The first bus arrived pretty much on time.
It wasn't too crowded inside.
Just a few old ladies who were probably up early to window shop in Beverly Hills, and some passengers who looked like hotel staff.
Cassius dropped his coins in the fare box and found a window seat.
The bus crawled along, stopping frequently, as if it weren't transporting commuters but taking them on a leisurely neighborhood tour.
Watching the luxury boutiques and manicured palm trees glide by outside, Cassius felt like last night was just a dream.
As the bus descended the hills and entered more ordinary neighborhoods, more passengers started to board.
Transfer point.
Cassius got off and waited for the next bus at a busy, noisy stop.
The vibe instantly became much more grounded.
When the second bus pulled in, it was already packed.
Cassius squeezed on with the crowd, paid his fare, and struggled to find a spot in the middle of the bus where he could stand steady.
Next to him was a kid with huge headphones bobbing his head to the beat. Across from him stood a middle-aged woman hugging a grocery bag, muttering to herself.
The bus started moving. The speed was still pitifully slow, and the dwell time at each stop was maddeningly long.
Cassius noticed that during the chaotic loading and unloading at the front and back doors, two or three people took advantage of the driver checking the schedule or watching the fare box to slip in through the back door without paying.
Their movements were practiced, their expressions natural—like they were just walking through any ordinary door.
One kid in a hoodie even flashed a smug hand sign to his friends outside after successfully dodging the fare.
Cassius felt a bit exasperated, but he wasn't surprised.
Riding the bus in LA, especially on certain lines at certain times, fare evasion was basically an open secret.
He subconsciously tensed his body slightly. Not out of fear, but as an instinctual reaction brought on by his [Physicality] attributes, giving him a sharper awareness of potential risks in his environment.
With his current physical fitness, reaction speed, and strength, dealing with a few petty thieves wouldn't be a problem.
The bus lurched forward, the cabin filled with a mix of odors.
Sweat, cheap perfume, and the smell of some kind of fried food.
The onboard TV played the morning news fuzzily, the sound drowned out by the roar of the engine and passenger chatter.
At a red light, the bus braked hard, and the standing crowd swayed with the momentum.
Cassius engaged his core and stood rock steady, barely moving.
Meanwhile, the headphone kid next to him slammed headfirst into the grab handle of the seat in front, cursing through grit teeth.
Cassius suddenly remembered the fight with those thugs a year ago when he was trying to save Shen Man.
Back then, he fought on pure adrenaline and guts. His moves were messy. Although he didn't lose badly, he took quite a few hits—split lip, bruises all over his body for days.
If it happened now...
He subconsciously simulated it in his head.
With his upgraded Physicality attributes, he felt he could resolve that conflict much cleaner.
Probably just a few precise blocks and counters would be enough to incapacitate them, and he'd likely walk away unscathed.
That sense of control over his body was something he'd never felt before.
It was the confidence that came with upgraded ability.
Like in a game—once your level and gear are up, looking back at the mobs that used to give you trouble feels like a joke.
Just then, a small commotion broke out in the back of the bus.
A burly guy—one of the suspected fare evaders—got into an argument with another passenger because of the crowding. They shoved each other.
The atmosphere instantly tensed up.
Cassius focused immediately, his eyes scanning the two men, his body entering a subtle state of readiness.
His Physicality attributes allowed him to clearly judge that the big guy's power generation was sloppy and his base was unstable. He was just using his size to intimidate people.
Luckily, the conflict didn't escalate. People nearby intervened, and the driver shouted through the rearview mirror. The big guy cursed but backed off, hurrying off at the next stop.
Cassius relaxed, letting his tense muscles loosen.
The bus swayed into Koreatown territory. Hangul signs became more frequent on the street.
The bus was still crowded, the air stale.
Cassius held onto the strap, swaying gently with the bus, mentally calculating how he was going to clean up the kitchen disaster Lee So-yeon had created.
Just then, he felt an extremely faint tug on the back pocket of his jeans.
Very subtle!
If not for the superhuman tactile sensitivity and environmental awareness granted by his Physicality attributes, he might not have noticed it at all.
He didn't turn around immediately. Instead, through the blurry reflection in the window, he saw a skinny Latino kid in a baseball cap behind him. The kid was using two fingers to deftly try and lift the wallet from his back pocket.
Pickpocket!
The technique was decent, but to Cassius now, the speed was too slow, the opening too big.
Just as the thief thought he had succeeded, his fingertips touching the edge of the wallet—Cassius moved!
No wasted motion. His left hand shot back like lightning, clamping precisely onto the kid's wrist!
"Ah!"
Caught off guard, the thief cried out in pain, feeling like his wrist was caught in a vice.
Cassius kept his right hand on the strap, his body as steady as a rock, and twisted with his left hand.
He controlled the force perfectly—enough to cause excruciating pain, but not enough to cause immediate severe injury.
In pain, the thief instinctively swung his other hand at Cassius's face!
Typical street haymaker!
Complete lack of technique!
Cassius tilted his head slightly, dodging it easily.
He even had the spare mental capacity to critique it internally: That punch is soft. Way worse than Tyson's fakes during rehearsal.
His left hand, still gripping the wrist, pulled downward while his foot executed an extremely subtle trip.
The thief felt an irresistible force pull him off balance. His legs gave out, and thump—he slammed onto the bus floor.
The move was clean and crisp, carrying a shadow of MMA ground technique.
Gasps rippled through the bus as passengers scrambled to clear a space.
[Physicality Attribute: Combat Reaction +1]
A grey orb dropped from his own body.
Cassius maintained control while splitting his attention to absorb it.
The thief was dazed from the fall, his wrist still locked tight. He knew he had messed with the wrong guy.
He looked up at Cassius in terror, rapid-firing apologies in Spanish.
Cassius ignored him and said coldly in English, "Get lost! Don't let me see you again."
At that moment, the bus pulled into a stop, and the doors hissed open. Cassius released his grip.
Like he'd been granted amnesty, the thief scrambled off the bus, not even bothering to pick up his fallen baseball cap, and vanished around the corner.
The whole thing took less than thirty seconds.
The driver had caught the tail end of it in the mirror and shouted back:
"Everything OK back there?"
"Fine!"
Cassius replied. He bent down to pick up his wallet, dusted it off, and shoved it back into his pocket.
The other passengers looked at him with a mix of awe and curiosity.
Cassius stood back up, expression unchanged, as if he had just swatted a fly.
But he knew perfectly well that without the insane Physicality upgrades from the past month, he might have noticed the thief, but he never would have subdued him so effortlessly.
The upgraded Physicality attributes didn't just give him flashy moves for the camera; they gave him real, solid street survival skills.
A few stops later, Cassius got off.
Stepping onto the familiar pavement of Koreatown, he rolled his shoulder, shaking out the arm he had just used. Felt good.
Walking up to his apartment building, he smelled a familiar, eerie scent—burnt char mixed with spicy pepper.
He sighed and accepted his fate, heading upstairs.