Actually, Finney didn't care about Skye's origins, but he understood it was a lingering knot in her heart. Even though she was happy with her adoptive family, she still longed to know why her biological parents had abandoned her.
"Skye, what if one day you had superpowers?" Finney suddenly asked. In this world, having power was better than having none. His desire to become stronger wasn't just for himself—it was to protect those he loved.
"Huh!? Me!?" Skye was stunned. She looked at Finney hesitantly and said, "Finney, you know we're not related by blood. I was adopted..."
Finney paused, then realized what she meant and rolled his eyes inwardly. If they were blood relatives, having superpowers would be the least of their concerns.
"Don't overthink it. Just imagine you had powers. Let's say... you had the ability to create vibrations—like shockwaves. What would you do?"
"Shockwaves?" Skye looked puzzled but noticed Finney's serious expression and started thinking. "I... I think I'd be scared at first. I'd feel like a monster."
She glanced at Finney to gauge his reaction, but his expression remained calm. Encouraged, she continued, "Then maybe I'd be curious—about where the power came from and what I could do with it."
"Shockwaves can do more than you think," Finney said. "They can cause earthquakes. If someone bullies you, you can make sure there's nowhere for them to stand within ten miles. You can even launch invisible air cannons—it's perfect for sneak attacks."
Skye thought he was joking and glared at him without replying.
Finney let it go. Despite the strength he had gained through the 'Evil Spirit' skill, he was still far from strong enough to face an organization like S.H.I.E.L.D. To truly solve Skye's problem, he needed more power.
He even considered taking Skye to learn magic and become a magical girl. But magic depended on talent, and the Ancient One hadn't agreed to teach him yet—he couldn't make promises he couldn't keep.
After their short conversation and a simple lunch, Finney didn't rush to the New York Sanctum right away. Instead, he went to his store as usual. Even though the store had been robbed yesterday, today's business remained unaffected.
On the way, Finney briefly thought about hiring a security guard. But since the store only opened when he was around and was otherwise closed, it didn't make much sense.
After a busy afternoon, and some experience gained from the emptied gauge, Finney wrapped up the weekend.
The next day, he returned to school. High school in the U.S. wasn't as demanding as in his previous life, but with graduation near, he wanted to keep his grades up.
As soon as he arrived, he noticed students whispering and pointing at him. Listening in, he realized it was about the incident with Carson.
"Did you hear? That genius Hellset beat up Carson."
"No way—Carson's on the basketball team!"
"Exactly. And I heard Carson was bleeding badly."
"Why did they fight?"
"Something about a girl, I think..."
Finney walked through the school with a resigned expression, ignoring the stares. He was used to attention—from skipping grades to being one of the best-looking students. With just about a month until graduation, he didn't care to explain.
He originally planned to attend college with Skye, but his parents strongly opposed that decision. They had high expectations for him because he had skipped a grade and ranked first.
Until yesterday, he hadn't known what or where he wanted to study. But after his encounter with the Ancient One, he had a plan.
He would stay in New York and major in ancient languages—perfect preparation for learning magic. He wasn't naïve enough to think all magical texts were in modern English.
Just as he solidified his plans, the other protagonist of the school rumors appeared.
"Hey, Hellset!" Carson, along with several basketball teammates, blocked Finney as he was leaving school.
"What's up?" Finney frowned as they surrounded him.
"Did you start those rumors about me?" Carson asked angrily. The wound on his mouth had healed, but a faint scar remained.
"Do I look that bored to you?" Finney responded flatly. He'd rather spend his time making more of his 'Viro Fried Chicken Rolls' to earn experience.
Carson stayed silent, staring at him, as if trying to read his expression.
"Look, if you've got nothing else to say, I'm leaving," Finney said.
"Apologize!" Carson snapped.
Finney blinked. "What?"
"Apologize to me in front of the entire school, and we'll let it go."
Finney laughed in disbelief. Was Carson serious? Sure, he understood the pride of a school athlete, but this was ridiculous.
"Go back to sleep. Maybe you'll get that apology in a dream."
Finney sidestepped to walk past him, but suddenly sensed movement. He dodged instinctively—and saw Carson had lunged at him.
"What's the meaning of this?" Finney asked, now angry. He rarely caused trouble, and while teachers respected him for his academic prowess, he had few friends. Some even called him a nerd behind his back. But he usually didn't care.
"Hellset, we don't want to fight either. Just apologize, and it ends here," Carson said, clenching his fists.
"And what if I don't?" Finney replied coldly.
If Carson had come to apologize for their earlier fight, Finney might've clarified things. But Carson had chosen the worst possible approach.
"Then don't blame me for what happens next!" Carson and his friends raised their fists. A few students nearby began watching.
Finney didn't waste time. He swung first—his punch landed squarely on Carson's face, sending blood flying.
Because of the 'Golden Great Technique', Finney avoided getting angry or yelling at people. If he wasn't careful, his words could literally become reality.
A normal person cursing someone to get hit by a car would be harmless. But if Finney lost control and wished the same—even casually—he could make it happen. And that was a risk he couldn't afford to take.