Chapter 42 The Plan

Yukio whistled, clapping his hands, "Wow, scary stuff. Nice job."

Without warning, the azure-haired, frivolous man snapped his fingers, causing a boulder forged of overlapped titanium to manifest, falling directly above Noah's head.

"Think fast," Yukio warned playfully.

This was the test of his [Strength], in which Noah promptly pulled his fist back before thrusting it upward into a wind-splitting uppercut, crushing the titanium sphere and splitting it in the process.

"Nice, nice," Yukio complimented, leaning against the patio of the training courtyard.

Noah caught his breath, relinquishing the enhancements as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, looking off in the distance.

'It's not enough. If I want to match that Superhero System Sentinel in terms of physical prowess, I need more. I'll beat him at his own game," Noah resolved.

There was a surplus of free time given to him as he no longer had to attend school or deal with any outside problems, being left in the massive mansion to do as he pleased.

It wasn't as though there was a shortage of things to do, as the multiple recreational rooms were designed to be near-infinite sources of entertainment, housing arcade machines, board games, and consoles to use.

This oftentimes included him playing video games with Yukio, who was surprisingly adept at them despite looking like a pampered 'pretty boy'.

"Urggh…" Noah groaned, setting the controller down.

The two had just finished a bout in "Ultra Block Warrior 2"--a mechanic-driven fighting game that Yukio was particularly annoying with in his high-level of skill.

"What's wrong? Did I whoop you too hard? Sorry, I'll use a bottom-tier instead," Yukio teased.

Noah leaned back on the beanbag chair, "It's not that, it's just…I hate staying in the dark with what's going on in the world."

"I've been grabbing the daily paper, though," Yukio said.

"Yeah, but it's not exactly all that much–I mean, I wish I could make the internet function here, but establishing a connection between dimensions isn't exactly logical," Noah said, shrugging his shoulders.

Yukio laughed heartily, earning a dirty look from Noah who was still on edge with the current predicament he was in with the world.

"What's funny?" Noah asked.

"Nothing," Yukio smiled, "Just didn't take the mighty supervillain as somebody who was reliant on the internet."

"Well, that's about everybody," Noah sighed.

A sudden slap to the shoulder was given from Yukio to Noah, who smiled, standing over him as Noah glared up at him.

"What's the point in complaining? You've got all the interaction in me, your buddy ol' pal!" Yukio said, pointing to himself.

"Ugh," Noah groaned, turning away.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!" Yukio reacted.

Though it felt like time was simply being wasted inside the mansion, although entertaining most of the time, Noah understood the importance of the time of rest and building his strength further. It was all in the shared end goal between Noah and Yukio: "Project New World"--a collaborative effort to topple the world's infrastructure and establish themselves as rulers of the world, using their systems to mend it to their whim in a result of utmost self-pleasure.

Still, there was a long way to go, considering they had yet to even begin the first step.

However, after an entire month was spent stowing away, that time had finally come.

–

Lounging on the silken cough of the soothing living room, Yukio held a newspaper in his hands, keeping up with the daily news circulating in the outside world.

Sitting across from him, Noah was being served a silver platter of well-done steak and potatoes by one of the many maids he created for the subspace mansion, picking up a knife and fork for his hearty dinner.

"Anything of note happening today?" Noah asked, guiding a hefty slab of juicy steak into his mouth as he looked at Yukio.

The azure-haired man set the papers down, shaking his head, "It's been quite boring, though that may be fortunate."

"I'm talking about news of me," Noah corrected him.

Yukio looked up at him, "Ah. Well, the Sentinels are quite handy. They managed to spin what happened on that day to just being a gang shootout."

It was still frustrating to him, how it all crumbled down from a short-lived disturbance in his own system; the life he carefully forged for himself was swept away from him.

Noah tapped his foot repeatedly after finishing his meal, looking around boredly and impatiently, though Yukio seemed to pick up on this.

"I was thinking it's finally time to set into motion the beginning of our plans," Yukio told him.

"Go on," Noah said.

Yukio took a paper out from his pocket, sliding it across the table to him. As Noah picked it up, he found multiple addresses listed on it, some in different states altogether.

"Those are the headquarters of powerful gang factions," Yukio told him with a smile, "To us, though, those are where our 'perfect soldiers of chaos' are waiting. These are people 'off the radar' for the most part, and that their crimes and misdeeds will be attributed to their lifestyles, anyway."

It only took a moment for Noah to pick up on what his companion was insinuating before a smile slowly formed across his lips at the sign of some fun.

"If we have soldiers across the country, planted low and equipped with high-grade weaponry of their own, our plan will be a rousing success," Yukio informed him, "Since it won't be clear that this is the doing of a System, at least not right away, the Sentinels won't interfere–not until it's too late. By then, the country will be destabilized and ripe for the taking."

Taking the paper of addresses, Noah stood up, tossing his all-black hoodie, tossing the hood over his head to obscure the face that belonged to a man dead to the public.

"Destroy and rebuild from the ground up our own utopia," Noah said, "...That's the plan."

"I'll leave the field work to you," Yukio said with a smile, "You have the ability to create the necessary equipment for our precious soldiers."

–

As he left the front door of the subspace mansion, he exited through the wall of a tucked-away alley, glancing at the paper before heading to his first destination: "Los Angeles."

Through a developed usage of his ["Spatial Warp"], he managed to travel to the famous "City of Angels" within minutes, hovering high over the city as he his hoodie fluttered gently in the wind, looking down at the city, illuminated by countless lights in the night.

"Let's see…" He said with a smile.

["Absolute Sensory"]

Gaining a complete understanding of the highly-populated, cultural city on a three-dimensional level, he figured out where he needed to go and how to warp there in an instant.

While standing on the sky itself, he clapped his hands together, invoking ["Spatial Warp"] as he moved from the sky down to the front of an abandoned warehouse.

Through his ["Absolute Sensory"], he could see through the rusted walls of the warehouse, counting over a dozen figures loitering inside.

'Looks like you were right on the money, Yukio,' he thought.

Without any tact, he simply opened the squeaking door to the warehouse, being greeted by the sounds of guns being cocked back.

"Who the fuck are you, ese?!"

Looking up without any urgency, he found the gang members occupying the warehouse all standing up, pointing their pistols at him.

The one who greeted him abrasively had a completely bald head, inked in tattoos with multiple teardrops inked beneath his eye, holding the gun sideways.

He didn't respond, simply entering the premises while looking around, taking note of the equipment they had, or the lack thereof, as the highest firepower they had was an automatic pistol.

"This is our territory, homes!" Another member of the gang yelled out, wearing a red bandana over his mouth.

It seemed he interrupted a card game, mixed with other activities as the smell of head-swirling herbs filled the dingy warehouse.

Without answering their questions, he simply raised his hand, invoking ["Absolute Hypnosis"] and its violet light before any of the gangsters could pull the triggers to their weapons.

In that singular moment, everybody within the warehouse was left frozen as their minds were rewritten to the caster's whim.

"Alright then–welcome to the faction of the 'New World'," Noah said with a smile, snapping his fingers.

It was a complete override of their loyalties and ambitions, embedding in their minds utmost allegiance to himself and the goal of overtaking the world, but foremost, flipping the country over from within.

As the hypnosis was finished, the gangsters blinked, coming back to consciousness as they stood in respect to the adolescent now, lined up like soldiers.

"Sir!"

"Sir!"

Noah smiled, "That's good. Alright, let's get you some proper gear."

Holding his hand forward, he invoked ["Object Creation"], manifesting from nothingness a crate filled with military-grade weaponry and armor. There were grenades, recon equipment, assault rifles, and even RPGs, all of which he left to the men placed under his control.