Secrets and Things (MxM)

Chapter 2 - Does this make me look good?

NOTE:

Oddity (Noun): Magic or power possessed by 0.5% of the world's human population, making them rare and extremely valuable. (They work similarly to quirks in BNHA)

- Italics = thoughts the POV thinks for the story (character development?)

- I realized (parenthesis) can also be thoughts but it's like mix of author's thoughts and the character's thoughts. This is confusing. I guess it's more directed towards the audience than the characters in the story

- I will once again warn readers. I know nothing about corporations and how businesses work so I'm going to be making up shit and departments and you are going to go along with it even if it makes no sense

Previously:

Baldy—an unoriginal but succinct name for the man—abruptly stood up in shock and went into a defensive stance behind his desk. In one of his hands, he had brought up a gun, but not just any gun: it was an Oddity gun. Well, at least he wasn't stupid enough to not figure out that I possess an Oddity.

"Hey, hey, now, no need to be so hostile. I'm just here to talk." Well, for now anyway.

I plastered on a smirk in an attempt to give him false reassurance as well as to subtly notify him that he was in trouble and I was about to fuck him over.

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POV ????

Shaking the gun forward, Fatso (wow, I'm getting better at naming people) yelled with murderous intent.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE? WHAT THE SHIT IS YOUR POWER?"

With a tired sigh, I responded back.

"You already know I'm not going to be revealing my identity, and getting into the building is the easiest shit I've done after learning to master my power. As for what that is... Actually, I feel like it isn't important or necessary. Quite irrelevant really."

Fatso then surprised me with an oddly confident smirk appearing on his face. He further surprised me by giving me an overly confident reply.

"You know, you're revealing your identity by showing up here without a mask of some sort in the first place. You're clearly bad at your job. I can just search you up right now and get you arrested on the spot. "

I gave him a blank face, displaying no emotion whatsoever. I really thought he had gained some braincells when he got the gun. I'm quite disappointed. Continuing to stare at him, I straightened up a bit and simply stated:

"Did you really bloody think I would voluntarily walk around the Central Business District with neon pink hair?"—I paused to point at the crown of my head to target said hair for dramatic effect—"and did you really think I came with my own face on? This is a silicone mask friend of some random face. I'll let you know that I am actually very good at my job, thank you very much. So good that you couldn't figure out that this face was fake."

To prove my point, I distorted and misconstrued the face to the extent that would be impossible for a human who had their own face displayed. With my largest and fakest smile, I finished:

"So, do you like my not-my-face face? I personally like the touch of scars running down my cheeks and forehead. I even appreciate the excess set of freckles bombarding the entire canvas. What about you?"