth talking wasn't just a talent. It was his weapon just as much as his fists.
By the time breakfast was over, her number was in his pocket. By the time lunch came, she was in his lap in the supply closet, trying not to moan loud enough to get them both caught.
Styles lit a cigarette afterward, exhaling into the dim air. "Married women… always the freakiest."
She punched his chest playfully. "Shut up."
He grinned. One secret stays hidden. The other one… I make sure people never stop guessing about.
⸻
Scene 2: Second Mission
By afternoon, the alarm klaxon blared. Dispatch hit their unit with a new mission.
Mission Code: 0043.
Threat: Possessed mugger, Level 15.
Location: Queens subway tunnel.
Reward: 1,500 EXP.
Marisol cursed under her breath. "Level fifteen? We're rookies! They're gonna kill us."
Styles slipped his hood on. "Not me."
She glared. "You think this is funny? You're hiding something."
He smirked. "Yeah. My good side."
Scene 3: The Encounter
The subway tunnels stank of piss, oil, and something worse. Shadows stretched across the walls as the flickering lights buzzed overhead.
They found him at the far end. A man, once human, now foaming black at the mouth, claws dragging sparks across the concrete. His eyes burned red, his chest glowing faintly with corrupted energy.
"Level fifteen confirmed," the instructor muttered. "Stay sharp. Aim for the chest—don't let him—"
The mugger lunged, faster than a train. The rookies panicked, firing wildly. Sparks flew as bullets ricocheted. Marisol screamed.
But Styles was already moving.
The infection had sharpened him. His speed carried him ahead of the others. His hand shot out, pulling Marisol down just as claws sliced the air where her head had been.
"Move slower," he muttered. "You almost ruined my smoke break."
He slipped past the possessed mugger with ease, every strike missing by inches. To the rookies, it looked like luck. To him, it was control. His body responded like it had always known how to fight.
The mugger snarled and swung again. Styles stepped in close, fist cocked.
One punch. Right to the gut.
The mugger's eyes went wide as he folded, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.
The tunnel echoed with silence.
The rookies stared. "He—he just fainted?"
Marisol's eyes narrowed. "No. He did something. I saw it."
Styles pulled out his lighter, flicked it open, and lit another cigarette. "Guess he skipped breakfast. Low blood sugar."
⸻
Scene 4: The EXP
The mugger's body dissolved into black smoke.
Above the rookies' heads:
+1,500 EXP.
Groans followed. For most, it was a single level, maybe two.
But in Styles' vision, hidden from all:
+3,000 EXP.
Level Up → 5.
He smirked, hiding his satisfaction under a drag of smoke. Yeah. Faster and faster. They'll never catch me at this pace.
⸻
Scene 5: Secrets and Suspicions
Back at the academy, the gossip only grew.
"That's twice now. No weapon. Criminal just collapses."
"Is he cheating the system?"
"He's hiding something."
Styles sat back in his chair, sipping coffee with his feet on the table. A tall model-type from another division—perfect hair, perfect smile, boyfriend in the unit—was already laughing at his jokes.
Her hand rested on his thigh under the table. He leaned in, whispering something filthy in her ear. She flushed crimson, biting her lip.
Across the cafeteria, Marisol glared at him again, suspicion written all over her face.
"You're hiding something, Styles," she hissed later, cornering him in the hall.
He blew smoke into her face. "Yeah. My dick. Want a peek?"
She shoved him and stormed off. He laughed all the way down the hall.
⸻
Scene 6: Nightfall
Back at the shelter, Styles lay in his bunk, staring at the cracked ceiling. His shoulder pulsed faintly where the parasite had bitten him. The veins glowed black for a second before fading away.
He clenched his fist, the metal frame bending like foil. His body felt sharper every hour. Faster. Stronger. His speed now let him dodge anything, his agility hiding the truth from every eye.
Every mission makes me stronger. Every fight gives me more. And nobody knows. They'll never know.
His badge glowed faintly in the dark: Level 5. Just two missions.
He grinned at the ceiling, laughter low and dangerous.
"Two hundred thousand Prestiges? Yeah. I'll get there. And I'll be laughing the whole time."
Outside, the city roared again. Tomorrow, there'd be another mission. Another encounter. Another woman, another rumor, another secret.
And Styles would own them all.
[TO BE CONTINUED…]