Meanwhile, several angry Police Officers, although apprehensive, nevertheless held their line, in front of the safe. Due to the lack of sleep guarding the safe, they were understandably on edge at this stranger who had just entered the premises.
"Don't come any closer!"
Oh?
A caped man strode unworriedly forward.
His name was Reverend Eli, and he had caught wind of some interesting rumours.
That, in Moreton High School, there existed someone with A+++++++++ Genetic grade, the legendary Ice Queen.
He licked his lips.
God helps those who help themselves.
He made a sign of the cross, which made the police officers even more cross.
"Don't cross me."
"Don't cross the line."
One of the police officers' name was Chris.
The Reverend Eli raised a manicured eyebrow, before laughing.
Oh? He looked at the name tag, which read C. Chris C. Ross.
Your name… is Chris Cross?
Hahahhahauahahahagaha!!!!!
He laughed in disbelief.
"Shut up!" Constable C Ross went red, he had always been sensitive about that.
"The C in the tag stands for Constable!"
His colleagues to their credit, kept straight faces, though one let out a slight wheeze, before turning to the side and coughing.
"Summing in my throat. Sorry."
"Anyway, relax. I just wanted to give you these pamphlets. The church is holding a fundraiser you see..."
"Oh."
The police officers lowered their guard, but as they reached for the pamphlets, the Reverend struck with unholy precision, knocking them out by hitting a critical acupuncture point imparted to him by his local down-the-road-and-otherwise-unassuming Traditional Chinese Medicine Specialist.
He had watched the films. You never kill police officers unless you want to be hunted down.
Striding to the safe, he used the fifth hidden technique taught to him by his usually friendly neighbourhood Yoga Instructor, Derek, available for his premium students only, and held the ziplock bag with SD card with trembling hands.
At last!
With a reverent chuckle, the Reverend swept into the night.
___
1002, 1003… 1004!!!
Bob gasped, as he reached his limit.
His push-ups sit-ups and squats were going well, as were his studies on Rizz and improving his overall genetic and epigenetics quality.
Nevertheless, he was dissatisfied, since he knew he had a long way to go.
He needed more knowledge. As such, he had made it his mission to get more information on raising his level, so he could become the ultimate reproductive success.
His Become-A-Hero Company was also requiring maintenance time, but fortunately, he had managed to delegate the monthly classes to his subordinates, Roger and Goku.
It had been an easy sell for Roger, who excelled at cooking, whilst with Goku, he simply gave some DVDs entitled Dragon Brawl Z and let them work their magic.
Goku Matsura, who was in year 9 at the time was initially doubtful, until Jimmy rizzed his way through the objections.
"Listen, Goks'"[1] he said, a casual hand around Goku's shoulder, the other waving to paint a bright and rainbow filled vision of the future, "so you've watched the DVDs. What do you think?"
"Uh, it was pretty good." Goku replied. He had only recently been 'employed' into service, but Bob could tell he had potential.
Bob nodded knowingly and continued.
"Right? We of the Become-A-Hero Co don't know if the godly Cassanovian Gigachad truly exists, but in meantime, there is always Goku. You have to remember… In this world there are Gokus. And then…
He glanced at some of the other members who were lazing around like sloths.
"…There are also Krillins."
Goku snorted.
Bob continued.
"Now don't get me wrong. Krillins are still heroes. But they ain't Gokus." He poked Goku's chest confidently. "They ain't you."
Goku Matsura stood up a bit straighter.
So your job is to help the heroes become heroes. Sift out the Krillins from the Gokus, the Vegetas from the Peters. (Countless Peters in the world sneezed at that moment) What do you think?
"Uh..." Goku was frankly on the fence.
"Of course, with more responsibility, comes more rewards."
Bob whipped out a packet of Mami Monster Noodles with a flick of his wrist. A careful observer would note that the yellow foil packaging seemed to shine in Goku's eyes, and they would be correct since Bob had angled it to catch the cheap fluorescent classroom lighting above them.
"I'll even throw in an extra sachet of msg seasoning."
Goku's eyes lit up, but then narrowed. He wasn't born yesterday.
"I want two packets, Chicken and BBQ flavour."
Bob grinned. "You sir, are a connoisseur and an entrepreneur. I like a man who knows his worth."
He whipped out the pre-prepared second packet, and the men shook hands.
___
As such Bob now had a regular income from his Become-A-Hero Company, allowing him to stabilize his genetic potential at the D+++++ stage, providing him resources to improve his diet, as well as providing him time to study the Art of Rizz to a deeper level.
Nevertheless, whilst a good start, he knew that he would have to acquire more knowledge soon. He was coming closer to the end of the Art of Rizz Vol. 1.
Soon, he would need to locate the second volume.
[1] Note: The way Bob says it rhymes with 'cokes'