Marcus was whistling happily as he drove in the dark streets, more than happy with the gains of the day. It might have been the most productive day he had ever experienced. He had made more money than he had ever seen, gained a new power that made him a better driver to solve his transportation problems, and improved his biotinker power.
Though, most importantly, he actually made Amy relax. It wasn't about his fun — though, it was incredibly fun — but about making Amy distract from a pile of dangerous obsessions. Vicky was one, and mental and physical exhaustion from overwork was another.
He didn't believe that he had solved all of Amy's problems. He wasn't even sure that he actually caught all of them. That girl was a bundle of issues that was hard to comprehend. Unfortunately, staying away from her meant that rolling dice about whether she would hit rock bottom one day and decide between a simple deadly flu or a zombie plague was the better way to destroy the world.
No, when the choice was between fucking a very sexy girl with a veritable range of issues and possible extinction, the choice was obvious.
Speaking of girls with issues, he had sent another mail to Taylor. He typed it while driving, glad that Squealer's power allowed him to drive perfectly even when distracted as well as repairing his car.
However, he was interested to notice that, while he had gained related abilities, there were no sudden designs in his mind that could turn the car into an invisible flying car. Some kind of peak sports car was his limit.
He wondered if it was about getting a weaker version of the power, or if it was the limit. But then, he shrugged. There was no point wasting time. He would learn better once he continued to target tinkers — preferably not disgusting ones.
"Should I go back to the motel," he muttered as he continued to drive, trying to decide on the merits. With his increased powers, he was safer even when he was walking around in the middle of the night … but only relatively so.
There was a big gap between safer and actually safe.
Then, there was another question. Whether to walk around in civilian clothes, or actually bother putting on a costume. The second one would allow him to interact with heroes — and some of the saner villains — more easily, but he wasn't sure if that was a good idea.
Particularly, he didn't know how they would react if an unknown cape suddenly started to take a lot of their photos.
"No, a costume is a very bad idea," he said once he pondered about it for a while. While it was tempting to go around and raid the villain's lairs as an independent hero, he asked himself one question. Did he really need that kind of money? He already had around forty thousand from today's raid, which could easily satisfy him for a year.
More if he actually decided to stretch it.
Of course, it wouldn't be a luxurious, comfortable life, but he had already lived his life in poverty. Compared to that, owning his own studio was already luxurious.
No, he just needed to play further into his photographer idea. Maybe convince Vicky and Amy to do a proper photoshoot or two, this time with a public set that he could actually publish, and lean into his photographer identity.
It was doable.
Though, the realization hit him soon. It was a viable plan, but only because he was living in the hellhole of a city. But, only this time, it was an advantage. As the city with the most capes per capita, he didn't need to actually work as a hero — or a villain — to interact with other capes.
As evidenced by a crash that was coming from a distance. One that was too loud for it to be anything but a cape fight.
He drove toward it, his camera already out, but he didn't step out of his car. Why should he, when it was his best option to get away safely. If forced, he could use his strength, but only then.
At a distance, he could see a large battle. At one side were Merchants, currently outside their territory, attacking wildly. Their capes were nowhere to be seen, but they did send one of the weird monster truck tanks Squealer loved so much.
On the other side, PRT was fighting. He could Vista was alone — another sign of horribleness as she was clearly a minor, and not just by one or two years. There was not a certain age to transfer from Wards to the hero roster. While most heroes moved when they reached twenty-one, there were few who chose to stay until their mid-twenties, especially if their powers weren't geared for combat. Being a part of Wards meant that they weren't targeted by Villains aggressively.
Of course, that was true for cities saner than Brockton Bay. Here, they were clearly happy sending a young girl, probably fourteen or fifteen, to fight against a bunch of drugged-out henchmen riding a giant tinkertech vehicle.
To her credit, Vista was working excellently against it. She stretched or condensed the space around her as she wished, not only keeping herself safe but also the PRT agents she was supporting. The skill that was required was considerable.
Though, even as he took the first photo and felt the connection, he knew that he wouldn't be able to get too much from her. Even as she fought against multiple people with guns, she was calm and professional, almost bored. Which meant, the feedback from her power would be negligible. However, he still stayed and took photos.
There were two reasons for this. First, her power had incredible utility. Even a weak variant had the potential to turn out very useful. He wouldn't say no an ability to move faster, for example. When it came to survival, every bit counted.
Then, there was the other advantage. Since he had received his power, he had been doing his best to read any relevant laws when it came to photography. What counted as public photos, in which cases people had a right to privacy, and what were the implications of trying to sell a photo without a release form.
A battle like the one he was watching qualified as a public interest story, which meant he didn't need any release form to actually sell the photos. While PRT had some rights to block photos showing strategic information, they mostly abused it to suppress anything unflattering for them.
Showing one of their Wards defending easily against a tank should be something they would enjoy. He didn't expect to earn a lot of money from them, but he didn't care about it. He didn't need money.
He needed a portfolio that showed him as a serious photographer. Fun studio photos with Vicky was fun, but it had its limits. Having a reason to poke around cape battles was much more advantageous.
Once he finished taking two sets of photos from a distance, he drove away. He had the right to photograph the fight, but that wouldn't prevent one of the PRT agents from 'accidentally' stepping on his camera.
It was better safe than sorry, particularly with a new photo in line.
Once he arrived at his motel, he focused on processing the latest photos rather than leaving immediately. A good choice, as midway in, he finally received a message from Taylor, confirming that she was well, and he didn't need to worry.
Marcus certainly did. Responding late meant that she was patrolling. The city was too dangerous for a solo hero, particularly one with a very restricted power like her. There were many villains that could bypass her ability to control bugs easily.
'I'm still worried. Will you be at school tomorrow,' he asked.
'Likely not. I'm a bit sick,' she wrote back.
'Then, we'll meet after school. I have a surprise for you,' he wrote. He not only wanted to see her but also wanted to use the photoshoot as an excuse to pay her some money and boost her confidence at the same time.
She responded, noncommittal, which triggered a long email chain until she finally accepted. Something to celebrate.
Then, the power he had received from Vista materialized, and his smile widened even further. Just as he feared, the power he had received from her was weak enough that it wouldn't have mattered. It was just a small ability to bend the light, one that allowed him to zoom further with his camera without getting closer.
An incredible benefit, especially since it seemed that it stacked well with the original closeup effect from the lens. "Fascinating," he muttered.
It wouldn't be helpful for any kind of studio photo, but his planned career as a public photographer suddenly gained a major boost.
Fascinating indeed… However, rather than posting directly, he scanned the photos, scanned a sample, and sent them to local newspapers. He wasn't really hopeful that he could sell them. That was why he also added that he was willing to give them free of charge as long as the photos were attributed to him.
It was easy to be generous when he had all the drug money he had stolen.
With everything finally complete, he threw himself to bed. It was sleep time.
He deserved it.