Nabiel let out a sigh, a breath of air that sounded more like the weary complaint of an exhausted old man than a teenager in the middle of a hostage crisis. He was just about to stand up and end this cheap scene in his own way when a warm hand caught his wrist.
"Wait," Momo whispered. The blue glow in her palm faded, replaced by a sharp flash of intelligence in her onyx eyes. "You are right, Nabiel. Using my Quirk openly would ruin my future. However, the law forbids the unauthorized use of a Quirk, not civilians defending themselves with nearby objects."
Nabiel tilted his head, slightly intrigued. "And then?"
"If I create a weapon like a sword or a shield, that is clearly a Quirk," Momo continued in a voice as soft as a whisper. Her eyes swept the shelves around them. "But what if I create items that are actually sold in this supermarket? The same brand, the same weight, the same shape. No one can prove I used a Quirk. They will just think I am throwing merchandise."
The corner of Nabiel's lips almost twitched into a faint smile. A clever adaptation of the scenario, the Observer thought. This girl had just found a legal loophole in the script of this world.
"A good plan," Nabiel responded flatly. "But you need a distraction. That asphalt man over there is cocking his weapon and his eyes are alert. You need time to aim."
"That is why you will be the bait," Momo said without hesitation, staring straight into Nabiel's dark black eyes.
"Me?" Nabiel pointed to himself from behind his dangling shirt sleeves. "You are asking the laziest person in this room to be bullet bait?"
"You said it yourself that we cannot die here," Momo replied quickly, her hand glowing again in the shadows of the shelf. "Three seconds, Nabiel. Give me three seconds."
Nabiel stared at the ceiling for a moment, cursing the fate that forced him into the center of the main plot. "Fine. Three seconds. Do not be late, or I will really go home and leave you."
Without waiting for further instructions, Nabiel stood up from behind the tomato soup shelf. His movements were so relaxed, his shoulders slumped, and his steps dragged as if the gravity around him were twice as heavy. The sleeves of his oversized white shirt swayed in rhythm with his lazy pace.
His presence in the main aisle immediately sucked in everyone's attention. Amidst dozens of people lying trembling on the floor, the young man with messy black hair walked as if he were in a playground.
"Hey! You! Get down, you little brat!" the robber roared, pointing the muzzle of his makeshift pistol directly at Nabiel's forehead. The small child in his arms cried even more hysterically.
Nabiel stopped walking. He was only five meters away from the robber. He stared at the large man with asphalt skin with a pair of empty black eyes, without fear, without panic, almost without any emotion at all. That gaze was so hollow that it made the robber unconsciously swallow hard.
"Excuse me," Nabiel's voice broke the tense silence, his tone flat and monotonous. "Could you please lower your voice? And by the way, where is the chocolate milk aisle? I have been wandering around for a while now."
The robber's eyes widened. His brain, which was filled with adrenaline, failed to process the absurdity in front of him. "Are you crazy?! I have a gun! I can blow your head off!"
One.
"A low caliber makeshift pistol," Nabiel interrupted, his hands hidden behind his long sleeves as he tucked them into his pockets. "Even if you fire, the probability of your weapon jamming due to damp gunpowder is about forty percent."
Two.
"Shut your mouth!" The robber growled in anger, feeling belittled by a kid. He released his grip on the child for a moment to hold the pistol with both hands, preparing to pull the trigger.
Three.
From the robber's blind spot on the left, a large can of tomato soup flew through the air with terrifying speed and precision.
BAM!
The iron can hit the robber's wrist with a loud cracking sound. The man screamed in pain, and his makeshift pistol slipped and tumbled far across the floor.
Before the robber could recover, a shadow leaped from behind the shelves. Yaoyorozu Momo dashed forward. In her hand was a thick nylon rope, exactly like the ones sold in the hardware aisle. With trained and graceful martial arts movements, Momo swept the large man's legs, making him lose his balance.
As the asphalt-skinned man hit the floor, Momo quickly wrapped the nylon rope around his arms and neck, locking him in a chokehold that left no room for resistance.
The child, released from the hostage situation, ran away crying. Nabiel, who was still standing in place with a bored expression, simply raised one hand. His extremely long sleeve dangled down, gently catching and hiding the child behind his body, shielding him from the villain's sight.
"Done," Nabiel murmured softly, giving a small yawn.
Silence enveloped the supermarket for a few seconds. Only the groans of pain from the robber, who was now tightly bound on the floor under Momo's knee, could be heard.
Then, a woman who had been lying face down slowly stood up. She began to clap. The sound of clapping spread quickly. One by one, the supermarket visitors rose. Loud applause, cheers of relief, and happy tears filled the room.
"Incredible!"
"You are heroes!"
"That girl's martial arts were amazing! And that boy was so brave!"
People began to crowd around them. The mother of the hostage child ran to hug her kid near Nabiel's feet, then bowed repeatedly to the young man while crying in gratitude.
Momo stood up, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her face flushed red from the constant praise, but she smiled proudly. "We did not use a Quirk, really! We just happened to find this soup can and rope on the nearest shelf!" she exclaimed, ensuring her alibi was heard by everyone, especially the CCTV cameras in the corner of the room.
Nabiel watched the crowd with half-closed eyes. The looks of admiration, the tears of emotion, the applause, this was the standard resolution of a Class C incident in a world of heroes. So predictable. So cliché.
"Nabiel, we did it!" Momo turned to him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "You saved the child, and we stopped the robber without breaking the law!"
The External Observer only let out a long sigh, burying both hands deeper into his pockets. He hated crowds, and he especially hated being the center of attention for these background characters. Outside, the sound of police sirens finally began to wail, indicating that the official authorities always arrived late after the main heroes had already solved the problem.
"Yes, yes. How wonderful," Nabiel replied in a completely monotonous tone, sounding almost sarcastic. He looked at Momo, then murmured softly under his breath, a complaint that only he could hear.
"This is so boring."