Strongest Gamer in the MCU

That night.

I was at my parents convenience store in Parkslope. I actually spent most of my time here since my parents would not let me be home alone.

While my illusion sat on the ground drawing with crayon, I was levitating in the middle of the store, under the effects of concealment. I was used to multitasking by now, grinding several skills simultaneously. In one hand was a book about Java, a 'new' programming language that was very quickly gaining popularity, and in the other was a ball of glowing blue energy.

It was a spell I was trying to create through mana manipulation. Shaping mana into a sphere, rotating it in different directions while condensing its power within the ball. In other words, it was a Rasengan. The creation of which had even generated a new skill.

[Spiralling Sphere 'Rasengan'] LVL 1

A spinning ball of heavily condensed mana that can cause destructive damage.

MP Cost: 300

My new trait, [Mana-Talent Physique] gave me increased talent in manipulating mana. This allowed me to do things like this, recreating techniques and skills I could recall from pop culture. I had several other ideas in my head which I planned to experiment with, though some of them were a little too destructive to try here.

"Should we close for the day?" My father asked, while keeping the money in the cash register into a metallic lock box.

I glanced at the nearby clock as I heard this. It was half past 9, and we usually closed before that. Parkslope was a considerably safe neighbourhood, all things considered, but it was never a wise idea to roam New York City late at night.

My mother, who was mopping the ground after a particularly rude customer that trekked mud in, replied cheerily, "Sure, darling." Where that customer found mud in a concrete jungle like New York, I wouldn't know even if I tried using magic.

Most of my nights were spent like this, with my parents who were both busy running their store and taking care of their child at the same time. It was truly difficult to be parents. As an adult looking through the eyes of a child, I gained a newfound respect for all parents who did something as tedious and challenging as raising children.

Then suddenly the door swung open, and two men wearing hoodies walked in. They had their hands in their pockets, and one of them had a bag slung over his shoulder.

I, who was levitating in the air, turned to look at them. Something felt off.

"Sorry, we are closing." My father spoke apologetically, his hand reaching over to the lock box instinctively. Half past 9 in New York City at night? I wouldn't blame the man for any paranoia.

The two men looked at each other before laughing, "No worries man, we're going to be real quick, as long as you do what we tell you to."

The other one pulled out a gun and pointed it at my father, a sneer in his eyes.

Ah, so it was a robbery. How… pedestrian, I coldly gazed at the common criminals who barged into our lives so suddenly. 

"Kyakk!" My mother screamed and ran to my illusion. Seeing that she was about to protectively hug my intangible illusion, I flew forward to take my illusions place while releasing my concealment. The next moment, my mother already put herself between me and the assailants.

My father swallowed his fear and put up his hands, "Okay, okay, please just don't hurt us. What do you want?"

"Cash. Now. All of it."

The second man threw a backpack, demanding my father to throw the money in there.

He quietly obeyed while glancing nervously between the firearm and his family. I frowned. My father was never one who showed his fears or worries. He, like my mother, always had a smile on his face even when times were tough and money was tight. To see him shakily looking at us with unease and palpable dread… that didn't sit right with me at all. These fuckers…

Watching these scum threaten my parents while my father was forced to handover their hard-earned money at gunpoint gave me quite a dilemma and internal conflict happening in my head. I was torn between cutting off the arm that pointed a gun at my father, or cutting off the leg that stepped foot in my family's store.

Hey, my parents are first generation immigrants who work their asses off everyday to provide me with a good life. That was their entire purpose in life. Everything they did was for my sake.

You dare to come in here and disrespect their hard work by robbing them at gunpoint? Nah, I ain't letting that go unpunished. Never.

However, I didn't want to cause a commotion in my family's store. It would be difficult to explain to the cops why there were two criminals bleeding out on the floor from amputations. And even harder to explain to my parents what just happened even if I could do it so discretely that they would never even realize I was the culprit.

Instead, I channeled mana into my fingers and started drawing a glyph on the floor. My mother was focused on the armed man, so she did not notice this.

Myestas' Ward of Missile Defence. An intermediate-level abjuration spell that erected an invisible shield that protected against projectiles. It was a common spell sorcerers used to protect themselves against arrows in Ye Olde Times. A healthy dose of extra MP retrofitted it towards modern firearms.

The reason I cast this spell was borne out of worry. These men were committing armed robbery but didn't bother hiding their identities. This meant they weren't worried about getting caught. That might be because of one of three reasons: 1) they are really stupid; 2) they are really high; or 3) they didn't intend to leave any witnesses.

In the case of 1 and 2, fine whatever, I already memorized their faces. They would receive righteous punishment from my hands regardless.

However, if it was number 3, however, then the Abjuration spell I was currently casting secretly would discreetly prevent any unfortunate mishaps. Energy pulsed as I completed the glyph of protection, though no one else noticed.