LIGHTFOOT (ONC 2021)

1| what's your hero name?

Saint-Max stood in the perfume aisle looking for the cheapest perfume to buy for his best friend, Xia Li. She had a party tomorrow, and he wanted to get her something. He was tired of being the "broke friend" who didn't get her anything every time she met one of her life milestones.

Watching her new friends spoil her with expensive gifts irritated him. They didn't know her as well as he did. She and he were like brother and sister. They were born on the same day, at the same hospital, and their parents used to live in the same apartment building.

"Give us all your money!" a man's voice said. It came from the counter where the clerk was at. "Now!"

Is this a robbery? Saint-Max crouched and tiptoed to the end of the aisle. He peeked over the shelf and saw four men in red suits and red ski masks. The Red Ski Gang. A group of mundanes—powerless humans—who robbed stores that had little to no security. They were brothers. Each had the first letter of their first name stitched at the front of their mask: Adrian, Bas, Camron, and Daniel.

Saint-Max looked at the camera above the entrance, which surveilled the whole store. Someone had destroyed it. When had it happened? Was it before he arrived?

"Check the rest of the store to see if anyone else is in here," Adrian told his brothers while staring at the clerk, Old Man Antonio. Adrian was the oldest and shortest of the four. Standing at five-foot-one, he didn't do a good job of disproving the theory that short people had anger issues.

Sourness filled Saint-Max's chest. Its acidic touch burned his heart. Watching Old Man Antonio beg Adrian for mercy with tears running down his face didn't sit right with him. Old Man Antonio was the sweetest person in the neighborhood. He was also one of the few religious people who respected those who didn't share the same beliefs as him. He always stood up for others. Whether it was fighting for LGBTQ+ rights, supporting Black Lives Matter, or ending violence against minorities.

"Open the register," Adrian said, then grabbed a small duffel bag from the floor, placed it on the counter, and unzipped it. "Put everything in here." Old Man Antonio tried to talk, but Adrian smacked him. "Don't talk unless I tell you to."

Saint-Max's hands shook from anger but he didn't want to do something stupid. He had bigger ambitions in life and, if he acted without thinking, then his dreams wouldn't come true. He crouched and rushed to the store's bathroom before Bas, Camron, and Daniel spotted him. Once inside, he locked the door quietly.

He sat on the toilet and took a deep breath. His lips and fists shook with a wave of rage he'd never felt before. He hated seeing good people get treated like shit. The world was short on good people, so it had to cherish the few. Sadly, bad people ruled this sick world. And bad people gave power to other bad people. It was an endless cycle.

Gangs like the Red Ski Gang got away with robbing the poor because no one cared about the poor. Not the police. Not the rich. And most definitely not the high-ranked superheroes who only cared about their image and ranking.

After he calmed down, Saint-Max reached in his pants pocket and took out his phone. He dialed his agent, Tim Angels.

"It's lunchtime, Saint. I told you not to bother me during lunchtime," Tim said. He was five years older than Saint-Max, though he acted like he was his father. He had a hero agency called Tim and Pumbas. Unfortunately, he was the only staff member, and Saint-Max was his only client. The agency world was tough. Superheroes didn't work with unproven agents, and agents couldn't prove themselves without getting the chance to.

Saint-Max hired Tim after Xia Li had introduced them to each other. Tim used to work under Xia Li's management company before he quit and started his own agency. He had connections and knowledge most agents didn't. Not even the famous ones.