Chapter Twenty-One: One Month Later

After leaving the supermarket, Jinsha insisted on thanking Zhong Shenxiu properly. Taking the initiative, she volunteered as his guide once again and brought him to the power company to settle his outstanding electricity bill. She even went so far as to drive him back to 19 Ingram Street, saving him a taxi fare.

"Bye, Xiu! See you next time!" Little Gwen stood up from the front passenger seat, her face brightening as she waved cheerfully, bidding Zhong Shenxiu goodbye. The shadows that had clouded her earlier were gone, replaced by a brilliant smile.

"Sit down! That’s dangerous," came Jinsha’s admonishing voice.

With a snap of the door and the soft whine of the engine, Zhong Shenxiu smiled faintly and, clutching his bedding, headed for home. He didn’t even need to use "Mana Wave" to know that the twelve mice who followed him had returned to the area as well.

He laid out his new bedding, took the old iPhone (2G) from his personal belongings bag and put it on charge, then tidied up the cluttered house. Carrying the foul-smelling old bedding and bundles of trash, he went outside to deposit them by the already overflowing garbage bin.

Just then, he caught sight of Peter Parker, pale and drenched in sweat, gasping for breath as he jogged down the street. Peter’s head was bowed, his movements mechanical, as if he had reached his limit. He didn’t notice Zhong Shenxiu watching from the roadside.

Clearly, Peter was struggling to meet the training targets Zhong Shenxiu had set for him the night before. Though those targets were borrowed straight from a certain bald man’s regimen, for a ten-year-old boy like Peter, simply persevering would make him much stronger than before, if not outright powerful.

Zhong Shenxiu watched him for a while, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly, before turning back home. If Peter could work so hard, he couldn’t afford to slack off himself.

Mana refining, mana refining.

—

A month passed.

During that month, Zhong Shenxiu kept an extraordinarily low profile. Each day was spent refining mana, practicing spells, and teaching Peter a few fighting techniques. The only activity that stood out from this routine was treating members of various gangs who came seeking his help.

Since that day in the supermarket, it was as if every gang in Queens had heard the news; nearly every few days, someone would bring a couple of wounded men to Zhong Shenxiu’s door. The injuries were mostly things hospitals found difficult to treat: blindness, severed limbs, and the like. Judging by their words, Zhong Shenxiu had apparently helped them before, and so they treated him with easy familiarity, showering him with praise whenever they met.

When it was time to discuss payment, Zhong Shenxiu simply said, "The usual arrangement," and the visitors always offered a reward that satisfied both parties. In just one month, his wealth had nearly reached fifty thousand dollars—a considerable sum.

As for the original Zhong Shenxiu’s relationship with Kingpin, he had tried to probe for information. But at the mere mention of Kingpin, the gangsters turned pale as flour and fell silent.

Such was the terror inspired by the future king of America’s underworld.

But did Zhong Shenxiu gain any useful abilities over the past month? The answer was no. Despite using his healing technique for over two hundred seconds in total, he hadn’t acquired a single new power—bad luck, indeed.

Not that he cared much for abilities from ordinary people; his main reason for treating the gangsters was the income. If he wanted abilities, he’d have to look to superhumans.

His low profile had also paid off in other ways. The number of watchers around had dwindled to just two people, who now seemed to take turns merely for appearances’ sake. S.H.I.E.L.D. and other forces had sunk into silence, never contacting him again.

Zhong Shenxiu was pleased with this outcome; the less attention he attracted, the more he could quietly grow stronger. In fact, he’d already begun to plan: soon, he’d use Skrull Morphing at night to wander through other parts of New York, hoping to run into superhumans or mutants.

With the watchers growing lax, he knew that time was fast approaching.

His power had grown by leaps and bounds, too. His personal stats now read:

[Slacker System]
Host: Zhong Shenxiu
Combat Power: 37
Mana: 1342 (in mana absorption mode; absorbs 1 point every ten minutes)
Mental Power: 18/18 (recovers during sleep, 1 point per hour)
Passive Abilities: Medical Mastery, Gunfighting Mastery, Thief Mastery, Magic Mastery
Active Abilities: Mutant Healing Lv.1, Skrull Morphing Lv.1
1+1=3 Synthesis: Thief Mastery + ??? = ???, Magic Mastery + ??? = ???
Magic: Raikiri Blade, Pig-Slaughtering Knife, Mana Wave, Magic Shield, Blazing Spear (mana fire attribute, 40 mana), Thunder Spear (mana lightning attribute, 50 mana), Fleetfoot (mana wind attribute, increases self-speed, 3 mana per minute)
World Points: 142 (in the main world, increases by 1 every 24 hours)
Overall Rating: E+

[Main Quest]
Main World: None
Otherworld: Slay one Heroic Spirit (Fate/Zero)

[Side Quests]
1. Successfully use healing spell for 1000 seconds. Reward: one random Lv.2 active ability. (317/1000)
2. Help Peter resolve a school bullying incident on his own. Reward: +3 mental power. (0/1)
......

With the development of several powerful spells, Zhong Shenxiu’s combat power had soared from its initial abysmal state to 37.

A well-trained S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, Zhong Shenxiu estimated, would have about ten combat power—depending, of course, on their weapons. If they all carried rocket launchers, he’d take that back.

But more important than this rigid combat score was the thousand-plus mana he’d painstakingly accumulated. In recent days, he’d avoided testing large-scale, high-consumption spells, focusing instead on building up mana for emergencies.

For offense, he had "Raikiri Blade," a scalable spell whose power depended on his mana. With ten mana, Raikiri Blade could easily punch through a wall—even if the wall was a little shoddy. With a thousand mana? He could likely play the part of One Punch Man.

In case of massive explosions, like a missile strike, he could use "Magic Shield," another scalable spell. This would be his trump card in truly lethal situations.

Cautious as ever, Zhong Shenxiu resolved to keep at least a thousand mana in reserve.

"Xiu, are you home? I’m here!" came Peter’s youthful, exuberant voice from outside the door. For the past half-month, this familiar call had rung out at the same time every day.

Peter was here for his fighting lessons. Zhong Shenxiu was happy to oblige—after all, it was a good way to bond with the future Spider-Man, not to mention the three mental power points he’d earn as a reward.

"Here for another beating?" Zhong Shenxiu joked.

"Not today! I feel stronger already!" Peter replied, patting his chest.

Under Zhong Shenxiu’s tutelage, Peter’s personality had grown brighter by the day.

—

Beneath Ingram Street in Queens.

Blinding fluorescent lights made the underground space as bright as noon. The shrill, staccato beeping of alarms sent a chill through everyone present.

"Subject Zero is out of control! Subject Zero is out of control!!"

A man’s frantic shouts mingled with the chaotic sounds of escape and the shattering of reinforced glass.

Then, like a blazing inferno, a surge of crimson light swept over everything, plunging the area into sudden, deathly silence.

Had Zhong Shenxiu been present, he would have recognized it immediately: it was the same mysterious red light that had erupted from the prisoners during the riot.