Tristain waited until midnight; he was dressed in a simple hoodie and loose pants as he wore a mask he had bought.
Admittedly, he would have to make an actual hero costume soon.
His parents weren't going to be asleep before 12 and he needed to wait until that before leaving his house
He stared at the clock on the wall while looking at his parents room from time to time.
The light of his parents room turned off at 12:03 AM and at the same time, Tristain leaped through the window.
Although it was late, there were still many people around the streets.
The area where Tristain lived in has a relatively small crime rate and even if he started his vigilante activities here, it won't be very useful as no major gangs were based around here.
If he wanted a good reward from the system, he needed to target a high crime rate area of New York.
And there was one special place in New York like that.
Hell's kitchen - the district where most of the gangs in New York City were situated.
From the Hand to the Russians to the Yakuza.
Reigning over all of them was obviously Wilson Fisk aka Kingpin who was the crime boss around these areas. From what Tristain could find on the internet, Kingpin was more of a shadow rather than an actual person.
His identity as Wilson Fisk was something few people knew.
Tristain reached Hell's kitchen and with a small jump landed on top of a building.
Then he ran, jumping from one building to another.
The feeling was magnificent, he felt like he was on top of the world.
Doing that for a while, Tristain searched the streets for trouble. And when he landed on top of an apartment complex, he suddenly jerked his head as a noise touched his ears.
'What was that?' He tried to perk up his ears and focus on the sound.
"Somebody please help..."
"Don't hurt my dad!"
It was a cry for help, and he was able to hear two voices, one was young and the other mature.
Tristain leaped across the building, landing on the top of a wall with a somersault in the air. He ran on top of the wall and moved towards the voice.
He exhaled as the screaming grew louder.
Finally, after a minute, he got a view of what was happening.
"Didn't anyone tell you to always pay your money on time, Steven?" A man with a rough face said in a deep Russian accent as he punched a man in the face.
"You even dared to run away with your kid when we were being nice to you?"
"Stop! Don't hurt my dad!"
"Shut the fuck up, kid!"
He would make sure that they would spend their remaining lives with a limp.
"Let's finish him up quickly and leave."
"Yeah."
Both the Russian gangsters kicked the man who was already bleeding from several places. His son watched in horror, blood flowing down from his head.
Despair and horror filled his heart as he felt like he and his dad would die today.
At that moment, the kid saw something.
It looked like a person but moved like a blur.
'Help... Please help...'
The kid wanted to mutter but no words came out of his dry throat. But it seemed like the masked man understood what he was trying to say as he nodded his head towards him.
'Please...'
The kid blinked his eyes and suddenly, the masked man was gone.
A voice, relatively young, sounded out next.
"You have two choices."
"What?"
"A light beating if you let them go or, well, brain damage if you don't."
"…"
Both the Russians looked at him blankly, as they were about to start laughing. But before they could start, one of the Russians was sent flying into a nearby wall by a fist.
His partner looked at Tristain with wide eyes.
"Who are you?" He asked as he moved his hand to his hip.
A crack answered his question as his leg bent unnaturally after a kick from Tristain
He began to scream as Tristain covered his mouth with his palm.
"Do you regret your actions now?" Tristain asked as the criminal nodded repeatedly with his eyes filled with tears.
"Good" Tristain spoke and broke his remaining leg with another kick.
The man passed out from shock as he dropped like a sack of potatoes near Tristain's feet.
He glanced towards the unconscious man that the gangsters were beating and the kid that was looking at him, his eyes a mix of fear and awe.
Ignoring the subdued criminals, he walked toward the child's father and checked his pulse.
"Is my dad alive?" The kid asked slowly.
"Yes, just knocked out and beat up. We must take him to a hospital. Do you know the nearest hospital from here?"
"Yes, there's one not far away from here."
"Help me get there." Tristain spoke as he picked up the man on his shoulder.
"You okay kid?"
"Yes, I'm fine." The kid said before asking. "What about you, mister?"
"Fine." Tristain followed as the kid led the way.
From time to time, the kid would sneak a look at Tristain. His eyes were full of worry for his father, but he couldn't hide his curiosity about Tristain either.
In the end, he couldn't help but ask.
"Are you a superhero?"
Tristain nodded, "Something like that."
"What's your name?"