Chapter 30 : Rare Template
Like that, two more days passed with the group parked near Popclaw’s apartment building running surveillance from inside the van.
And during those two days, everyone inside that vehicle learned things they absolutely did not want to know about members of The Seven.
Mark stared at the monitor with visible disappointment in humanity.
"Are we actually here gathering intel," he asked tiredly, "or secretly producing the world’s most cursed Seven documentary?"
Frenchie laughed while Hughie immediately avoided looking at the screen again.
Because Popclaw and A-Train apparently spent very little time behaving like functioning adults.
And since The Seven were celebrities on top of being superheroes, the internet around them was even worse.
Way worse.
At one point Mark made the mistake of checking online discussions out of curiosity and immediately regretted it.
There were entire sites dedicated to fan videos, edited clips, weird fantasies, and titles disturbing enough to make him physically uncomfortable.
"Why does something called ’Sexy Homelander Takes Control’ exist?" Mark asked in genuine disbelief. "Who wakes up and decides to make this?"
Frenchie glanced toward him with a smirk.
"And yet you watched it."
Mark looked offended instantly.
"That is not the point."
Hughie slowly turned toward him. "You watched the whole thing?"
"I was investigating," Mark defended himself immediately.
"You literally said the title was disgusting."
"And I stand by that statement."
Mother’s Milk rubbed at his forehead like the conversation itself was draining years off his lifespan.
At this point the surveillance operation had slowly degraded into five exhausted people trapped together watching celebrities ruin their own dignity in real time.
Meanwhile, Mark checked his popularity system again.
[1.2 million.]
The number was still climbing, but nowhere near as explosively as before.
Which honestly made sense.
Most normal people eventually moved on with their lives. They had jobs, bills, relationships, and problems that mattered more than superheroes punching each other through buildings on the news.
Not everyone spent all day obsessing over capes and laser eyes.
"Well," Mark said eventually while getting up from his seat, "I’m gonna go get some fresh air before my lungs officially give up."
After two straight days trapped inside the surveillance van breathing cigarette smoke and watching Popclaw ruin people emotionally through a monitor, he genuinely needed to leave for a while.
Mark nudged Butcher’s leg lightly and extended his hand toward him expectantly.
Butcher looked down at it.
"What, you want a bloody babysitter now?"
Mark answered by raising his middle finger without hesitation.
"I want money," he said. "A hundred bucks."
Butcher snorted softly and turned his head toward Frenchie.
"Oi, Frenchie. Spot the lad some cash."
Frenchie looked up from the equipment immediately.
"Why the fuck would I do that?"
"Because I said so."
"That is not how money works, Billy."
Butcher shrugged carelessly.
"I ain’t got any on me."
Frenchie stared at him with complete disbelief.
"You owe me forty thousand dollars already and now you are volunteering my money too?"
Butcher lit another cigarette calmly.
"Exactly."
Frenchie muttered something in French that definitely wasn’t polite before pulling cash from his pocket and handing it toward Mark anyway.
"At this point," he said bitterly, "I will die before this man pays me back."
Butcher took the cigarette from his mouth long enough to answer.
"Probably, yeah."
Mark took the money with zero shame while Hughie suddenly spoke from the side.
"Uh... actually," he said awkwardly, "I kinda want to get out for a bit too."
He looked exhausted from spending two straight days inside the van.
The atmosphere alone felt unhealthy.
Hughie glanced toward Mark carefully.
"Can I come with you?"
Mark shrugged lightly while stuffing the money into his pocket.
"Sure," he said. "As long as you don’t start emotional conversations halfway through lunch."
After leaving the van, the two of them ended up at a small restaurant a few blocks away.
Mark ordered a pizza and a coke before dropping into the seat across from Hughie while Hughie ordered something smaller and nervously pulled his phone out afterward.
For a few minutes neither of them spoke much.
Then Hughie finally looked up.
"Um... I’ve been meaning to ask something," he said carefully. "Are all supes assholes?"
The question sounded more disappointed than angry.
Before Robin died, Hughie had genuinely admired superheroes. Most normal people did. The Seven were everywhere—movies, interviews, commercials, charity events. They were sold to the public like celebrities mixed with saviors.
But after actually meeting them?
The image cracked apart fast.
A-Train killed Robin and barely cared.
Translucent treated people like trash.
Mark leaned back slightly in his chair.
"Most of them are," he said honestly. "I mean, think about it."
Hughie stayed quiet while listening.
"You suddenly become stronger than normal people," Mark continued. "Then add fame, money, fans, companies worshipping you, and everyone around you constantly telling you how special you are."
He shrugged lightly.
"That kind of popularity usually creates assholes."
Hughie couldn’t really argue with that.
A few moments later the food finally arrived.
The waitress placed the pizza and drinks down before walking away while Hughie looked like he still had more questions ready.
Mark immediately raised his hand to stop him.
"No serious conversations while eating," he said. "Humanity invented food specifically to avoid emotional damage."
Hughie blinked once before quietly accepting that rule.
While eating, Mark focused internally on the system instead.
His popularity had already crossed one million.
Which meant he could finally afford another Rare Gacha pull.
And unlike the common garbage he started with, Rare templates actually had the potential to change everything.
[Do you wish to spend 500,000 popularity points to pull a Rare Gacha?]
’Yes.’
The moment he confirmed it, glowing cards appeared in his vision again.
They rotated slowly in darkness, shining with green light while different figures flashed across their surfaces too quickly to identify properly.
Then suddenly—
one card shot forward like a falling star.
The others disappeared instantly.
The card glowed brighter before slowly turning over.
A man with white hair and striking blue eyes appeared on the surface of the card, impossibly calm with the kind of presence that demanded attention immediately.
Below the image, words slowly appeared.
"Throughout Heaven and Earth... I alone am the Honored One."
***
A/N: Advanced Chapters are available on Patreon.
👉 /Mark841
Currently, 18 advanced Chapters are available