Advent Of The True Villain

Lin Feng's breath was coming raggedly as he plunged through the streets with long strides of desperation. The cold night air sliced at his skin, but it could not penetrate his mind because he was late. The weight of his already flimsy job dangled above him like the sword of Damocles, just ready to be unleashed. And with that out of the picture, surviving in that decrepit city was going to be an even bigger problem.

His heart raced, his stamina plummeting faster than he had anticipated. A taunting grin twisted on his lips. Pathetic. Even after inheriting this body I still remain a weakling. His limbs felt lethargic, his stamina poor, striking as a reminder that he really had no advantage, no special power to rely on yet. But that did not matter; he would not stop. He sped through alleyways, dodging the occasional drunkard and leaping over potholes, his jet-black hair streaming behind him. The neon lights of the street signs blurred by, leaving odd miters on the glistening pavement, but Lin Feng had no time to appreciate them. 

Finally, the dull light from his workplace came into view. It was a small convenience store sandwiched between larger buildings; its sliding glass doors glanced back at the hard-pressed streets outside. His legs were quivering with fatigue, but he made them stop just before reaching the entrance, inhaling like a drowning man as he ran a lot and that his body was much weaker than what he had anticipated. Also his hair was damp, he ran his hand through it, and with a great expression of distaste, he straightened his shirt and wiped away a film of sweat. Tiredness gnawed away at him, but he buried it deep inside. Breathing out, he pushed open the door into the aisles, bracing himself for the welcome he surely would receive.

The shrill ringing of the bell echoed Lin Feng's entrance into the store, the sudden brightness from above causing momentary discomfort. The store was nothing special. Conspicuous were the neat rows of ready-stocked shelves filled with snacks, instant noodles, and cheap household goods. At the back of the store stood the refrigerator humming softly; it was fully stocked with bottled drinks that gleamed under fluorescent lights. There was also a counter at the front, where the register was, quite rightly placed beside a heap of grand promotions people rarely patronized. It was an easy, uneventful job. For the good of Lin Feng, he was conscious of its necessity-only just enough to keep himself afloat, if even.

"You took your sweet time to get here, huh?" An irritated clear voice rang. 

Lin Feng turned around to meet Li Mei, marching in with fists clenched angrily to her chest. Her ponytail, usually neatly styled, was a little bit unkempt, and frustration was all over her face. "You should have been here twenty minutes ago!" she fumed. "Do you even care how much work I had to deal with because of you?! Stocking shelves, customers, and—ugh, don't get me started on inventory!"

Before Lin Feng could reply, the slow chuckle from behind the counter made him stop. Leaning lazily against the counter, Wang Qiang had his arms folded, smiling amusedly at the unfolding scene. "Tsk, tsk. You've done it this time, Lin Feng," he said with an air of mock disappointment, shaking his head. "It's actually pretty cruel that you would leave poor Li Mei to do it all while you just chilled."

Li Mei threw a hasty, flustered glance at Wang Qiang, having her face soften very quickly. "That is true!" she declared, now in a whiny tone. "Wang Qiang had to do my work for me, and he shouldn't have had to! He was already working so hard—"

"Oh, but that's nothing compared to what Lin Feng will have to do," Wang Qiang interrupted him, a smug grin on his face. "Since you made Li Mei suffer, then Lin Feng should be punished by having to take the closing shift for the night at the till and declare how much Work he did." He waved his hand dismissively. "Just think of it as a payment for Lin Feng's leave of absence, all right?"

Lin Feng remained silent, his dark eyes cold while he looked between the two. These idiots…

He changed the direction of his gaze toward a place out of view, allowing his face to remain expressionless, even though some amusement flickered through. Wang Qiang believed himself to be in command, from throwing orders around like a self-important manager. However, Li Mei was just by his side with an exaggerated frown, arms crossed as though she endured some great hardship. Lin Feng almost chuckled.

"Got it," he muttered, moving past them without another glance.

The store was no large one, a mere convenience store squeezed between taller buildings, and still did good business in questionably long shifts. The musty smell of stale coffee and cheap instant noodles filled the air, wherein shelves were crammed with snacks, drinks, and everyday essentials. In the back stood a register shining faintly and beyond it was a backroom through a narrow hallway-now that was his play area.

Lin Feng was into his element: stocking shelves, wiping down counters, greeting customers with the customary politeness and always planning with feverish tension. The inventory for the store was not that complicated-Wang Qiang and Li Mei were in charge of most of it, meaning they were responsible for ensuring the numbers matched the stock-not that they actually went to the lengths of this kind of stuff. However, in the instances when the goods started going missing, fingers would be aimed straight at them.

Now that was a setup for him to make some small money and to have a small revenge against them.

He waited on the other side, carefully observing, and then, as the rush of customers diminished rapidly, he used that chance to probably make it into the storeroom. It was dim and crammed with boxes and things to sell, just a mine waiting for one to dig into. Lin Feng put his eyes on the labels—cigarettes, bottled drinks, a few high-priced imported things, whose worth in cash could outweigh their good weight. He was looking for something that would fit into neither category-a small theft that would go unnoticed, but in the long run, it would be likely to catch up on them and make it impossible for them to bury it. 

His fingers grazed the boxes labeled Premium Imports, feeling for the cartons of cigarettes within, the properly stacked, expensive cartons that were in demand and ever so easy to smuggle. 

Lin Feng some packs back into his pocket and a few to take away snacks for good measure. Just enough to put the wheels in motion, just enough to throw suspicion onto the figures. Let him be dumb later and let Wang Qiang and Li Mei scramble for answers when their reports failed to add up. 

He came out looking as tired and worked to death as one possibly could. If anyone saw him, all they'd see was the struggling and unlucky Lin Feng-another powerless employee trying his best to make the grade.

One step at a time, he thought, hiding a smirk. Let the game begin. 

Lin Feng moved deftly, his fingers steady as he slipped the stolen goods into his bag. The store's lack of cameras was as much an indication of cheap management as it was Lin Feng's greatest advantage. As long as he was somewhat inconspicuous, no one would be able to provide any proof. A few items here and there, accumulated over a period of weeks, would be enough to make it seem like nothing more than mismanagement or, perhaps most importantly, a problem with the very people in charge of inventory.

With one last look back, Lin Feng adjusted the bag strap and stepped back into the store. Wang Qiang and Li Mei were too busy chatting near the counter. She was giggling at some most likely lame remark the smug bastard made. Lin Feng barely cast them a glance; he was still stuck at work, but now each passing minute just got him closer to his real ends: to make each and everyone of them carry the blame for this.

Lin Feng turned to the back of the store where the more expensive health supplements were shelved. Among them, a large container of protein powder was tucked snugly behind the cheaper substitutions, probably to avoid bringing the attention of the usual broke customers. He moved toward it with the same sluggish, indifferent air of a tired worker restocking shelves. 

Pretending to reorganize the display, his fingers encircled the container, taking in its real and familiar weight. It was worth much more than the usual snacks and drinks he pocketed: an investment of self-reliance. If he wanted to be strong, even in the absence of magic, he could not continue living off cheap buns and whatever scraps he could afford to buy. While his back was turned to the counter, he slipped the protein powder into a corner as he gradually fitted it, adjusting it so as to not make any unnatural movements, into a more convenient place where he could get it from, as it was too large for his small bag.