I fiddle around Sophia's desk while she sleeps. After shifting one of the table legs and pushing a button hidden near her head I opened a secret compartment. Inside were sweets. Lots and lots of sweets. Several pastries such as doughnuts, cupcakes, and cinnamon rolls were tucked inside still wrapped in the plastic coating. There were also tens of candy bars all of varying flavors. They all had one thing in common though. They were all Morton's brand. A very expensive brand but each bite of their confections has enough sugar to kill an adult. I really want to try one. The call of the forbidden fruit was just too great. But, it was all for nothing, as I was about to touch a cupcake, a hand clamped down on my arm tightly, stopping all movement. I turn my head slowly to look at the enraged gaze of Sophia. She shuts the compartment closed with audible force.

"We're going on patrol. Now." Her eyes are filled with malice, as if the usual hypnotic effect isn't enough, now there is a fear of God effect as well. With the will to live another day, I obey her command. We go out the same way we came in. I don't even know how she navigates this place. It's a complete maze. Somehow we come back to the main entrance. She turns to me. "Today we are going on patrol. Usually we coordinate with the police force for the high crime rate areas. The stronger the hero, the worse the area is. I typically get the worst places as I can operate out of sight, but I requested for a different area today as your first outing."

Once outside she warps us away. The surrounding area is covered in advertisements of all kinds, with a large amount of foot traffic, and the people dressed as characters from popular media. We're in Times Square. "Why are we here?" "The main objective here was all of the costumes. Yes, there is still a moderate amount of crime, but it's still less compared to other, less populated, areas due to one deterrent. People can't tell if the ones in costumes are just mascots or if they are actually heroes. Criminals are less likely to commit something if there is a high chance for them to fail. There's even a chance for them to lose their life." "Wouldn't some attempt it anyway?" I retort to her explanation. "Of course. There is still a reason we have to patrol, you know? We gotta earn that paycheck! So follow me!"

Patrol is really boring and monotonous. Sophia said that it's good nothing is happening and I understand why, but it's just…I expected more. We loop the area a couple times and then sit on one of the billboards to rest. We continue doing this for a few hours. "Hey Sophia." "Mmm?" "Why is it that no one notices us up here?" I dangle my legs over the board. "Someone should have noticed us." Sophia sits down next to me. "It's simple. Everybody minds their own business. Plus they assume we're probably heroes, which we are. And if you remember, I kind of have a reputation as one of the stronger heroes." I accept her explanation without complaint. I still need to complete Thomas' task that he assigned me. I wonder if the elements have any connection to their real counterparts. If so, then I might have to do some experimentation with transforming mana in set environments. Though I do wonder, there are certain heroes that are capable of using the fused mana in their attacks. Does that mean that they can also use the lower mana just as well or does the affinity only constitute gaining the mana and not using it. A possible answer is that the affinity is difficult to gain due to genetics but once they get it fused that changes. Thus having the outcome be their set affinity, but lower mana generation for other types. Even the required mana. I think that's how it might work, but I'll have to confirm with Thomas.

"Hey, do you want something to eat?" Sophia speaks up.

"Sure." We drop down to have lunch at one of the many hot dog stands around.

After Sophia gets our food we sit down at a nearby bench. I've got to be honest. This day is a lot calmer than I thought it would be. Ever since that fated night and one, possibly idiotic, decision, my life has been really hectic. We sit in silence as we eat. The processed meat is ground up easily by my teeth. Thinking about my teeth, I had sharp teeth before my evolution, but I got the skill after. Another thing to ask Thomas. I am really thinking today, huh.

[ Through emergency actions skill: Poison Resistance(Minor, Passive) has ranked up to Poison Resistance(Medium, Passive) ]

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

I regret my own thoughts.

"Sophia. My poison resistance went up." I whisper in her ear. "Why do you have poison resistance?" "I got it after eating at a food chain." "Did you get the skill recently?" "Yes." "Alright. I think my husband is up to something. He made me take several antidotes with me. You drink this. I'll go check the hot dog stand." She hands me a small vial sealed with wax. The contents of the vial have a weird consistency, similar to molasses, and tasted like hand sanitizer. All in all, would not drink again.

Sophia, meanwhile, was intimidati- I mean, questioning the stand runner. Though from what I can gather on their conversation, he really doesn't know anything. Wait. I'm an idiot. I have Telepathy.

'Why is this crazy person yelling at me? So what if their friend got food poisoning? I sell hot dogs for a living, not out to kill.'

I grab Sophia's shoulder and pull her away. After telling her the guy's thoughts she looks at the ground and gingerly walks back to the stand and apologizes. She comes back with a somber and guilty aura around her. Sophia is just too hotheaded. This is my mentor, who desperately needs to calm down.

We leave behind the subject of lunch. But before we can continue our patrol, Sophia receives a call. So, as mentioned before, the heroes took up a large part of the first responder's jobs. They, of course, are still around. Just not as large or efficient. This is why Sophia and I are on our way to a nearby cafe.

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"Ma'am, you cannot curse out the employees." Sophia gently tells the furious lady while rubbing her temples. We had been called to mediate between a customer and a worker over a messed up order. The teenager working had been amiable, but the customer was being less than cooperative. She was some middle aged woman dressed in thin framed glasses and had her hair parted to one half of her head. The rest of her attire looked as though she went digging through the discount bin in the corner of stores. Needless to say, it was complete trash, but she flaunted her body like just dating her is some huge achievement like winning the lottery. Her every action screamed 'entitled' and, fortunately for me, Sophia had to question her while I got the nicer teenager.

"So, this lady came in, right? Walking in like she owned the place, but she doesn't, Luis does, and I was thinking like 'aww man, I got to deal with one of these?' Then she orders her tall, half-caffeinated soy latte at specifically 124 degrees. And I was all like, 'who the hell drinks that?' But like a good minimum wage worker, I made her drink. When I served it to her, she pulls out this thermometer from who knows where and complains that it was 125 degrees." His rant continues with my amazement at his lack of need to breathe.

"I was thinking, just another one of these days right, so I do my usual, I'll remake it again, before I just go into the back and wait a minute before bringing it back out, because I ain't making that again, but instead this person says, 'You better fucking make it right this time' and chucks the drink at me." He gestures to the spill a few feet behind him. "I was so ready to fight, but my buddy and supervisor, Chris, told me to chill and he called 911, so here we are." The teenager, Julius, wraps up his story.

At this moment, the supposed offender butts in, shouting "I expect payment." Julius responds confused and waving his arms. "For what?" "For the therapy needed to heal my mind of the injustice HE gave to me and for the damage you caused my body. I have the marks to prove it." Julius's head snaps back to me, his arm pointing at her, and his face saying, 'Can believe this shit?'

Sophia staggers over to me, both tired and infuriated with these events. Honestly, I'm surprised she is still standing. At this moment, a person came from the back, wearing a slightly different shade of uniform than Julius and had a name tag that said 'Chris'. "Excuse me, my name is Chris. I'm the supervisor today, and I would like to point out that we do have video." At his words, the lady straightens up with a pale face and Julius grows excited.

The human-shaped garbage tries to run, but Sophia's threads shimmer into existence and wrap her up, similar to how I was when we first met. Upside down, but with more flailing and muffled screams.

The video proves Julius' statement true, he just downplayed her threat. A lot. She actually grabbed a knife out of her purse and swung at him, he stood there calmly as the knife approached. When her arm was near, he grabbed her wrist and arm, with a tight squeeze, you hear her wrist pop and she drops the knife in pain, where he then shifts her bone back into place, leaving no damage behind. Sophia and I share a glance that tell each other the same ideas.

When we got back, Sophia chucks a file she compiled in the back, to the processing office, while the lady gets a dropped into a portal, heading into detainment. We leave the cafe with a job well done.