Seriously, Chavez? I help you save your kid and you leave me with the bill for your coffee? For shame, man.

—❈—

The girls watch me as I walk back to our booth, and before I can sit down, Annie asks; “You told him?”

I nod. “He's rounding up the cavalry right now.”

“You think it'll be enough?” Keisha asks, watching as Det. Chavez jumps into his car and peels out onto the street, uncaring of incoming vehicles.

“Something tells me it is,” I say as the system graces me with its bountiful rewards.

Alert!

Quest [Save Louisa “Lulu” Chavez] Completed!

Rewards: $15,000. EXP 15,000. ?

Alert!

Quest [Save Louisa “Lulu” Chavez] bonus reward conditions met!

Conditions: complete the quest without leaving the diner. Give Anthony Chavez the opportunity to be the hero who saves his daughter.

Rewards: [Cutlery-kinesis]. [Skillbook Creation].

[Cutlery-kinesis]

Fine psychokinetic control over a maximum of five eating utensils.

[Skillbook Creation]

Convert any of your system given skills (bar [Skillbook Creation]) into a skillbook usable by anyone.

WARNING: this results in the permanent loss of the skill as gamer cannot use skillbooks.

Alert!

You have levelled up x8!

You are now level 23!

Wow. Okay. That last skill there is definitely an attention grabber.

Hmm, so I can give anyone any of my skills, huh?

Wait, even [Gamer's Body]? How would that work? Like eighty percent of my system abilities relies on [Gamer's Body].

And what about [Quest Generator]? Without it I can't get quests, which means I can't level, which means I'm screwed.

That's kinda terrifying to think about…

Terrifying or not though, no one can deny that this skill is a boon. I mean, the ability to hand out powers, specific powers no less, to specific people; that's priceless in any reality.

Sure, the argument could be made that it's my own power I'm handing out, thereby stunting my own growth, but even so, quantity is a quality all its own, and there are few people powerful enough to truthfully say they don't need anyone.

“Eugene,” Annie calls.

“Huh?” I pull my focus from thoughts of my system back to the world around me.

“You zoned out,” Annie says, then, with a thoughtful frown, asks; “Did the universe reward you for helping the detective?”

Her question catches me by surprise, until I remember that I had told her that the universe rewards me for doing stuff last night.

“Yeah, it did,” I reply.

“The universe rewards you?” Keisha asks.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Kinda,” I say. “You ever heard the saying ‘a good deed is its own reward’?”

“It's bullshit,” Keisha says immediately.

“Maybe,” I allow, “but not for me. For me a good deed is its own reward.”

“So, basically the universe is your sugar mama,” Keisha says.

“The sugariest,” I proclaim smugly.

Annie rolls her eyes at our antics.

We while away a few more minutes talking about nothing, but eventually, reality sets back in, and the conversation shifts back to what we were talking about before we were interrupted by Det. Chavez and his problems; our housing situation.

Keisha puts up some token resistance to me offering to cover rent, but when I reiterate that I'm fine, nay, I expect her to pay a share of it as soon as possible, she quickly folds.

With the matter resolved, Keisha decides to take her luggage back to Hiroshi-sensei's place (or, I guess hers now… well, actually, ours… huh), and it is only when we get back there that we realize that Annie is now not only homeless, but also propertyless.

The only things not lost to the fire are those that she left home with in her backpack this morning. And I gotta say, it's not much.

We decide to remedy that, and after I—with great effort—talk the girls into letting me pay, we head to the mall for some proper clothes shopping, where I get the pleasure of watching two beautiful women try out clothes for the rest of day.

I use the opportunity to pick up a few items for myself too; soap, towel, a phone, stuff like that. No clothes though, with [Outfit Customization] that'll just be a waste.

It's nice. We laugh, we hang out, and we spend hundreds of dollars on shit. I love it.

No dead body to get rid of, no talk of arsonists or shit heel landlords, and no [Gang Boss] to save a girl from. Just three young people hanging out, building bonds, and maybe probably flirting just a little bit.

Keisha cooks us dinner when we come back, Annie helps, and I'm banned from even thinking about doing anything besides sitting and watching.

The meal smells delicious, some sort of brothy noodle with a name that I forget as soon as Keisha says it.

“Itadakimasu,” I say as I'm served, and Keisha cocks an eyebrow at me.

“Anata ga jissai ni nihongo o hanasanai koto wa watashitachi futari tomo shitte imasu, dakara son'na kudaranai hanashi wa yamete kudasai,” she says in what to my subbed anime trained ears sounds like flawless Japanese.

I blink. “Nani?” I ask.

Keisha rolls her eyes, but I don't miss the small quirk of her lips.

The meal is good, and after it we work to set up the rooms for the night.

Annie and Keisha will be sharing the main bedroom, which used to be Hiroshi-sensei's, while I'll be using Keisha's old one.

The day's been pretty stressful, especially for Annie, considering what her last night was like and the fact that she hasn't had much sleep since, so the girls soon turned in for the night.

I go to bed too, but I don't sleep. I go online instead, trying to familiarize myself with whatever version of the DC Universe I've found myself in.

It's… familiar enough.

There's a Justice League, just officially formed late last year after the failed Dominator invasion.

I'm not much familiar with the Dominators, except from that Arrowverse crossover event, and these Dominators don't seem to be too different from those; lipless, skinny humanoids with a penchant for going everywhere buttass naked.

Anyway, they lost, repelled by the combined efforts of different supers from all across the world. And isn't that a surprise? A DC universe where other nations have supers? Abomination!

The Justice League was formed barely two weeks after that, an international first response agency with the noble mission to protect the Earth from any and all extraterrestrial threats.

Got that right off the website.

They have the backing of the U.N, and all member nations are required to contribute a small, fixed amount to its fund annually, though Wayne Foundation practically runs the whole thing.

Honestly, the more I peruse their website, the more The Justice League looks less like an organization of supers, by supers, for normals, and the more it looks like an international initiative put in place for the eventuality of another invasion.

The heroes run bimonthly (that's once every two months) drills, and they have detailed plans on their website for what to do as a civilian if you suddenly see alien ships raining down hellfire on your city.

That's interesting. I've always seen The Justice League as more of a global dogooder group; responding to natural disasters, doing charity events, all that jazz, but there doesn't seem to be any of that here.

Maybe it's just cause they're still new. After all, they've only had to work together once. Plus they're all busy people with busy double lives.

“Still awake?” Keisha asks, and I look up to see her standing at the open door to my room.

“Yeah,” I say. “New world, new history. Just keeping abreast.”

Keisha snorts.

I roll my eyes. “Child,” I tease.

She laughs softly and leans against the doorframe.

In the low light of the room, and with her short shorts and crop top that just teases to show some underboob, Keisha definitely cuts quite the figure; fit, strong, graceful.

I swallow.

“Thank you,” she says suddenly then sighs. “I'm not used to saying it, and I'm terrible at it, but…” her eyes meet mine in the low light. “Thank you, Eugene.”

I nod. “You're welcome.”

Keisha exhales like she's been holding it in for a while.

“Goodnight,” she says.

“Goodnight,” I say back and watch her walk away.