Upon returning home, I started on a thorough cleaning that had long been overdue, but my laziness constantly threw a wrench in the works. If someone other than me lived in this two-bedroom apartment, I would have definitely gotten a motivating kick in the pants to boost my productivity. Alas, by the time I moved into this world—or simply remembered my past life—my parents had long been dead, and my legal guardian was my grandmother.
A rather wealthy woman of sixty-five, who, I suspect, has seven-figure sums in her accounts from profitable investments in her youth. The old lady also has about a dozen properties at her disposal, both in the US and abroad. For her active nature, it's perfectly normal to change her place of residence every few months to alleviate boredom and get a new emotional charge. So, when she was forced to take custody of her orphaned grandson, her usual lifestyle was disrupted. Grandma had to settle down for a while, which turned out to be the toughest ordeal she'd faced in the last ten years.
Of course, it's not like my relative didn't love me and wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible... well, actually, she definitely dreamed about the latter. That's why, when I started high school, she bought me an apartment in a good neighborhood and immediately took off for Italy. And that's how my semi-independent life began.
At first, she visited me every couple of months, checking if everything was okay with her grandson and whether he'd gone down the wrong path. But as soon as I turned eighteen three weeks ago, grandma declared that I was now practically an independent member of society and no longer needed supervision. After that, she asked me not to bother her over trivial matters, but to responsibly enjoy my youth. Like, if you need any papers signed—contact me; if you feel unbearably ill—come over to talk it out; but otherwise, don't disturb an old woman trying to live out her remaining years.
Of course, my dear grandma didn't leave her grandson without means of support, transferring a sum of money to me each month sufficient to cover all basic needs and then some.
It's worth noting that she was the one who influenced my decision on which school to choose. She bet on Midtown not only because it's a fairly prestigious school, but also because the kids who study there are, for the most part, not ordinary kids. Apparently, she sincerely believed that with my personality, I'd find common ground with the children of local rich folks and acquire the necessary connections and acquaintances that would come in handy later in life.
The cleaning took about four hours, and afterward, I was mentally exhausted, though I still had plenty of physical energy left.
"System, I kept forgetting to ask, how many ranks for panties exist, what determines the specific gradation, and what rewards are given for each?" I decided to ask the burning question after sitting down on the couch.
Honestly, with all the recent events happening one after another, I just hadn't had time to look into all this more thoroughly.
[There are 7 ranks in total, from S to F. The system ranks panties based on the beauty and power of their owner...]
Then the system explained all the nuances in detail, but to simplify: F-rank is for somewhat pretty girls (like that gangster chick from the alley), E-rank is for beauties (Liz Allan fell into this category), D-rank is for top-tier beauties—I haven't encountered any yet, or rather, haven't had the chance to steal their panties. But I think MJ might fall into this category. This cohort also includes girls with minor superpowers, I assume like a slight increase in physical parameters.
At the C-level, a girl's attractiveness practically doesn't matter anymore, and superpowers take center stage. This rank corresponds to women of average power level. What exactly the system means by "average" remains to be seen.
B-rank is for high power levels or exotic abilities. A-rank is for girls whose abilities affect reality, space, time, souls, or correspond to a near-planetary level of power. Powerful goddesses might also fall into this category.
And finally, S-rank. The system's explanations here are quite vague, as the abilities for this rank are off the charts.
Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck me. A loophole I hadn't thought about before for some reason.
"System, is it necessary to take the underwear directly off the girl? Wouldn't the ones stored, say, in their closet work?" I mentally addressed it.
[Master, I advise you not to embarrass yourself. Thieving is a proud and piquant profession, involving risk commensurate with such high rewards. A mandatory condition is removing the panties from the girls, either directly or indirectly. Clean panties will not elicit any response, as they are not saturated with the owner's bio-energetic matrix. Auff!]
The system is explaining thief code to me... Foolish of me to expect anything else; apparently, where I went to school, it was teaching.
Accepting this reality, I surveyed the apartment once more. It hadn't been this tidy in a very, very long time. After all, where a woman's touch doesn't reach, but a man lives, everything turns into his lair.
Now I'm completely ready for tomorrow's meeting with MJ. Operation "Catch the Panties If You Can" is officially a go. I just need to order some groceries for tomorrow; I think she'll be impressed by my bachelor life skills.
After checking tomorrow's class schedule and finishing all my homework, I took a shower and crashed into bed. Surprisingly, the moment my head hit the pillow, consciousness was whisked away to the kingdom of Morpheus.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the last lesson. Schoolchildren, like wild animals freed from their cages, gathered in groups and happily scattered to various leisure spots. Some headed to sports clubs, others went to hang out with friends at shopping malls. I, however, was planning to go home, but not alone. Today was the day MJ and I agreed to work on our joint chemistry project at my apartment.
"Levi, I'm ready," Watson announced with a hint of shyness in her voice. I wonder, had she ever been in a guy's room she barely knew? Anyway, it didn't matter; I'd soon fix that.
"Then let's go," I gave the signal for our walk to my place.
Saying goodbye to Gwen, I noticed the blonde watching us with a complicated look, anxiously biting her lip and furrowing her brow. Probably regretting that the teacher didn't pair us up but put her with Parker instead. After all, we spend most of our time together doing homework.
"So, what time do you need to be back?" I asked Watson to pass the time on our walk.
"Already tired of me?" the redhead arched an eyebrow questioningly.
"Not at all! Quite the opposite, I want to keep you longer," I grinned slyly.
"Oh, and why's that?" she cooed.
"All in the name of completing the project quickly and efficiently, of course," I noted importantly, lifting the corners of my lips in a smile.
"And that's it? And here I was hoping..." MJ trailed off meaningfully.
"Hoping for what?" I asked the girl to finish her thought, not wanting to be left in suspense with vain hopes.
"For your help with the math homework. I just can't fully understand today's topic," the redhead explained with a crooked smile. Seems admitting weaknesses wasn't her strong suit.
"So that's it. You wanted to brazenly and unscrupulously take advantage of Levi's intellect. I don't mind helping a pretty classmate," I replied with obvious playfulness in my voice. Talking with Mary Jane was pleasant and easy, which I had to admit was quite disarming.
"Ah, silly me, I thought you valued me for my character traits, like..." MJ thoughtfully pressed her index finger to her lower lip, looking at me slyly, "...my charisma, sense of humor, and my charm."
"Them too," I nodded in agreement. "Believe me, I'm not so superficial as to pay attention only to external appearance. The soul is just as important!"
"That's why you're constantly looking at my eyes. Admiring the window to the soul, huh," my companion teased, implying something other than the eyes on her face. She got me, but I wouldn't be Levi Stone if I gave up and capitulated so easily.
"You're right," I conceded. "Sorry for being blunt, but you look—amazing. Ever thought about going into modeling?" I asked the girl sincerely; the more I looked at her, the more I realized that Watson had the makings of a femme fatale in the near future.
"F-flatterer," Mary Jane flushed with embarrassment, her eyes radiating gratitude. "Thanks, but for now, I'm focused on helping my family, especially my mom."
"Okay, if you ever decide to, let me know, I'll support you," I smiled involuntarily. "By the way, speaking of parents, did you tell them where you're going? Wouldn't want them to start worrying," I inquired sympathetically.
"As for curfew, you don't need to worry. My parents wouldn't even notice my absence, even if I disappeared all night. Well, I should probably tell my mom, but even she'd be happy if I spent as little time at home as possible," she explained her family situation in a sad tone.
"If you want, you really could stay over at my place for the night," I offered, seeing that my classmate had absolutely no desire to go back to hers.
"No, no, I don't feel right imposing my problems on you. Your parents probably wouldn't appreciate an uninvited guest showing up on their doorstep. And don't think I'm angling for a sleepover, I'm just explaining my situation."
"Come on, from what you've said, I gathered you have problems with your father. Am I right?" I responded warmly, in a friendly way, wanting to somehow support the girl.
"Uh-huh. Let's just say, he's not the easiest person to deal with," Mary Jane said quietly with a hint of disgust in her voice.
She was definitely downplaying the problem. As far as I remember, in many canonical stories, her father is a hopeless alcoholic who loves to verbally abuse his wife and daughter, reducing them both to tears.
"Then stay at my place. Don't worry, my parents won't mind—I don't have any," I encouraged, putting an arm around her shoulder, though judging by the redhead's expression, it seemed like I was the one needing support.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. Here I was complaining about my problems, and you..."
"Don't worry, I've learned to live with it," I said, turning my face away. "But sometimes I get lonely, so I wanted someone to fill the unbearable emptiness at home," I decided to play on her sympathy to get my classmate into my villainous lair and find an opportunity to steal her panties.
"I..." MJ pressed her lips together and thought for a moment. "Okay, I don't mind a sleepover."
"Great!" I clapped my hands joyfully. "I promise not to be too forward. Oh, we're almost there. See that building? That's where I live," I quickly changed the subject to avoid being caught with evil intentions.
"That skyscraper?!" Watson asked, shocked, pointing towards it.
"It's not exactly a skyscraper, but yeah. Well, shall we?" I invited the girl in.
"Mr. Stone, you're full of surprises," MJ said without malice and deftly took my arm. "Lead the way, I can't wait to see your apartment." I never thought I'd impress her in such a simple way.
We entered the building, took the elevator to the twentieth floor, and soon I was opening the door to my apartment for Mary. It was noticeable that the girl felt uncomfortable being a guest at what was practically a rich kid's place.
"Have a seat, I'll make us some tea," I sat my classmate at the table in the living room, where we'd work on the project.
"I didn't know this came with such service," the redhead said with an undisguised smile, hiding her awkwardness behind it. Apparently, I was the first guy whose home she'd ever been to.
"Only for you, Red," I replied smugly, and while she was catching her breath, I retreated to the kitchen. Let her sit alone for a bit, get used to it.
I dashed to the kitchen, put the kettle on, tossed two tea bags into mugs, then changed my mind and put one back in the box, logically deciding not to waste resources—one bag for two cups was enough. After all, a penny saved is a penny earned.
Returning to the living room with the hot drinks, I found MJ watching TV. She hadn't taken her eyes off the screen before I came back.
"Levi, look what's happening!" the girl pointed in surprise at the TV, which was showing news about Tony Stark's kidnapping.
"In a special report: according to sources in law enforcement, billionaire and inventor Tony Stark, head of the major company Stark Industries, has been kidnapped by unknown persons during a business trip to the Kunar region of Afghanistan," the girl turned up the volume. "The incident occurred after a demonstration of the 'Jericho' missile system. Stark's vehicle came under sudden attack by the terrorist group 'The Ten Rings.' Currently, Mr. Stark's whereabouts remain unknown. US authorities have activated an interagency operation to search for and free the hostage. Details of the investigation are not being disclosed at this time," the Fox News anchor finished in a serious, urgent voice.
It's begun. My heart skipped a beat at the realization that the gears of fate had started turning at full speed. From this moment, events would accelerate, and the world would be thrown into chaos.
Tch, I need to speed up my power gains. With the appearance of superheroes and other concerned citizens, those who had been hiding so diligently in the shadows for years, accumulating power, strength, and wealth, would crawl out.
"Even though he's a playboy who changes girls like gloves, I still feel bad this happened to him," Mary commented.
"Well, those girls knew exactly what they were getting into; nobody dragged them into bed by force," I defended my fellow enthusiast.
"That sounded kind of suspicious. You're not dreaming of following in his footsteps as a womanizer, are you?"
"Oh no, of course not!" I refuted the vile insinuation, especially since I really don't plan on swapping women like Tony Stark. A harem — that's the path of a real man. You need to be able to take responsibility for the women you become close with.