Teleport the Devil

Noah and Asher walked through the decaying streets of the city's old district. The air smelled like wet concrete and stale spray paint. 

Asher kept glancing nervously at Noah, who moved with calm purpose, his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

They stopped in front of a dilapidated warehouse. Its corrugated metal walls were rusted and tagged with all kind of graffiti and abstract symbols.

"Usually, this is where I meet with other members," Asher said, shifting his weight. "But I doubt this is the main hideout. They don't tell newbies like me the important spots." 

"I see," Noah replied, studying the building's broken windows. "So they don't trust you yet." 

"I told you so," Asher muttered. 

"Well, this is good enough," Noah said, already striding toward the heavy steel door. 

"Hey, wait!" Asher sprinted after him, panic tightening his voice. "Let me go first! I'm supposed to recommend you, right? You're supposed to be following me." He blocked Noah's path, breathing fast. "Can't you let me take the lead for once?" 

Noah raised an eyebrow but stepped back. "Fair enough." 

Asher yanked the door open, revealing the space inside. The warehouse was a chaotic junkyard—weight benches and treadmills crowded beside vending machines spilling chips and soda cans. An old red telephone booth stood near a pile of car tires. Noah's eyes swept the room; all stolen, he guessed. 

Near a massive flat-screen TV at the center, three people sit on sofa. They turn around at the sound of the door opened. 

A huge man with bulging biceps, a petite girl in oversized jackets and a tall guy with sharp eyes glared at Asher and noah. Noah stared back at them with zero fear. 

"Asher?" the tall guy called out, frowning at the mohawk. 

"Oh, hey guys," Asher said, forcing a smile. Sweat beaded on his forehead. 

"Who is that?" The tall guy jabbed a finger at Noah. "You shouldn't bring strangers here." 

"Uh, let me explain," Asher stammered, shooting Noah a desperate look. 

"I'm Noah, his cousin," Noah cut in smoothly, like he'd rehearsed it. 

"Y-yes! That's right," Asher blurted, relief flashing across his face. "He's family. Anyway, he just awakened, and when I mentioned our group, he got interested." 

The buff guy snorted, flexing his arms. "You're recommending him?" He took a threatening step forward. "Who do you think you are, newbie? You barely got your own spot!" 

"Right, sorry," Asher mumbled, shrinking back. "I tried to tell him—" 

"I'm the one forcing him," Noah interrupted. "No need to yell at him." 

"Who told *you* to talk?" The buff guy loomed over Noah, veins bulging in his neck. But Noah didn't flinch, meeting his glare with a bored stare. 

"How dare you glare back!" The buff guy swung a meaty fist—but the tall guy caught his wrist mid-air. 

"Stop it, Owen," he warned. "Asher's an idiot, but only the boss decides who joins." 

Owen wrenched his arm free with a grunt. "Fine! But he better show us something useful." He jabbed a finger at Noah. "Make it good." 

"A demonstration?" Noah shrugged. "Fair enough." 

His gaze swept the cluttered room until it landed on a heavy metal pen near a stack of dusty ledgers. He plucked it up, rolling it between his fingers. 

Everyone watched, curiosity tightening their expressions. The girl tilted her head. "What's he doing?" 

"It's just a pen," the tall guy muttered. "I had no idea." 

Noah held up both hands, pen in his right palm. "Watch closely." 

In a blink of an eye, the pen vanished from his right hand and reappeared in his left. 

The girl gasped. "Teleportation!" 

The tall guy's eyes narrowed with interest. 

But Owen burst out laughing. "That's *it*? What a joke!" he said. What's the point of such a stupid party trick?" 

"A lot," Noah said softly. "For example..."

He flicked his wrist. The pen vanished again—and reappeared *through* Owen's palm, impaling it like a shish kebab. 

Owen howled, blood dripping onto the concrete. "FUCK!" 

The tall guy lunged, grabbing Noah's collar. "What the hell was that?!"

"What?" Noah smirked. "When someone mocks you, it's expected that you do something like this. Or are you saying you're just going to take it?"

The tall guy, Ridley, let go of Noah. He didn't really like Noah's attitude, but his logic kind of made sense. Owen had been openly mocking him from the beginning—retaliation was to be expected.

"Willow, heal him," Ridley said to the small girl.

Willow darted forward as Owen ripped the pen from his hand. "You're dead!" he spat at Noah. "I'll never let you in!" 

"P-please hold still," Willow whispered, pressing her hands over the wound. Warm light glowed from her palms. Skin knitted together, blood vanishing until only a faint scar remained. 

Owen flexed his healed hand, then charged at Noah.

The tall guy blocked him. "Don't!"

"Get out of my way, Ridley!" Owen roared.

"Calm down!"

"Calm down? Shut up! Do you think I can stay calm after what he did to me?!" Owen yelled.

He shoved Ridley to the side and was about to attack Noah when a voice came from the door.

"What happened here?" 

Owen's action was interrupted. Everyone snapping their heads toward the door.

There stood a young guy with sharp, black hair. His expression was calm, but an aura of heavy, quiet power radiated from him, making the air feel thick.

"Welcome back, boss," Ridley said, stepping forward slightly. "We have a little problem—"

"There's no problem!" Owen cut him off, jabbing a bloody finger toward Noah. His face was still flushed with rage. "We just need to kick this punk out right now!"

The guy called the boss ignored Owen's outburst. He walked closer to the group, his footsteps echoing slightly in that room.

 "Calm down, Owen," he said, his voice low and controlled. His gaze settled on Noah, assessing him. "Tell me first what happened. And who is he?"

Noah stared back at him, unflinching. A small, knowing smile played on his lips, but he didn't say a word, letting the silence stretch.

"E-excuse me, can I talk?" Asher raised his hand timidly, like a kid in class desperate for permission.

"You, shut up!" Owen growled, turning his glare on Asher.

"It's okay," the boss said. He kept his eyes on Noah but gestured slightly toward Asher. "Let me hear what he wants to say."

"He was... uh, my cousin," Asher stammered, his eyes darting nervously to Noah and then back to the boss. He swallowed hard. "He heard about me becoming part of this group and was wondering if he can join too."

"Is that true?" the boss asked, shifting his full attention directly at Noah. His gaze was intense, probing.

Noah smirked, meeting the stare without blinking. "That's true, Mr. boss man." His tone held a hint of casual defiance.

Noticing the mockery in the way Noah talked, Owen bristled. "Hey, you—" he started, taking a half-step forward.

"Owen, enough," the boss said, his voice cracking like a whip. It instantly froze Owen in his tracks. 

The boss, Liam Black, turned his focus back to Noah. "If you really mean it," he said, his voice deceptively calm, "I will consider giving you a chance. But for now, why don't you introduce yourself to me?"

"Boss—" Owen tried to complain, his voice strained with frustration, but Liam simply gestured sharply with his hand, a clear command to shut up.

"Alright," Noah said, his smile widening, though it didn't reach his eyes. He spread his hands slightly. "You can call me Noah. My power is teleportation."

"Teleportation, huh?" Liam murmured. "Interesting."

"That's right," Noah confirmed, his tone light. He gestured vaguely towards Owen, Ridley, and Willow. "I already demonstrated my power to them, quite vividly. So you can confirm that with them if you want." His gaze lingered pointedly on Owen's healed hand.

"But if you want," Noah continued, his voice dropping slightly, "I can give you a direct demonstration."

"Hey!" This time, Ridley cut into their conversation, stepping forward protectively.

The boss, Liam, glanced down at the small, dark stain of Owen's blood still marring the concrete floor near his feet. His expression remained unreadable. 

"It's okay," he said, looking back at Noah. "I'm not a big fan of getting hurt."

Noah raised his shoulders in a lazy shrug. "Too bad, then."

"Well, you do interest me, Noah," Liam admitted, his gaze sharp. "Teleportation is rare. Useful." He paused, letting the implication hang. "But," he continued, his voice hardening slightly, "it seems you've already made an... impression... on some of our members." He glanced meaningfully at Owen, who glowered. "So it's not an easy decision. I will discuss it with everyone first before giving you an answer, if you don't mind?" It was phrased as a question, but his tone made it clear it wasn't optional.

"Fair enough," Noah said, his smile never wavering.

Then the boss, Liam, turned his gaze fully onto Asher, who flinched under the sudden attention.

"Asher," Liam said.

"Y-yes?" Asher replied, his voice cracking with awkwardness. He straightened up like a soldier called to attention.

"Why don't you accompany your 'cousin' now?" Liam said, gesturing toward the door. "It must be lonely to go out alone after such an... eventful introduction."

"O-okay!" Asher answered quickly, practically tripping over himself to get moving. He shot Noah a desperate let's go look.

Noah, amused by it, followed along and left the building with Asher.

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