"Let's start hunting."
Alex whispered the words, his voice barely a breath against the cool night air, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as his eyes gleamed with excitement.
First, let's go to Morgan's house. The thought of it sent a thrill through his veins, anticipation buzzing in the air like static before a storm. The night stretched out before him, dark and sprawling, the world around him quiet and still as though holding its breath.
------
He made his way down the street, the soft patter of his footsteps muffled by the thick fog that had rolled in. Moonlight bathed the road in a silvery glow, casting long, eerie shadows across the cracked pavement. As Alex approached a towering, intimidating building—Morgan's base—the cold air seemed to hold a sense of foreboding, the faint scent of oil and metal drifting up from the structure. No mistaking it.
With a burst of energy, Alex broke into a sprint, his legs moving with fluid precision, his breath steady but faint in the cool night air.
He leaped over fences, his fingers grazing the rough wood of the posts, the wind rushing past his ears like a whisper.
He dashed across open ground, the scent of damp grass filling his nostrils.
Third floor. One leap.
His fingers found the cool metal of window frame with ease. It reminded him of the raw power of this new body. It was effortless.
"This body is insane... I feel completely free."
Slipping inside the room, the faint smell of stale air and dust hit him.
The room was dimly lit, and in the bed, a terrible-looking face with an awful haircut was sleeping.
"It's fucking Helmeppo's room."
He moved through the corridor, the soft creak of floorboards beneath his feet the only sound in the otherwise quiet building.
The smell of old wood mixed with the faint scent of burnt food, suggesting someone had been in a hurry. After checking some rooms and finding nothing of interest, he headed to the top floor.
The air grew colder, and a draft whispered through the cracks in the walls.
The lock on the door was stubborn, but with a twist and a shove, it broke. A massive safe loomed in front of him, its cold, metallic surface gleaming faintly in the dim light.
"Bingo."
But how do I open this? I could definitely break it, but that would make a lot of noise.
"Okay, let's do this."
I'll try to make as little noise as possible. Even if someone comes, I'll take the gold and transport it with my power. I gripped the giant steering wheel-like handle. It made noise as I tried to pull it.
"Creeeaaaak..."
"Here goes nothing."
"BRRROOOMMMMM..."
The safe door popped open with a thunderous echo that shattered the silence like a cannon shot. The sound rang through the building, vibrating in Alex's chest.
Downstairs, Morgan jolted awake.
"What happen now?" he said, walking down the hall. All the marine soldiers started moving too.
"Sir Morgan, we think there's an intruder. The sound came from the top floor,"a soldier reported, his voice strained with panic.
"Nooooo..."Morgan's voice was high and furious.
"Go catch him! I want him dead—right now!"Morgan's orders rang out, sharp and urgent.
"Who has the guts to attack my base?! I'll make sure he gets the worst death imaginable. Anyone who tries to attack my base will think a hundred times before doing it again!" Morgan shouted, running to the top floor.
The only thing on his mind was his treasure.
When he entered the room, he saw the safe door broken. He slowly walked up to it. All he sees is emptiness.
"Find him! He's definitely still nearby!" he ordered.
"Yes, sir!" the soldiers shouted in unison and started searching everywhere.
Alex, meanwhile, was back on Earth, sitting on his sofa and breathing heavily.
"Somehow, I managed to take everything and transport it here. There are like thirty boxes," he said.
I'm gonna sleep and check what's inside later. I haven't rested in a while.
He lay down on the sofa and closed his eyes, quickly falling into a deep sleep.
Right now time 4 o'clock pm.
----------
Time passed, and sunlight streamed through the window, gently warming his face. The soft hum of the morning filled the room. The clock now read 8 o'clock pm. He groaned softly, stretching as the warmth of the sun.
He slowly woke up.
"Aaaah..."
Alex opened his eyes, blinking against the light. The excitement of the previous night still lingered in the back of his mind, and he sat up, the cool air brushing against his skin as he took in the sight of the thirty boxes stacked around the room.
Let's eat something, then I'll check what's inside the boxes.
He stood and headed to the bathroom, the sound of his footsteps echoing faintly in the quiet room. After a quick morning routine, he returned with wet hair, feeling the cool drops evaporate as he dressed in a simple white T-shirt and black pants. Even in something so ordinary, he felt a strange sense of confidence, like a model in everyday attire.
Now I'm hungry. I don't have my phone, but I do have a spare one in my room.
He walked upstairs to find a spare phone, the faint scent of dust from the old house lingering in the air. He opened a drawer and pulled out the phone.
"Found it," he said.
I ordered food online: rice, curry, fried chicken, soup, and some snacks.
That should be enough.
I went to the living room. It was time to check what was in the boxes.
I sat down, very excited, and opened the first box.
"Wow!"
It was full of gold coins. I picked one up and examined. The second, third, and fourth boxes were also filled with gold. The fifth box contained a painting. As soon as he picked it up, I recognized it—it is sketch of Skypiea.
"I don't have words to describe this artwork," he said.
I kept looking through all the paintings, mesmerized. Most boxes were filled with gold. Some had paintings, others had old relics, and a few had mysterious items.
"Tan-nannn..."
The bell rang—it sounded like his food had arrived. He walked to the door and opened it.
"Good evening, sir," the delivery guy said.
"Good evening," Alex replied.
"Here's your order," the man said.
"Thank you." Alex said
He took a seat at the table as the smell of warm fried chicken and rice filled the room. The steam rising from the soup curled through the air, mingling with the spicy scent of curry. Alex's mouth watered as he unwrapped the food, the heat from the containers radiating against his fingers.
"This is the best day. Let's dig in."
Each bite of the fried chicken was crispy and tender, the warmth of the rice filling him with comfort. He couldn't help but smile, feeling content as the food satisfied both his hunger and his nerves. After finishing, he returned to the sofa, his stomach full, his mind drifting back to the next phase of his plan.
"I should start preparing my trip to Russia," he said, pulling out his phone to book tickets.
Then he had a realization.
"Wait—I've already been to Russia."
The realization hit him like a cold gust of wind, and he stood up, closing his eyes as the icy breeze from Russia seemed to swirl around him in his mind. He visualized the scene—the scent of snow in the air, the distant hum of a city beneath the harsh cold.
With a sharp inhale, he opened the void, and the cold air rushed around him as he stepped into the snow-covered streets of Russia. The chill cut through his clothes, sharp and biting.
"Yes, this is definitely Russia."
Let's see if that lead pays off.
But it was cold. He immediately returned to his room.
"Let's wear something warmer first."
After putting on a jacket, I returned to Russia, wandering randomly in search of thugs.