Less than thirty minutes after the bank incident began, the entire internet had already latched onto it.
Across major American news sites and social platforms, photos of Noah Vale were everywhere. Security footage, blurry phone captures, and zoomed-in stills spread like wildfire.
Not because of the robbery itself.
Because of him.
Comments flooded every post.
"Okay but why is the hostage ridiculously attractive?"
"This man just made my entire day."
"Hold on. Why does the guy being robbed look like he walked out of a movie?"
"Can everyone stop staring at my future husband?"
Millions of views piled up within minutes. The story kept spreading, gaining more traction by the second.
Meanwhile, Noah Vale's mood couldn't have been worse.
He had just returned from outside the bank, where crowds of reporters and police vehicles were gathering. Even helicopters had begun circling overhead.
Exactly what he didn't want.
He'd only had the system for a few days. His strength was improving fast, but he still wasn't at the level where he could openly stand in the spotlight.
If someone like Captain America showed up right now, Noah wasn't confident he could win.
And yet somehow, fate had shoved him into the center of a national news story.
Great.
Just perfect.
As he stepped back into the lobby, the four gunmen who had been watching him earlier closed in around him.
They seemed pleased with how obedient he had been.
The leader gave him an approving nod.
"Gotta say, kid—you've got guts. Most hostages are shaking by now."
His eyes drifted to Noah's suitcase.
"And that case you brought in earlier. Tons of cash… and that gold sphere." He frowned. "What's a student doing with stuff like that?"
Noah answered flatly.
"Found it."
He shrugged.
"If you're done asking questions, I'm going back over there."
He forced himself to stay calm.
Just a little longer.
The killing intent rising in his chest pressed against his ribs like steam inside a sealed pipe. Noah ignored the men and tried to step past them toward the other hostages.
One of the robbers blocked his path.
"What's with the attitude?" the man sneered. "You're a hostage. Try acting like one."
He looked Noah up and down with an ugly grin.
"Pretty boy like you… maybe entertain us for a bit."
The man reached out, greasy fingers moving toward Noah's face.
The hand never made contact.
Noah caught his wrist midair.
The robber blinked.
"Oh? You're fighting back now?"
He tried to yank his arm free—
And froze.
Because Noah was looking at him.
Cold.
Silent.
Full of something that made the man's stomach twist.
A soft sound echoed.
Then pain exploded in his chest.
The robber looked down just in time to see Noah's hand buried inside his torso.
Blood spilled across the floor.
Noah slowly pulled his arm back out.
Scarlet droplets slid from his fingers as he flicked them aside with visible disgust.
"You have any idea," Noah muttered quietly, "how long I've been holding back from killing you idiots?"
For a split second, the entire lobby fell silent.
Hostages.
Robbers.
Everyone stared in disbelief.
Noah didn't waste time explaining.
Four armed men surrounded him.
His right arm moved.
Three punches exploded out in less than half a second.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The sound wasn't quite like fists hitting flesh.
It sounded closer to artillery.
Three robbers were launched backward as if struck by invisible sledgehammers. Their bodies flew several meters before crashing into the marble floor.
Their faces had collapsed inward.
Skulls shattered under the force of the blows. Blood and pale fragments forced their way out through eyes, noses, and mouths.
Only then did the first robber—the one whose heart Noah had torn out—finally drop to his knees.
In the blink of an eye, four of the seven gunmen were already dead.
One heart ripped out.
Three skulls crushed.
Noah exhaled slowly through his teeth.
"You morons," he said quietly. "Not one of you is walking out of here alive."
The remaining two robbers finally snapped out of their shock.
Their submachine guns swung up.
They opened fire.
Noah had already seen it coming.
His foot slammed against the floor.
CRACK.
The tile beneath him shattered.
His body launched forward like a coiled spring releasing.
He crossed nearly ten meters in a single burst of motion.
Bullets chased the space he had occupied moments before, hammering into the wall behind him.
Three seconds later, the robbers' magazines ran dry.
Before either man could reload—
Noah was already standing in front of them.
His hand was still dripping blood.
The first robber stumbled backward in terror.
Noah raised his arm high—
And brought it down.
The strike fell like an executioner's axe.
Starting at the shoulder, the man's body split cleanly in two.
Bone.
Muscle.
Organs.
All torn apart in a single motion.
Blood sprayed across the bank lobby like a crimson fountain.
Noah turned his head slowly.
Only one robber remained.
The leader.
To the man staring back at him, Noah no longer looked human.
He looked like something ancient.
Something that hunted.
The robber's hands trembled as he raised his pistol and fired.
Three shots.
Noah tilted his head slightly.
Each bullet missed by inches.
At Noah's current level, his mind could already anticipate the trajectory of a handgun shot. And with strength beyond normal human limits, his body could react before the trigger even finished being pulled.
The leader emptied his gun.
By the time the last shot echoed through the lobby—
Noah was already standing right in front of him.
He grabbed the man by the collar.
Then slapped him.
Hard.
"Let me ask you something."
SMACK.
"If you don't even have the skills for it—"
SMACK.
"—why the hell are you robbing banks?"
The robber's head snapped sideways with each blow.
Noah kept talking as if he were lecturing a particularly disappointing student.
"You think this is some kind of game?"
SMACK.
"You can't even rob a teller properly and you're standing here acting like a crime boss."
SMACK.
"What kind of amateur operation is this?"
Noah had pulled his strength back significantly.
Even so, the man looked like he was being slapped by a grizzly bear.
His thoughts turned to static.
Bones cracked under the repeated impacts.
Eventually, the robber stopped moving.
Dead.
Noah released the body.
The corpse collapsed onto the blood-soaked marble floor.
He looked down at his shirt, now completely stained red.
Annoying.
He brushed at the fabric with mild irritation.
Technically, this was the first time Noah had personally killed someone.
Yet his emotions remained steady.
Years spent surviving in the criminal underworld had already burned away any illusions he might have had about violence.
This was simply reality.
Noah walked over to the pile of stolen cash in the corner and retrieved his suitcase.
Then he turned and headed toward the bound hostages.
The moment they saw him approaching, many instinctively shrank backward.
Blood covered his clothes.
A thin streak of it even ran across his cheek.
Noah stopped in front of the young bank clerk who had helped him earlier.
He crouched down and calmly untied the ropes binding her wrists.
The woman stared at him in stunned silence.
Noah slid his suitcase across the floor toward her.
Then he gave a small, polite smile.
"Could you open an anonymous account for me?"
He tapped the suitcase.
"Something… discreet."