As he arrived at Winslow, Marcus wasn't feeling tired, but it had nothing to do with enjoying a nice night of sleep. No, realizing the scale of the problem that he was facing with Amy had been horrible enough that even Vicky's morning messages — with some very nice attachments — were able to fix his mood. He wasn't able to sleep a wink.
He wasn't tired, because he was able to use his new biotinker ability on himself just by taking a photo of himself. Dealing with exhaustion was trivial.
So was making some changes. He wasn't able to resist making some changes. More defined muscles, a slightly more symmetric face, some extra bulk, and a little posture adjustment. Nothing excessive when looked at alone, but together, they impacted his looks enough that he was getting more looks than he otherwise did.
That was not the limit of his changes. Better circulation, a slight regeneration that triggered when he was dealing with life-threatening wounds, and higher pain tolerance. He still didn't want to debut as a hero, but he was far more ready for it in case the circumstances forced him to do it.
He even made some bedroom adjustments. While he was more than happy with the general size of his cock, there was no harm in adding some extra endurance and the ability to recover faster. Nothing too excessive, but when he offered to fuck someone roughly all day long, it wouldn't be a brag.
Still, even with all those benefits, he was stressed. He was already dealing with a dangerous cape with the potential for easy mass murder, and he didn't expect to deal with a second, more dangerous one just as quickly.
It didn't help his mood when he arrived at the school and failed to find Taylor. Curious, he called her home. There was no answer. He sent her an email, curious. She sent a long one back, mentioning that she was sick, and wouldn't be able to attend school for a few days.
"Better than nothing," he muttered. As much as he was looking forward to seeing her, her skipping school was a blessing. It meant she wouldn't be tortured by the trio. And, he much preferred her going patrols during the daytime. It wasn't exactly safe — no such thing in Brockton Bay — but it was certainly better compared to what happens under the cover of the darkness.
Taylor taking her heroics seriously was a good thing, particularly since there was no actual news about her. He still sent a few messages to her to make sure everything had been going nicely.
The school gave Marcus a chance to catch up with his sleep. However, watching the trio chatting happily about Taylor's failure loudly where everyone could hear was less amusing. He was tempted to teach them a lesson, but he refrained.
Either Sophia or Emma was a cape, and he didn't want to risk getting caught by a possible ally.
Instead, he started thinking about how to make contact with Panacea. Luckily, Vicky was an obsessive when it came to texting. As they shared hundreds of messages, it was easy to let her reveal which hospital she would be dropping Amy at. All he needed was to suggest a sexy date aftermath.
One that he planned to attend, but not before paying some attention to Amy first. Luckily, while Vicky had written off the bet he suggested as a joke even before the end of their night — she was suitably distracted — Amy probably did not.
A naked photoshoot with Vicky was the closest thing to her dreams, a nice bait. But, he doubted that even with that, he could bait Panacea into his sketchy motel. A nice studio, on the other hand, would be different.
All he needed was some money.
He decided that some cape action was in order. It was earlier than he planned, but Amy's situation was a good reason to do so. Leaving her like that was more dangerous than avoiding a little fight.
At least, he had the necessary powers, he thought even as he drove back to his motel, and worked on cobbling together a decent outfit. He had his emotion sensing which lasted long enough to work as a tracker, his super strength also worked as a limited protection, and his latest power allowed him to heal himself.
Together with the improvements he had installed on himself, he was ready for some low-level adventure. Especially since he wasn't actually planning to take down capes.
No, he just wanted to take a stroll through the merchant territory. A low-level storage stash was all he needed to solve his immediate financial needs. Quickly in and out, simple.
Half an hour later, he was on a rooftop with a camera in hand, a mask covering his face as he took multiple photos, creating connections with several obvious drug dealers. Too bad he had to drop most of the connections soon after.
It seemed that he didn't receive Taylor's ability to multitask with her bugs, at least not to the same extent. Having connections to a dozen people had already been enough. He dropped the connections until he was dealing with only half a dozen people.
Drug-addicted dealers weren't exactly known for their willpower, so all he needed was to use his newly acquired power to hit them with cravings. Luckily, even the merchants weren't total idiots, so they didn't send their dealers to sell the drug they were addicted to. They went back to their safehouses, allowing Marcus to identify the locations.
Still, it was a slow-going process, so he had a chance to text a rental studio near Amy's hospital, and send a request to rent it for the evening. It cost him eight hundred dollars, which he sent.
Though, he enjoyed the irony of using the money he got from Carol in order to seduce Amy.
First two safe houses, he hit easily. Climbing through a window was enough. Unfortunately, they weren't exactly flush with cash, barely giving him a thousand. Not an insignificant amount of money for him, but not as much as he expected from robbing villains.
But, then, it was the Merchants. Hardly the peak of financial power.
He got luckier when he arrived at the third location. Almost a dozen armed guards around a huge vehicle that looked like it was born out of an orgy between a tank, a monster truck, and a weird cargo ship. One that was currently camouflaged with a half-active invisibility field.
One of Squealer's horror show tinker vehicles.
He would have retreated, if his power didn't show every single one inside the truck had been drugged out of their mind and currently having an orgy. All he needed was to change and go inside. Risky, but the perks were too big.
He stepped in, only to find Squealer 'entertaining' several members at the same time. It was not exactly an appealing sight, but the appeal of another superpower ensured that he stuck around. He found a nice corner to stay hidden and took several photos, enough to trigger his power, using his biotinker abilities to get them hyperfocused on their fun.
Once that was done, he walked out with a briefcase filled with cash. Fifty thousand was more than enough to solve every single problem he was facing.
He even sabotaged the truck as he left, but he didn't make any attempt to arrest them. He didn't want people to realize there was yet another cape skulking around the place.
"Not a bad job," he chuckled as he safely got away. At that moment, he understood why people decided to be villains. If a bunch of drug-addled fools had this kind of cash lying around, he couldn't even imagine how much money ABB or the Empire was making.
He particularly had a score to settle with the Empire, but he didn't plan to hit them anytime soon. Why should he, when he could easily stay behind and slowly get stronger. He didn't know if his power had a limit, but until he could discover it, he would do his best to stay concealed.
Once he was back in his motel, he quickly processed his newest pictures … and burned them the moment they developed. For once, he wasn't feeling conflicted while doing it. Squealer might have been a beautiful woman at one time, but Merchant life wasn't a pleasant one.
Still, while taking the photos had been an unpleasant experience, the results were anything but so. He had just received another power. Once again, it was diminished. It wouldn't allow him to go and build giant monster trucks armed with laser cannons, but he was happy. One that allowed him to solve one of his most persistent problems.
He could repair his car, and turning into a better driver was just a bonus. Of course, technically, he could have purchased one, but he wasn't willing to go around splashing that much cash. Someone might notice.
Repairing, on the other hand, was much more convenient.
Playing around with his car for twenty minutes had turned it from a barely moving bucket of rust back to the peak. He could have pushed further and turned it into a monster that could overtake any commercial sports car easily, but he refrained from that.
No need to go around shouting new Tinker. It was how people got grabbed by the gangs. Instead, he focused on limiting the application of the new power as he carefully fixed it without alerting anyone.
The power even allowed him to fix its outer casing slightly with little effort, which made it less like a rust bucket, and more like a distinguished classic masterpiece.
Though, as he worked, he understood one popular saying much more intimately.
Tinkers were truly bullshit.