He carefully drew the Elixir Pot symbol on the palm of the left-hand glove, making sure every line was precise. Then, turning the glove over, he drew a shield symbol on the back of the hand for defense.
After that, he picked up the right-hand glove again. The gravity gun symbol was already on the palm. Thinking for a moment, he decided to add more offense.
He drew a plasma gun symbol on the back of the right-hand glove, balancing offense and control.
By the time he finished, nearly two hours had passed.
Nicolas leaned back and exhaled slowly, looking at both gloves.
"…Alright," he said. "Time to test them."
With a focused expression, he stood up—ready to see just how far his new powers could go.
Finally, he raised his right hand.
First, the gravity gun.
A loose chair nearby lifted slightly off the floor as if gravity itself had loosened its grip. Nicolas pulled gently, and the chair floated toward him. With a small push of his palm, it shot back and slammed against the wall—stopping just short as he cut the force.
"Still smooth," he noted. "No loss of control."
Then came the real test.
He flipped his hand over and focused on the plasma gun symbol on the back of the glove.
The air around his hand heated up. Blue-white energy condensed, forming a humming orb just above his index finger.
Nicolas swallowed.
"Low power," he said quickly.
He shaped his hand like a gun and aimed at the solid wall.
A marble-sized blue bead shot forward, striking the wall and leaving behind a red, glowing hole.
"Yep… thankfully I reduced its power," he mumbled as he walked toward the impact point.
Fortunately, the shot had stopped midway through the concrete, instead of blasting straight through.
Nicolas let out a slow breath.
"That would've been bad," he said quietly, staring at the scorched hole.
With a serious expression, he lowered his hand—now fully aware that even his low-power setting was nothing to joke about.
Nicolas straightened up and flexed his fingers, the faint heat around the glove slowly dissipating.
"Okay… offense is covered," he muttered. "A bit too well, actually."
Next he tried the left hand glove, cutting his finger as blood flowed out of it, as he winced a little and then activated the elixir pot symbol as green light covered his finger healing it back to normal.
"Okay, its also working perfectly" Nicolas then tried the Shield symbol as a fully body invisible light shield formed in front of him covering his entire body. Nicolas tried it poking it hard with knife but nothing happened.
"Good. Now I have offense, defense, support, and control—everything's covered," he nodded to himself, looking down at his gloves.
He let out a quiet sigh.
"If only I could have these directly on my own skin," he muttered, then shook his head.
"I should get some gloves that will stay on my hands even if someone tries to snatch them," he added, looking down at the simple, once-stylish gloves he was wearing.
Now, with all the symbols drawn over them, they were definitely no longer stylish—but they were far too important to lose.
That night, Nicolas sat on his bed and asked his system,
"Alright. What's my limit?"
[ The template the Host inherited was able to grant powers to up to 100 people. ]
[ It was even capable of granting the Phoenix Force, though the original user fell into a coma afterward. ]
[ Therefore, as long as the Host avoids extremely high-tier powers such as the Phoenix Force, the Host will be fine even after creating 100 artifacts or granting 100 people super powers. ]
Nicolas nodded slowly, absorbing the information.
"And what about increasing that number?" he asked. "And the quality of the powers I can give?"
[ With each level of Enlightenment, both the quantity and quality will increase. ]
[ The first Enlightenment upgrade costs 10,000 EP. ]
Nicolas frowned. "That's expensive."
[ Do not ask why. ]
[ It is an Omega-class power. ]
Nicolas sighed and leaned back on the bed.
"Figures," he muttered.
"Now that I have powers, all I need is to learn some fighting techniques," he said quietly as he stood up and walked over to the window.
"Original Nicolas was a thug who took whatever job he could get," he continued, sorting through the memories. "Obviously, I'm not going to do that now."
He paused, then let out a breath of relief.
"Fortunately, he was just a small-time thug—mostly beating people up for a loan shark firm. Nothing too serious."
Still, that didn't solve his current problem.
"But that means I need to find a new job," he groaned, rubbing his forehead.
After a moment, he spoke again.
"System, my EP also depends on my fame, right?"
[ Yes, Host. The Host's fame determines additional EP gain. ]
[ Without fame, the Host's EP generation remains at 1 EP per 24 hours. ]
Nicolas looked out at the city lights.
"So if I want to grow faster," he murmured, "I need people to know me."
Whether that was a good thing—or a dangerous one—was something he had to decide for himself.
"Now… I can either work as a vigilante in the shadows with a superhero persona," he muttered, "or work openly as a cop."
Both paths had their pros and cons.
A vigilante would gain fame fast—fear, rumors, whispers spreading through the underworld. But that kind of fame came with enemies, bounties, and attention from people far stronger than him.
A cop, on the other hand, meant rules, paperwork, and limits—but also legal authority, steady access to information, and protection from the system itself.
Nicolas exhaled slowly.
"For now," he said quietly, "I'll stay where I am."
He needed experience first. Control. Training.
Hero or shadow—
He wasn't ready to choose just yet.
He turned away from the window and sat back down, mind working through possibilities.
"For now, I'll build a foundation," Nicolas thought. "Get stronger without drawing too much attention."
He glanced at his gloves resting on the table.
"I need training," he said softly. "Real training. Hand-to-hand combat, firearms, tactics."
The memories of the old Nicolas gave him some street-fighting experience, but that wouldn't be enough in this world.