Bank transfer received. I stayed looking at my phone screen for several seconds without opening the application, as if the number was going to change just from the force of my stare.

Vanessa also lowered her gaze toward my phone, but she did not say anything.

The New Kroy agents were finishing handcuffing the two superhumans who had caused problems in the commercial area. The big guy with increased strength was sitting on the ground with an expression of humiliated fury, while the air gust guy seemed more busy trying to pretend that his leg did not hurt.

I did not know how much money they had sent me, but I knew one thing. It had been for a mission that I solved alone.

Not with Vanessa attacking invisibly from behind, not with Sarah yelling at me every three seconds to fall back. Just me.

With my fire powers and a decent amount of fear of accidentally burning a store. I opened the bank application.

[Transfer received: 80 silver coins] I stayed completely still. Eighty. Eighty silver coins for a mission that did not even last a full hour.

I had to close the application and open it again because maybe my hunger, tiredness, or the emotional hit of becoming a functional hero had made me read it wrong. But no. It was still 80 silver coins.

“Is this legal, right?” I murmured. Vanessa looked at me sideways. “What?”

“They paid me 80 silver coins.”

“Then yes, it was legal.”

“That does not answer anything.”

“Oliver, you work for a superhero agency. If it were not legal, Sarah would already be yelling at you through the watch.”

That was a good way to measure the legality of things in my new work life. If Sarah was not yelling, everything was allowed. Or at least she had not noticed yet.

An agent approached me with a tablet in his hand. He was a thin man, with dark circles under his eyes and the expression of someone who had spent too many hours filling out reports of people with powers doing stupid things.

“Oliver Clarke, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good job containing the suspects until we arrived” he said looking at the screen.

“Reduced material damage, civilians out of danger, and power use within acceptable limits.”

Use of power within acceptable limits. That sounded way too professional to describe that I almost turned a manhole into a hot trap and locked a huge man inside a ring of fire. But I accept compliments in any format.

“Thanks” I said trying to sound humble.

The agent raised his gaze and looked at me for the first time as if he was really seeing me. “For a rookie it was not bad.” That was almost a compliment. Not a nice one, but it came from someone who did not seem to get excited even if someone gave him paid vacations, so I took it as a victory.

On the other side of the street some people were still recording with their phones. A small child was being hugged by his mother while pointing at me.

I did not understand exactly what he was saying, but from the way he moved his hands it seemed like he was imitating fire.

That made me feel weird. Not bad. Weird. The day before yesterday I was still a guy who entertained children’s parties dressed as a bear, sweating inside a suit that smelled like defeat and work desperation.

Today a child was imitating my powers as if I was someone worth remembering. I did not know how to handle that.

Then Vanessa came closer and spoke in a low voice. “Do not get too excited.”

“Impossible. They just paid me 80 coins and a child is imitating me.”

“That is exactly why.”

I looked at her confused. Vanessa had her arms crossed and an expression that was hard to read. She was not angry. That was already an improvement. She also did not seem worried. It was more like she was trying to accept something that she did not completely like.

“You did well” she said finally. I stayed looking at her. “Can you repeat that?”

“No.”

“Just one more time.”

“Do not abuse.”

“Vanessa, I need to save this moment in my memory.”

She let out a sigh, but her cheeks turned slightly red.

“You did well, Oliver.” That was more important than the 80 coins. Well. Not more important than the 80 coins. But it was close.

After signing a quick report on the agent’s tablet and receiving a warning about not leaving the mission site without official confirmation, I was able to leave.

Sarah sent me a short message through the watch. [Good job. You did not burn civilians, you did not burn stores, and you did not burn yourself. That is already progress.] I smiled without being able to help it.

Then another message arrived. [Do not smile like an idiot. I still have to review the report.] That made me stop smiling.

Vanessa walked with me a few blocks.

We did not talk too much. She seemed calm, but every so often she looked at me sideways as if she was still checking that I was not missing an arm or that I was not pretending to be fine.

“I told you I did not need help” I said.

“And I did not help you.”

“I know.”

“It was hard for me.”

“I know that too.”

Vanessa stopped before reaching the corner where we could each take our own way toward the building.

She looked at me with those gray eyes and then looked away to the side. “If they had hit you hard, I was going to break my promise.”

“That does not surprise me.”

“Good.”

“But it was not necessary.”

She pressed her lips together. “This time.”

That did not sound like a threat.

It sounded like a caring warning from a girl who could turn invisible and who was probably capable of watching me from a rooftop if she felt like it.

When we arrived at the building, Vanessa went first toward her floor. I entered my apartment with a mix of tiredness, hunger, and happiness that I did not know how to order.

My room was still the same. Messy bed. Old PC. Small fridge. Clothes thrown around. Bathroom with tub. But something felt different.

Maybe it was my New Kroy jacket.

Maybe it was the 80 silver coins.

Maybe it was that for the first time in a long time I came home after working and did not feel like the day had completely defeated me.

I threw myself on the bed without taking off my shoes. That was disrespectful to my own bed, but in my defense, my bed was also not good enough to demand special treatment.

I took out my phone to check the transfer again. Not because I distrusted it. Well, yes I distrusted it. Easy money always seemed suspicious to me when it came to my account.

But before opening the bank app, I saw that I had many notifications. Too many. The screen was full. My personal account had alerts one after another.

New followers. Comments. Direct messages. Mentions. Tagged videos.

I opened the application carefully. My number of followers had gone up from a miserable amount that was embarrassing to several thousand. Thousands.

I sat up in bed so fast that I almost dropped the phone on my face. “What the fuck?”

I refreshed again.

The number went up again. It was not a mistake. Thousands of people were following me. Some comments said “flame boy.”

Others asked if I was the one from the jewelry store. Others had uploaded videos from today’s mission, where you could see the ring of fire, the girl running toward her mother, and me with a face of trying to look professional while inside I was probably thinking about not setting half the street on fire.

There were good comments. [That rookie actually thought before attacking.] [The fire on the ground was a good idea.] [I do not know who he is, but New Kroy should use him more.]

There were also bad comments. [He got lucky.] [If the other guy was stronger, they would split him in half.] [Another viral rookie for one week.]

I stayed looking at the screen, scrolling down and down without being able to stop. More notifications kept arriving. My phone vibrated so much that it seemed sick.

I did not know whether to be happy, nervous, or scared. Being seen by so many people was good for making money. But it also meant that I was no longer invisible. And in my current life that could be a problem.

Corvus Night was already interested in me. The agency was watching me. Vanessa watched me even when she should not. And now thousands of strangers were watching me too.

I let myself fall back on the bed looking at the ceiling. “Great, Oliver. You wanted money and now you have public attention. Congratulations on unlocking new problems.”

The phone vibrated again. I thought it was another follower, but it was a message from Sarah.

I opened it. [Oliver, I saw the movement on your social media. Do not reply to comments, do not promise anything, do not post fire from your room and for the love of all things administrative do not argue with strangers.]

That last part was a completely unfair accusation.

I could argue with strangers in a very professional way. Before I could reply, another message arrived.

[Rest. Come early to the agency tomorrow. We have a surprise for you.] I stayed looking at that last phrase. A surprise from Sarah.

At late hours of the night. That did not sound reassuring. Nothing that came out of Sarah Murphy after ten at night could be normal.

I looked at my phone vibrating non-stop, then looked at my New Kroy jacket thrown on the chair and finally the bank account with 80 more coins than before.

I sighed. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

And for some reason, I was sure that surprise was not going to let me rest.