Strongest Gamer in the MCU

"Okay, all there." My father spoke as he poured in the contents of the lockbox into the bag. "Please leave now."

I could see his hands tremble. Not out of fear for his own life, but out of fear for his wife's and mine. Unforgivable.

The unarmed man took the bag and counted the bills. "Tsk, fucking poor ass chinks, barely worth the effort."

I could sense my father gritting clenching his fists at the slur, but he wisely kept his tongue.

"Alright let's bounce." The one holding the gun said, before his eyes turned malicious, "One last thing though..."

The air tensed, and in that single instant, everyone in the store realized what was going to happen next. My father's expression unfurled, shouting in desperation and more of a wild, instinctive roar than any properly enunciated word.

My mother's arms tightened around me, a self-sacrificial spirit radiating from her form. Her intent need not be spoken with words as she tensed her figure.

There was excitement in the gunman's expressions, a hint of insanity and depravity that oozed out of twisted anticipation.

I watched all these as though time moved at a snail's pace, mana already flowing out of my finger tips and into the invisible glyph that flowed into the space between my father and the criminal.

His fingers squeezed the trigger repeatedly, and several loud "BANG! BANG! BANG!" rang out.

Movies and TV shows really understated how loud guns could be, especially in a closed space like we were in now. It was so loud it startled me. Thankfully, however, my glyph of protection was already in effect.

The bullets flew out the chamber, heading towards my father. And it would have hit him as well, if they had not been deflected from an invisible barrier in front of him. There was no bright bursts of energy nor glowing blue sigils in the air. That was because of my concealment skill. At LVL: MAX, I could even extend my concealment to my spells that should have been flashy and high profile.

The bullets flew off course and struck the cigarette cabinet behind my father, scattering paper, shredded cigarettes and loose tobacco leaves.

"AHHHHHH!!!!" Both my father and my mother screamed in fear and pained desperation. One held out his hands in front of him as though mere appendages could stop bullets, while the other embraced me with the strength only an adrenaline fuelled mother could summon.

"AHHHHHHhhhhhhh… eh?" Their screams continued for a few more seconds until they realised none of the bullets hit him.

"I-I'm okay?" My father muttered breathlessly while feeling his body for any new holes punctured from the bullets. At this point, tears were streaming out of both my parents' eyes. There was an ineffable emotion that could only be experienced when one thought they were at death's door, and a separate, distinct emotion that likewise could only be experienced when one thought their loved one was about to die.

The other assailant laughed at his partner, "Your aim was shit vato, what the hell was that!?"

The newly identified Jerry, on the other hand, only looked at the gun in his hand in disbelief. At once, a range of emotions spread across his dumb face. Shock, disbelief, and even a healthy spoonful of realization that perhaps, just perhaps it was divine intervention that guided the bullets away from his victim.

"Dios mio… No, no fucking way. I… shit, fuck this! Let's get out of here!"

The gunman exclaimed to his partner who still seemed to not have taken the incident seriously.

"Yo, seriously? They saw our faces, pendejo! We've got to…"

Seeing the lack of an active threat in the form of a loaded firearm, my father's courage and frustration began bubbling up. As the unarmed unassailant was talking, he had pulled out a baseball bat that was tucked underneath the counter for exactly such a scenario.

"Get the fuck out! Get out!" He yelled, waving the baseball bat in his hands threateningly.

They say you shouldn't corner a wounded animal. The two criminals saw the bat, and found unadulterated hatred and anger in the Korean man's eyes. Within them was also the will to stake his life against them for the sake of his family.

Out of bullets, and already having the money in their hands, there was no other reason for the criminals to stay other than to finish what they had started. But I could see the gears shifting behind their eyes… weighing the pros and cons and calculating whether or not it was worth the risk to stay for even a minute longer.

"Tsk. Fuck it." One of them breathed out and stepped out the door with an urgency in his steps.

The other one, the one who had fired at my father sneered, "You say anything to the cops man, we will kill your whole chink family. You got that? We know where you live! Don't fuck with Los Pollo Loco, puta!"

With that final threat, he finally left as well, leaving behind the Lee family and their convenience store.

My father came out from behind the counter and ran to the door, making sure that the robbers had truly left before locking the door and returning to my mother and me.

"Are you okay, darling? Is Jae Sung okay?" He asked in Korean, automatically defaulting to his native language due to the stressful situation.

"We're fine, dear. Are you hurt at all?" My mother asked, slowly releasing the tight grip she had around me as she made sure the immediate threat to my safety was now gone.

He nodded silently, tears still welling up in both their eyes at the strange and traumatic circumstances that had found them this evening. The tension that had built up in their body could finally be released, and my father collapsed to the ground in both exhaustion and relief. The baseball bat clattered noisily next to him.

Neither knew how to feel about what had happened. While it was definitely a messed up situation to have been in, they couldn't help but glance at the bullet holes and strewn cigarettes on the floor with an air of reverence. It was a miracle they believed, no two ways to look at it.