I'm a Villain, So I'll Take Over The World!

Car horns blared and the bustling city was filled with murmurs of citizens, finding himself overwhelmed by it all in his moments of vulnerability, now drenched in blood from his vicious acts.

'...Shit…' He thought.

This thought process came from the unmistakable sound of sirens wheering in the distance, approaching swiftly as cabs and passing vehicles in the street moved to the side, allowing for the police cars to arrive in front of the hotel.

He was surrounded with the streets cut off by a half dozen black-and-white police vehicles with the blaring sirens still going off.

"Suspect found," one of the policemen said into his radio before pointing his handgun towards Noah, using his car door as cover, "Hands in the air!"

There were at least a dozen, all standing ready with their guns pointed at him and hundreds of onlookers, blocked off at each end of the downtown street.

"Hands above your head! If you don't comply, we will use lethal force!"

He didn't listen to the orders barked at him, shaking his head in frustration of his own thoughts as he gritted his teeth.

"...Why do you keep getting in my way…?" He mumbled to himself before yelling out, "...Just stay out of my way and you won't get hurt! It's that simple–but none of you get it!"

As he took a step forward with his bloodied fists clenched following his aggravated, heartfelt words, the readied policemen took it as a sign of his violent intentions, firing off dozens of rounds towards him.

The sound of gunfire filled the air, surpassing the monotonous sounds of the police sirens as smoke billowed from the shooting. Though as it settled down, the policemen were in for a rude awakening as the closest officer to the left, who was equipped with a shotgun, was taken by surprise at the inhuman speed of the suspect.

There wasn't a single wound on Noah's body, only holes plucked through the fabric of his shirt as he burst forward, eating a full blast of pellets from the shotgun before slamming his fist against the rookie officer's jaw. The blow ripped the man's jaw off cleanly before Noah was pelted with further gunfire.

"Officer down! Officer down!"

"Call for backup!"

It was a dreadful sight for the citizens that watched from the streets blocked by the cop cars and those who spectated from the surrounding buildings; it was something straight out of fantasy–the adolescent was unaffected by the gunfire, only annoyed by it as he dashed over to a pair of officers.

"Ghh-!" The blonde-haired male officer flinched.

​ Before the frightened policeman could pull the trigger again, Noah grabbed onto the barrel of the handgun, snapping the sturdy item in half before impaling his fist through the man's gut.

"Gyuh…!" The officer spit out blood from his mouth, unable to speak as the breath was siphoned from his lungs.

"Lewis…!" The young, female officer screamed.

In the vicinity of such bleak, swift death, the woman lowered her weapon in disbelief, though Noah, with his gray eyes painted in malevolence, pulled his arm out from the man's gut before grabbing onto the woman's chin, snapping her neck.

There was nothing the police officers could do with their low-end firepower, fruitlessly unloading rounds into his immutable body as piping hot bullets simply bounced off of his blemish-free skin.

"--" Noah stood there for a moment with his arms drenched in blood.

After a few minutes, he'd massacred the entire unit of policemen as the street was painted in blood and bullet casings decorated it like fallen raindrops, yet Noah was not pleased by this victory.

[ON-FIELD NEWS REPORTER: "I-I don't know what we're seeing, but it seems the suspect has killed the officers that arrived on the scene. We all heard it…they were firing at him, but none of it put him down.]

Looking towards the sky with absent eyes in the face of the unavoidable conflict, his ears first met with the sound of helicopter blades spinning before multiple of such vehicles came into view.

'Police?...No, not all of them. News…' He realized.

It was worse than the authorities arriving; the presence of the news team brought upon his worst fears: his atrocities were broadcast, unable to be altered without access to his grimoire.

Though it wasn't just police now: SWAT trucks stormed into the street, carrying with them fully-armored agents, geared with superior weaponry than the first responders.

"Suspect ahead."

"Move out."

The kevlar-clad SWAT unit deployed from the back of the armored trucks, carrying assault rifles, shotguns, submachine guns, and other equipment–as such was quickly displayed to Noah.

As he stood there without any fear for his own safety, he watched as smoke grenades were tossed over to his position.

Of course, the chemical agents had no effect on him as he stood in the smoke before rapid gunfire pierced through the veil, bouncing off of his impervious skin as he took a deep breath in.

'Let's get this over with,' he thought.

The first sight the SWAT members saw was the young man bursting out from the smoke with a tattered shirt, running towards the absent police vehicle before flipping it into the air with a simple slap of his hand.

It was such an unorthodox, inhuman action that a couple members of the tactical unit froze, simply looking up and watching as the car soared above them before slamming down, crushing them. The crunch of their bones filled the block as screams from onlooking citizens were heard.

The news helicopter aired all of it, not pulling away:

[ON-FIELD NEWS REPORTER: "The suspect is still at large! I-I don't know if anything they throw at him will work! We still don't understand what's going on down there! The suspect seems to be inhuman!]

Simply barging through and beelining for his house wasn't a perfect option as he'd be followed anyway, but as he tried, SWAT officers holding riot shields lined up to try and prevent him from leaving the scene.

'It's your funeral!' he thought in response to their action.

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