Shoutout to Bobby, Nate, Shadow, and Soren, squad of legends right here. Appreciate all of you for fueling the chaos.
Bonus Chapter
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The dryer guy turned slightly. His pants were down. Some girl, maybe two, were in front of him. Hands. Mouths.
Moans filled the room. One voice muttered, "Yo, save some for me."
Someone replied, "She got two hands, doesn't she?"
Then they laughed like bad porn actors.
[System]: Ohh~ looks like you walked into a budget gangbang. Do we interrupt or wait for the splash?
'Gross,' I called.
[System]: Mmm~ true. But imagine the loot.
I moved to the side, crouched near a wire shelf stacked with soap boxes. Pulled a small magnet from my belt and flicked it toward the light switch on the far wall.
Click.
Dark.
Voices shouted. The girls squealed. Someone dropped the beer. It shattered.
I slipped in fast. Grabbed the first guy near the door by his collar and yanked him back into the shadows. Elbow to the throat. He went limp.
Second guy turned. "What the--"
Punch. Right to the mouth. He tripped over a crate and slammed into the floor.
Flashlight clicked on. Someone was yelling, "Who the hell--"
I swung low, landed behind the couch. Grabbed one guy by the belt and threw him over it. He hit the floor with a crunch.
Gunshots. Shot twice, hit nothing. One to the ceiling. Other to the wall.
I leapt. Webbed the gun. Yanked it. The shooter screamed.
[System]: Mmm~ clean disarm. That wrist twist? Sexy.
Black Tusk stood, eyes wide. "What the hell is this?"
I dropped from the ceiling and kicked him in the chest. He crashed into the desk. Chair flipped.
One guy tried to run. I dropped on him. He faceplanted into a rolling hamper.
Rest quickly followed.
The last guy dove for a side door, yelling something about backup. I whipped a line to the handle, pulled it shut, then kicked his knee the wrong way. He went down whining. I stepped over him, grabbed the gun he dropped, and checked the clip. Half-full.
The two girls were already gone, half-naked and scrambling out the front with whatever clothes they could grab. Not my problem.
I walked over to the desk. Tusk was groaning on the floor, trying to breathe past the hit to his ribs. I pressed a knee on his chest and yanked his jacket open. Pockets full of nothing. Figures.
The desk drawer was locked. I ripped it open. Inside, a stack of burner phones wrapped in rubber bands, two rolls of bills, and a pouch with something metal.
[System]: Jackpot, sugar~ That is ten grand in dirty bills and enough prepaid burners to call every ex you never had.
I dumped everything into the duffel one of the goons had half-packed. Cash, burners, even the pouch. Opened it briefly. Knives. Small, ugly ones. Not for show. Still took them.
Moved to the other corner. Cracked open a crate marked "Detergent." Not soap. Ammo. Probably nine mil. Took two boxes.
Another duffel under the table. Full of loose bills and pistol mags. Scooped it.
One guy moaned near the hamper. I walked over and webbed him again, this time mouth shut. Looked around. All five of them still breathing.
[System]: Tsk. Soft, but sexy. Spider juice dissolves in two hours, by the way.
I shook my head. "I am not taking that risk. I only webbed the gun earlier, and I am keeping it. No need to get the word out that Spider Man steals, even if it is from the bad guys."
I walked over to Black Tusk. He was still groaning, one leg twitching like it could talk his ribs into working again. I knelt, grabbed his face, and made sure his eyes were open.
"You have crypto?" I asked.
His jaw clenched. He nodded.
"Good. You are going to send it. Every coin. Every stash. Convert everything you have to Bitcoin. Then transfer it to a clean wallet."
He blinked.
I slapped his cheek. Not hard. Just to bring the lights back on.
"Not a suggestion. I want your wallet balance to hit zero like a villain's arc. Now."
He muttered something under his breath. I grabbed his mouth shut. Left one nostril clear. I was not a killer. Just a very annoyed asset reallocation officer.
I pulled his phone from his jacket. Locked. I held it up, let the screen catch his eye, then aimed it at his face.
Unlocked.
Stupid.
I sat on the overturned chair, opened his crypto app, and scrolled. Four wallets. One cold. Three hot. Together? About $43,000 in random coins. Not exactly Stark-level cash, but enough to buy gear, tech, maybe a better mattress.
I opened a fresh browser tab and typed in a wallet address I had prepped on a side site. Clean and encrypted. No ties.
[System]: Mmm~ look at you, little cyber-criminal. That thumb swipe? Hotter than a firewall breach.
'Just keep watch,' I said in my mind. 'If I get traced, I am throwing you under the bus.'
[System]: Ooh~ rough talk. Keep going, Daddy Hacker.
It took three minutes to initiate the transfer. I double-checked the address, clicked send. Watched the coin count drop. Then I wiped the history, cleared the cache, and tossed the phone in the dryer. Slammed the door shut.
I stood up, grabbed the two duffels, and turned to leave. At the last second, I pulled Tusk's hands behind his back. Then, because flair mattered, I pulled a sharpie from my hoodie pocket and drew a goblin on his chest. Real simple. One circle. Eyes and pumpkins. Basic.
I disappeared into the night as police sirens started blaring in the distance. Not the polite kind, either. The screaming, too-late kind. You dial 911, they don't show. A dude fires a warning shot into the air? Suddenly, SWAT shows up like it is Call of Duty cosplay day.
Figures.
[System]: Mmm~ baby, I have never been so turned on by tax fraud. We are stacked. Wallet is fatter than a sugar daddy's dating profile.
I chuckled, walking past the corner deli. Streetlights buzzed overhead, half of them blinking like they were trying to develop epilepsy just to get out of the job.
"Yea?" I muttered under my breath. "Now how are we gonna build my suit? You said the system can help. Also, where the hell am I supposed to stash all this?"
[System]: Mmm~ oh, baby. You finally trust me enough to start dressing up for our late-night adventures? I feel spoiled.
"Trust is a stretch. I just don't want to get caught wearing jeans while jumping rooftops like a budget action figure."
[System]: Then let me upgrade you~ Inventory storage is live. Think pocket dimension, but sexier. You can stash anything in here now. Clothes. Cash. Questionable gadgets. Even your bad decisions.
I stopped at the edge of the block, glanced around. Nobody was paying attention. Some guy across the street was yelling into a phone like he was trying to scream his way out of a breakup. Two teens were smoking by a busted mailbox, arguing about sneaker brands. I turned into the alley beside Mrs. Tapel's laundromat.
[System]: Say the word, sugar, and I will absorb the loot into your virtual inventory. Safe. Secure. Organized by horniness level. Kidding. Maybe.
"Do it," I whispered, tilting my head slightly.
The duffels blinked. Not glowed. Blinked. Like someone pressed Ctrl-Z on reality and they just ceased to exist. One moment I was lugging criminal Christmas around, the next, hands free.
"That is weird. But cool."
[System]: Mmm~ your first step into antihero chic. And don't worry, nobody else can see your stash. Even if you trip and land face-first in a crowd, your secret stays tucked deeper than your porn history.
Alright, that is actually relieving.
"Now about the suit. I don't want Tony snooping around my house or Aunt May," I muttered.
[System]: Mmm~ so possessive already. I love it. No Stark interference. No May catching you stitching Kevlar into your undies. We go private, baby. Underground Rizz Industries.
I kept walking, pacing the side of the alley. "So what are my options?"
[System]: Glad you asked~ Crafting menu unlocked. First up: Basic Suit Framework. Materials needed, elastic polyfiber, reinforced lining, adhesive nanoweave, and ohhh~ a splash of daddy drip. You pick the color. I will sync the threads.
"I don't exactly have Stark-grade fabric just chilling under my bed."
[System]: True. But you have the smart. Those things are crafted by other people. Just purchase raw materials, and let me do the magic. We can later work on design. I doubt you would go red and blue.
"Yeah, no. I am not running around dressed like patriotic spandex. I want something slick. Something that does not scream 'please shoot me first.'"
[System]: Ohhh~ tactical thirst alert. I like where this is going. Maybe matte black with dark chrome accents? Just enough sexy menace to make bad girls think twice… or not think at all.
"I will think about it," I said, stepping around a trash bin. "But yeah. Materials first. I have cash now, crypto too. If I buy stuff in pieces from different places, no one will track it."
[System]: Yes, baby. Decentralize that paper trail. Shady surplus shops. Sketchy fabric vendors. Etsy sellers with questionable ethics. Turn this city into your personal scavenger hunt.
I slipped back into my room through the window. Dumped my hoodie near the closet and peeled off the rest as I made my way into the bathroom. Gotta rinse the sweat, detergent stink, and stolen swag energy off my skin.
"I will deal with all that tomorrow," I muttered, cracking my neck. "So you are basically my magical 3D printer?"
[System]: Ohhh~ sugar, I am more than that. I am your wet dream in blueprint form. I scan your desires, whisper dirty upgrades in your ear, and craft sleek, tight things that hug your thighs just right. I don't print. I manifest.
"Okay, horny Cricut machine. Do I need to feed you like a Tamagotchi or are we just good until I summon you again?"
[System]: Mmm~ I feed off your ego and excess. As long as you keep being reckless, seductive, and just the right amount of criminal, I stay powered. Call it naughty sustainability.
"Noted," I said, grabbing clean shorts from the drawer.
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You can read up to Chapter 72...
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