Stepping to the side of the tent Frank reached out his hands and grabbed a group of air-sealed vacuum flat-pack bags from the box before closing it and manually setting it to wipe all data and traces of his DNA. The same hissing sound came out as it slid back into position and ran through a pre-set process, anything else lying around he’d have sufficient time to throw it in before it was reduced to a fine layer of liquid ash that would be later washed down a connected sewer vent.

After entering the plastic tent he began to strip off his clothes a piece at a time, folding each one on the dark green floor. If he could then he’d be donating these to the charity including his shoes once he’d had them all cleaned but in this particular situation, he’d need to roll them up in the pop-up tent when done and throw them into a trash can on the way back.

Given that he was wearing jeans, brown work boots and a black t-shirt it was all pretty plain clothing anyway. Nothing special or particularly noticeable and it could all be thrown away without notice. If a man had a moustache every single day and grew it for years on end until they one day decided to shave it off, you’d feel like you were looking at a different person for a moment. Frank considered the same with clothing, if you dressed in casual, simple, basic fashion for months on end when you wore an entirely different outfit it would be far harder to recognise a person.

It was the main reason that so many supes chose to wear their bright, colourful costumes. Throw away the cape, accessory belt and add-on wings and switch to street clothes and it was unlikely that anyone would recognise you on the street. Not unless it was one of the big ones anyway, the villains and the heroes. Those with real power, money, and influence. They needed to be noticed, in costume or a business suit.

One of the main powerful ones in the city Protector had gone down that route. Trading in actually helping people and superhuman fights for commercial opportunities and adverts, it did keep the extreme levels of violence and property damage down so it wasn’t all bad but he still wanted to show off his presence to the world. Fancy costumes flying down to rescue people in industrial accidents or emergencies where buildings caught fire.

Still, Frank stuck with his principles of hiding in plain sight. It was a choice born out of necessity rather than practicality. A single human in a world full of freaks with so-called superpowers with no real military training or backup wasn’t going to last a long time if one of the supervillains decided they wanted a cut of his business in return for protection or an absence of violence and pain.

After stripping off his jeans, socks and work boots, Frank was standing by himself inside the pop-up tent almost nude except for one last item of clothing. Red trunks, are not to be donated to charity. The underwear he always threw them away not out of respect but because he loved his red classic trunks, and it was hard for him to dispose of them on an emotional level. The fact that he didn’t like the idea of a random stranger walking around in a pair of his favourite underwear did not appeal to him.

Yeah, a thought I don’t need in my mind. Thanks, overactive imagination. She could be right and I should try to go on a few dates. Now to take off the rest.

Now, completely naked he grabbed one of the vacuum-sealed bags and tore it open, its plastic coating ripping apart with a slight tearing sound. The first bag that he opened contained a disposable hair spray, it’d wash out easily enough but changing the colour of his hair to a light blue was better than leaving it noticeable. Even if he wore a mask, his brown hair with a silver streak would be recognisable. He needed to keep the identity private at all costs.

Is this how costumed supes think all the time?

Frank began to quickly dress in his favourite party favours but left a few of the bags to the end. He’d need to make a strong impression, after all, the copy-cats would appreciate it and so would Benny. Well, she had her fashion tastes, but she might think that he looked slightly better this way. She had always told him that he needed to look better, somehow, he thought that his current outfit wouldn’t be the best choice though. Too flashy for one thing. He didn’t need to spend money on clothing to show that he ran a successful supplier business.

One of the packs contained a large, baggy plain grey hoodie with no adornments or details added to it. Frank figured that it ought to do a decent job of wearing it over the suit jacket and it would cover part of his trousers. Once he raised the hood over his head, he’d just be another person walking down the street, at least until he got close enough to his shop to dispose of it. Another of the bags contained a voice-changing device which would cover him well enough when he was wearing a mask, it’d alter his voice to sound far older like a man in his fifties at least.

Regardless of the actions of the government supe Agent Evie, he’d still need to take the chance and go ahead with his plans. It was a shame that he didn’t know her exact power set though, just calling herself by a codename Golden wasn’t going to be a direct advertisement of her skills. Nobody was stupid enough to do that. Ok, well actually a lot of supes were but she was a civil servant. Stupid soya milk and pastry request. He doubted that she’d easily notice him when he was fully dressed up once he had a few modified technical enhancements in place.

He’d be fully shielded before it burnt out. She wasn’t high level though; he was sure of that. No way would one of the big ones end up working directly for the government and turn up in a low-level area like his. At least he prayed that they wouldn’t, they were worse than acts of nature when they were backed by private companies looking for pure profit.

He left the hoodie as he carefully unpacked all of the clothes and put them in one corner of the tent making sure that his clothes and any waste including the sealed bags were placed in another corner ready to be properly disposed of. He looked at one of the sealed bags and decided to hold onto one, it might come in useful later especially if he needed to discreetly carry a package that he didn’t want to be recognised.

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When in doubt, you needed to dress to impress, especially if you were dealing with a particular branch of society who liked to pretend to have genuine superpowers and dressed up. He’d have to face up to the real threat of supes eventually, but he’d need to be crazily prepared and a little out of his mind to go down that road. Money solved so many problems when you combined it with an awful lot of pre-planning and custom-modified technology.

‘The things that I need to go through for the sake of idiot clients.’ Frank sighed softly to himself.

To get dressed like this and try his best to cover his tracks always made him feel emotionally drained. He still had to get himself into character though for his performance, a touch of the theatrical combined with drama, this particular crowd always appreciated the class and a threatening personality. They lived for it.

Frank made sure that all of his attire had been straightened out before he stuffed the sealed flat pack bags into the top of the box into a slot that slid open, it closed as soon as the bags quickly visited and continued its wiping process. It would destroy all traces of any of his DNA evidence although he doubted that he would be easily recognised in his current attire. As for the alleyway, he could always dump food or set one of the drones to give it a quick chemical wash when he left to make sure that it was clean enough. There was a reason that no self-respecting supe would change into their costume in a smelly, dirty-looking alleyway. Ego. Unless they had a fetish for it, Frank doubted that he’d be noticed easily leaving the immediate area.

He just needed a few vital pieces of equipment to block any unnecessary attention from wandering supe heroes who were looking for a random street fight to boost their already bloated egos. Ideally, he’d pass for another smartly dressed normal citizen unless someone looked under his hoodie and searched him. Sometimes it felt like he was a secret drug dealer or underground arms dealer. Selling the remnants of demi-god domestic spats and the spit and hairs they left behind in the dirt for precious coins.

It was one of the few ways that he could generate enough money to get around the lack of government intervention. He didn’t know how many businesses or people would have been forced to move on or declare bankruptcy without his help. He gave because he could.

One day. Those heroes and villains will pay, if not by his hands, then through a borrowed knife. Not all of them though.

Despite the thoughts that he held for others and the fact that he did try to make as much money as possible, it wasn’t realistic for him to dump enough to make everyone in the local area an overnight millionaire. He had worked it all out with her, too much money easily thrown about would be trackable. Most of it went into select accounts that he had modified under different names, one of the benefits of his best friend being involved in a religion that doubled as an energy supplier.

She had better access to direct contacts than would ever be possible for him given his relative youth. The fact that he had been able to build a successful business over a year had seemed near impossible but a business loan arranged by her combined with his skill with supe specialised technology seemed to work wonders.

He had plans for his growing wealth. Hidden but fully recognised and supported by Benny. She seemed fairly ambivalent about the whole deal though, as long as he didn’t do anything to cause issues with her electric goddess or directly risk his own life, she didn’t seem too fussed about it. He did feel odd on occasion about the help that she offered him and her friendship.

Nothing ought to be free. Not even friendship.

Frank realised that he’d need to do something that he’d been dreading for a while now. He could try to put it out of his mind as long as possible but it would need to be done. The hoodie of pink rich rainbow goodness would need to come out of his wardrobe and be worn in the shop. He owed Benny that much, tomorrow though, he’d do it then once he’d dealt with the wannabes and rescued her from being harassed by dress-up addicts. No shoes though, he’d put a hard line on wearing pink shoes no matter how much she wanted it.

For now, he needed to make sure that his clothes were on and prepared for action. One little slip-up would mean that he’d lose control over the immediate situation. It made Frank more concerned than usual. Gloves, he remembered that he needed gloves for his hands.

Now, that he was fully dressed Frank looked as though he was a completely different person. He wore a light grey suit combined with smart pre-polished boots and a pure brilliant white shirt. Brown leather gloves are a final touch. The suit was a custom fit that he had paid for through an intermediary finance system from Giorgios. He and Sebastian had been quite happy with the amount paid for the work done but had no clue about the buyer.

Frank had always deliberately avoided going into the shop, claiming that he preferred his usual attire. Thankfully, the shop had only outsourced the suits as it did with other luxury goods rather than produce them in-store. Otherwise, it would have been noticed easily when he wore it on the street, not that he would be dressed like this for too long, only for the duration of the auction.

He’d be wearing the suit for the duration of his little encounter in the shop before he needed to dispose of it. The last detail was several richly detailed colourful masks which he decided to delay putting on his face and left inside his suit jacket pocket for the moment untouched. No, he had forgotten one finishing touch before covering his face. The rest of his body was covered, trousers and socks, shirt and jacket covered but it was his hair that would remain noticeable.

The mask had been a gift from Shelly of sorts. She had claimed that there had once been a particular supe who was known as a villain with a thousand faces. The particular powered individual was relatively unknown at the time and appeared to have disappeared before they made their debut onto the supe scene. In her shop, she claimed to have come into a collection of masks that were to have been worn but never actually used. The supe in question had just vanished before they made any real appearance. No further details were provided aside from the prohibitive cost that she charged Frank despite saying that she was trying to offer him a deal with a silver cape thrown in for free.

Frank was sceptical about using them but he had been told by her that a brilliant artist had designed them to be used once before they simply disintegrated into fine powder. Each mask stuck on the face easily without the need for any adhesive, it made it far easier for him to wear them. Occasionally though Frank felt an itch in the back of his skull each time he put one on, it wasn’t uncomfortable but strong enough that he would notice it. The risk of wearing anything that came from a supe in his mind is that they would have a taint to them, not as bad as an infection, he didn’t want to become of the extreme pro-human movements but he needed to make sure his thoughts were entirely his own.

Thoroughly Frank was truly not a fan of the so-called Gifted. He’d learned to live with them during the short time that he awoke from his coma but the fact that normal people chose to dress up in costumes and fight each other in the streets and above cities to get attention was a sign that something had gone wrong in the process.