He Who Deals the Cards (Cardslinger vs Mister Hero) RPG

It was a hot day in Philadelphia. On the streets, people walked quickly so they could get back to their buildings with their air-conditioning. Inside the small downtown bank, people sweltered as they waited in lines to get to the tellers.

The doors opened as another man walked in. Several eyes were drawn to this man and it was easy to see why. With his cowboy hat and his long leather duster, the man looked like he had just walked out of an old Western movie. He took a puff from a cigarette before stubbing it out underneath his boot.

Jonas was unsure why he was in Philadelphia. He had picked this as a place to go the same way he picked all of his travel destinations. By throwing a dart at a map and letting luck do the rest. This time, he felt fairly certain the Lady wanted him to be here. The dart was heading towards somewhere else before a freak gust of wind adjusted it's course slightly and it landed on Philadelphia.

He had frequented the bars and gambling dens last night and had heard stories of some sort of costumed hero that had been seen patrolling this area. Had some sort of inane name that he couldn't quite recall as he'd been fairly drunk last night.

Maybe the hero was why the Lady had sent him here. Or maybe not. Maybe there was no reason. The Lady's ways could not be understood, not even by him. He had walked the streets before deciding that he needed to do something if this truly was one of the Lady's tests. He had flipped a coin. It had landed tails and so it had been decided.

He drew one of his old antique sixshooters and fired it into the ceiling. Customers jumped to the ground as he shouted,

'Everybody! Hit the deck! I'm taking your money!" He always tried to be direct.

The bank security guards ran towards him pulling their guns out of their holsters. They were quick. Jonas was quicker. He pulled out his other revolver in a blur and fired several times, blowing the guns straight out the guards hands. One of them collapsed screaming as the shot hand mangled a few of his fingers as well. Jonas did not particulary care. He had never liked security guards.

"I said, hit the deck!"

He walked up to one of the bank tellers, cowering behind his screen of bulletproof glass, hoping it would protect him.

He flicked his wrist and six cards appeared in his hands in a flash of violet light. At that moment, something fell seemed to come upon his countanence. He was no longer Jonas King, immortal gambling extraordinare, he was the Cardslinger.

He looked at his cards. A ten, a seven, a King, a Queen, a five and a Jack. He nodded. That will do.

He pressed the Seven to his breast where it dissolved in a sparkle of violet light into his chest. To the bank teller's horror, the Cardslinger than proceeded to walk straight through the bulletproof glass and bank counter. As the Seven disappeared, an Eight appeared in his hand to replace it. He slid the mystical cards into one of his many pockets. He didn't need the rest of them yet.

He pressed one of his guns to the teller's head.

"You will accompany me to the vault."

He raised his voice and waved his gun at several other people.

'Get over here! You will accompany me to the vault! And as for the rest of you, tell the local lawbringers that I have hostages!"

With those words, he marched his group of hostages to the bank vault, occasionally prodding the teller with his gun.

When they reached the vault, he put his arms around all of them.

"Hang on. I've been told that this can be unsettling."

With those words he went out of phase and took the rest of them with him. Before they could utter anything, he dragged them all straight through the thick vault door. Moments after, he dropped them all back into phase.

He herded them into a corner before proceeding to fill his many pockets with as much cash and small items of value as he could find. After filling his pockets he then proceeded to stuff money down his boots and take several gold ornaments and wearing them to maximise his carrying capacity.

By the end of it, his pockets were stuffed, his arms were weighed down with gold rings and bracelets and his neck and chest were draped with diamond necklaces and several pieces of gold 'bling'.

He looked at the hostages.

"I don't need you anymore. You folks just stay put in this here locked  vault until someone rescues you."

With those words he walked out through the vault wall. After walking through several more walls he exited the bank entirely by it's side wall. A few seconds later, the glow around him dimmed as the Phasing Seven left him completely.

He dumped all of the stuff he'd robbed into the gutter before continuing on. He was confident. He was the Cardslinger after all. Who was going to stop him?

It should be ironic that Mister Hero patrolled the skies of Philadelphia, one of the most important sites for the birthplace of the fine and great country underneath him. He would often sit along the edge to the Liberty Bell's cage, respecting it enough to lean against the bars and look up to the sky as the birds chirped and flew past him. In these times, he just thought. There were no troubles; the flag of Old Glory in the front of the museum ensured that. But this day was different. This day, he knew something was about to happen.

Sometimes, he noticed that when a cloud in the sky suddenly appeared, there was usually trouble that followed soon after. He hung his head for a short nap in the middle of the day and when he woke up, took a peek at the clock tower across from him, he looked up and saw seven little tufts. Those bubbles said something to him, like their number was specific. Lucky number seven? He didn't know, but heard gunshots and screaming in the distance. A robbery was taking place. In a flash, the Liberty Bell was alone.

The man responsible seemed to have stepped out of an old John Wayne movie, only he didn't look anything like the protagonist. His features were roughly-hewn, made of stone, and cold. His eyes were fierce and could melt ice sooner than they could make friends. Mister Hero knew today wasn't going to be a good day, especially when he knew a storm was brewing in the distance and closing in on the city. However, he ignored the man for that moment as he dumped what he had just robbed into the gutter. His hat would fall behind him, prompting him to turn around.

And when he would turn back around to make an escape, he would see Mister Hero balancing the very same door to the bank's safe in his left hand; his right hand would be clenched into a fist and held boldly at his hip, allowing him to balloon out the lightning emblem on his chest. He was proud of this city, and the derelict causing havoc in it needed to know the symbol, the last thing he would see before prison.

"Going somewhere, pardner?"

Mister Hero had always been a fan of John Wayne, and he always wanted to say that. He put the safe door down on the street beside him with a loud banging sound, but he let it slowly down with both hands to avoid too much damage. He kept his eyes on the desperado and turned back to face him, exposing his chest with greater authority now that both hands were free.

"Going somewhere, pardner?"

Jonas stopped dead. Slowly he turned around, drawing his six-shooters again. He faltered momentarily. In front of him stood a man in an absurd red costume with a lightning bolt proudly emblazoned on it.. The man had a traditional comicbook hero face, with a cleft chin and black hair. What has of greater importance was that he was holding the door of the vault that the Cardslinger had only recently vacated. With one hand. This man was strong.

He raised his revolvers towards the man's unprotected face as he slowly put the vault door down and puffed out his overmuscled chest. Cardslinger held back a snort. This man was a damn peacock! He had seen their like before. Well, he'd never seen one with muscles that big but that was irrelevant.

For a moment, they stood facing each other, Cardslinger's spry and wiry frame looking very out of place compared to the stranger's football sized muscles. His guns remaind pointing at the man's face. This must be the "hero" he had heard about. Well, if he kept going at it like this then this city would have an ex-hero. He holstered one of his guns and reached into the pocket where he had stuck his cards. He did not pull them out yet though. He might not yet need to.

'Yes "pardner", I am going somewhere. And I would advise that you don't follow."

With those words his gun fired three times. The bullets slammed into the pavement right in front of the hero's feet in an attempt to intimidate him. Was this guy immune to bullets? Cardslinger didn't know. He levelled the gun at him again.

'Scram."

Three holes in the pavement suddenly appeared at Hero's feet. He looked at them with a question on his face, but returned his proud gaze at the bandit. They stood there, even when the stone-faced man uttered a harsh:

"Scram."

Hero just smiled. He was going to enjoy the look on the criminal's face when he was put behind bars. But he had a lot of fighting spirit, and that sometimes proved disastrous. However, Hero just kept smiling and walked toward the man. If he fired off bullets, they would bounce harmlessly off Hero's intimidating structure. It would have to take a miracle of the gunslinger's luck to make him go down, even if the desperado looked powerful enough to wrestle wild mustangs to the ground. Somewhere, police sirens wailed.

"I don't think so," Hero said, his smile wide and cheerful. "You've caused enough trouble in my town today, so I'm going to pick out your cell."

If there were still bullets to be shot his way, Hero would hold out both of his hands to stop them as they came out of the barrel. Somehow, this seemed too easy.

The hero just smiled at him in an infuriating and confidant way. He strode forward with chest still puffed out with it's absurd muscles. Cardslinger's antique gun fired. The bullet hit the torso and bounced off. Oh, that might be a problem. He began to back away as the hero kept coming forward. Cardslinger kept a steady rate of fire with his gun, far exceeding a normal six-shooters ammo capacity.

It didn't work. The bullets had about as much affect as if he had been throwing paper balls at him. Even the shots to the face simply deflected off. Jonas heard sirens in the distance. First this joker and now police? No thanks! He kept backing away, firing bullet after bullet.

I don't think so," the hero said, with that damn infuriating grin. "You've caused enough trouble in my town today, so I'm going to pick out your cell."

Jonas watched as the man arrogantly put his hands in front of his guns to block any forthcoming bullets.

It had become obvious that ordinary bullets were ineffective. Luckily, his two Colts weren't his only means of attack. He thought through his hand again before deciding on a card. He pulled out his cards and absorbed the powers from Ten. A violet glow spread over the Cardslinger's body as he felt filled with strength. Super-strength to be exact. The Ten disappeard and another Jack took it's place.

He immediately launched into the offensive, swinging a haymaker at the hero's jaw. He followed this up with several super-powered punches to the man's torso, attempting to penetrate his powerful durability.

He then backed away and pulled out one of his Jacks. It glowed and expanded into a shield, light yet stronger than the hardest steel. An Ace appeared in his cards.

"How's that for you, hero?"

Hero was about to crush the man's weapons and carry him off to the nearest prison, but an interesting thing happened; he reached into his pocket and drew out a card. It was a ten, but Hero didn't get a chance to see what kind of design it was decorated with. He was clubbed in the chin by the desperado, who was apparently stronger than he looked. A flurry of punches to Hero's gut ensued, but he didn't give up. He stood his ground and remained on his feet. This man seemed to draw some kind of power from his cards, but it couldn't be confirmed with one attempt to stop him.

Gaining his confidence back, he straightened his posture and threw a thunderous punch at the risk-taker, but a shield stopped him. It was like punching at a wall made of steel, and though he could easily puncture entire sheets of the material, he still shook his hand afterward. It burned slightly, like he was using...magic.

Mister Hero ignored the feeling of dread that was growing in the pit of his stomach. He had conquered magic-users before, though great pain and challenge, but he still bested them. This man was no different. He didn't even look like he knew that he was using a low amount of sorcery, just observing the results of his attacks as he threw them out at random.

"How's that for you, hero?" he said mockingly. He was just like any other villain he faced, only with a deck of aces up his sleeve.

"That's my name,"

Hero lunged at the desperado with a great and almost invisible flight speed, reaching out to grab the corners of his shield and force him through the other side of the bank. From there, he would take him at blazing acceleration to the foot of a remote and isolated part of the Appalachian Mountains, where their fight couldn't possibly endanger anyone. If the bandit was still alive, he would be greeted with Hero's hovering visage blocking out the sun.

"Don't forget it."

"That's my name,"

Jonas frowned. His punches did have an effect on the hero but not as great as he had hoped. This guy had a whole lot of durability going for him. The man had swung his fist at him but he had blocked it with his newfound shield. The impact had jarred his arm but the shield held. It looked like it had actually done more damage to his oppoenent as he was shaking his hand like a man who had just punched a brick wall.

The man lunged at him at great speed. He could barely see him. He was carried straight towards the bank wall! Using his superstrength to momentarily break the hero's grip, he moved the shield to the front of his body with the rest of him crouched behind it.

There was a hige Crumpf! sound as the shield smashed through the bank. Huddling behind it, he was relatively unharmed. But the man just kept going! He found himself unable to break out of the mans grip until they had come to a fairly hard landing in a mountain range somewhere.

Slowly getting to his feet, he examined his shield. It was still a pristine white with nary a scratch on it. When the Lady made a shield, she really made a shield.

His amusement faded quickly as the hero appeared looming in front of him.

"Don't forget it."

Jonas did not waste time. He took out his Ace card and absorbed it into his body. It was replaced by an Eight. This was quickly followed by him absorbing his other Jack, which was replaced by another Ten.

"You!" he cried as he leapt at the man, swinging a superpowered uppercut at the man's face. He used the incredible acrobatic abilities imparted by the last Jack to triple backflip backwards to avoid any counterattacks. He pulled out both revolvers at the man and opened fire. Normal bullets may have no effect but these were no longer ordinary bullets.

Empowered by his Ace, the bullets emerged from his guns as Admantium shells, devastating in their power. Not only that but they homed in on their targets like minature heat-seeking missiles. After each bullet left the barrel it split into three identical ones, creating a huge swarm of homing Admantium bullets flying towards the man.

And in case he was still alive, Cardslinger reached into the ice manipulation that the Ace card had given him.

"Avalanche' he called as the mountainside began to rumble and a huge wall of ice and snow came rolling down the mountainside.

The bandit's fist collided with Hero's chin, but it made no considerable impact other than a loud crack and Hero's head being jerked back at an uncomfortable ninety-degree angle. He didn't even grunt with the pain of a magic-empowered blow like what he had just suffered. He just put his neck back into the correct position and stared down his opponent. He was getting serious.

"You're underestimating me."

He tried to swing and knock the man into a state of unconsciousness, but he slipped away and Hero's fist collided with a boulder and became stuck in the rocky material. He lifted the weight over his head and slammed it back into the earth, tearing it in half along a straight line his hand - now fashioned into an edge - had made. Hero looked behind him at the bandit, he had unleashed a hailstorm of bullets from his guns in a matter of seconds. Grunting, he began to fly wide to his left and almost in a circle. Of course, they had to be bullets that sought him out. Aiming himself at the mountain range, he waited until he was at the very face of the natural feature and veered up along its outline.

Some of the bullets became instantly lodged in the rock, destined to never be seen again, but a few pursued him. Obviously.

He turned around, hugging the peaks with his chest. They remained on his tail, but a sudden motion to his right made them disappear forever. Returning to the battlefield after only a few seconds in measured time, he faced the bandit again. He was about to speak again, but the bandit was smiling. Mister Hero turned his back to him and his eyes would have widened in shock, if he didn't expect it to happen. A solid wall of snow and ice was careening toward them, but was solely aimed at Hero. Sighing, he flew off again to meet the challenge.

Hero measured the rampaging storm carefully as he soared to fight it. He appeared at the bottom edge of the mountain, using his fists as a plow during his attempt to dig out a trench for the snow to pile into. He didn't know how far he dug, but the trench went along the entire distance of the incoming avalanche. Measuring again, he stood on the opposite side to the mountain, like the trench was a boundary between them. The snow filled it to the brim and overflowed slightly and covered the toes to his golden boots. Hero stepped away from his work and looked at his opponent, shrugging nonchalantly.

"That it?"

He disappeared with a blast of flight speed and reappeared underneath the bandit, but only after throwing a devastating knee to his stomach that would cause him to roll away into the distance and knock down trees like he was a living steamroller.

Jonas' jaw dropped as not only did the hero evade his Ace bullets but also stopped the avalanche. Just how good was this guy anyway? The hero looked at him with that expression of infuriating arrogance that he seemed to display nearly all the time.

"That it?"

Jonas opened his mouth to say something back when the man blurred into the front of him and slammed a knee into his midsection. His wind left him as he soared into the air, heading for a nearby group of trees. He quickly thought over his current hand.

King, Eight, Jack, Queen, Five and Eight. Wait! That's it! Eight! He quickly absorbed one of his Eight cards into himself. It was replaced by an Ace. Moments before slamming into the trees and the ground he soared into the air in a blaze of purple fire. Thank the Lady for the Flight Card.

He flew over the hero, with one of his guns in one hand and his cards in the other. He also had his Jack-shield still strapped to his arm. From his gun roared a steady stream of bullets. The Ace bullets were gone. These were just normal ones but they might distract his foe. As he soared over the man again he called out,

'What's your name, hero?"

He didn't wait for an answer as he immediately detached his Five Card from the hand. It was replaced by another Jack. He threw it at the hero's feet where it erupted into a localised explosion of hurricane force winds. He doubted that would kill his enemy but it might be enough to push him back or at the very least distract him.

He looked deep within himself and found the Ace Power. Though the Ace had left his bullets, some of it was left in him, though it was fading fast. Acting quickly he harnessed what was left of it and fired a colossal beam of fire and heat at his enemy. He was durable against those attacks but how good was he at standing the heat?

The heat beam lasted a few seconds before his Ace Power ran out. He could've kept the beam running for longer but that would've involved absorbing his other Ace which he wanted to save for later.

He hovered several metres in the air. The Ace Power of manipulation may have gone but he still had his Jack-Shield, his Ten-Strength, his Eight-Flight and his Jack-Acrobatics. He looked at the man.

"In answer to your question, no! That is not 'it'!"

Mister Hero was continually amazed at how this foe operated. It seemed his hand of cards had a loophole to work through for every situation already planned out and ready to be used. Now, the bandit was soaring above him! Hero could have smiled in sheer awe, but the bandit used this power (like he did every power) to try and destroy. He fired a consistent line of bullets from his only unsheathed gun, the other hand occupied with cards. He was some sort of fighter who relied on luck and confidence in how his cards worked. Somehow, Hero respected that. What he didn't respect was the fact his opponent wanted him dead. Hero quickly tried to fly away from the bullets, but they were like the previous volley and followed him angrily. Coming close to the split rock he had made earlier in the fight, he took each half in either hand and held them wide apart like cymbals in a marching band. With a loud and painful clacking sound, the bullets were imprisoned and crushed within the boulder.

"What's your name, hero?"

Dusting his hands off, his attention was focused back on the bandit who was now within range to throw a card at Hero's feet. Initially expecting an explosion from the dangerous man, Hero was instead bombarded with a wave of fierce wind that ripped his costume to shreds. He was relatively unharmed, though he would never hear the end of it from his tailor.

"You should know," Hero replied as the bandit released a beam of fire and incomprehensible heat.

Hero reached up to stop it with his hands, forcing the flames back like water from a garden hose. His feet left the earth and he followed the stream up into the sky and towards the bandit. He was drenched in sweat from the effort and temperature involved, but he kept the pressure on. However, the bandit stopped the attack only to be met with Hero's emblem perhaps right in his face.

"You keep saying it."

He would then throw a tremendous punch at the bandit and even if he should block it with his shield, the sheer impact of it would cause him to fall to the earth with a steady and obnoxious ringing in his ears.

The Cardslinger shielded his eyes as he fired the Ace-Beam straight down into the ground where his foe was. He relaxed the beam afterwards only to see his enemy standing in the air right in front of him! His costume was ripped and burned but the man himself seemed fine. How? How could this man just keep shrugging off his attacks?

"You keep saying it."

The hero then moved with great speed and threw a punch at Jonas. Luckily he still had greatly increased reflexes so he was able to move the shield in front of the blow. He had not expected the sheer savagry of it however. The force of punch hammered his shield and sent him zooming off in a corkscrew spiral until he slammed into the ground.

He got his feet groaning. It was becoming increasingly clear that he couldn't duke it out with this guy and simply trade punches with him. He would have to use alternative methods of attack. He looked at the man.

'Is that what your name is? Hero? Bit unoriginal isn't it?"

This guy was very durable. He knew of only one thing that was even more durable. He activated another Jack card. It expanded into another shield, identical to the one strapped to his arm. Using his Ten-strength he threw the other Jack-shield at Hero like someone would throw a frisbee. The strength of the throw, combined with the sheer Admantium hardness of the shield and it's paper-thin edge would surely be able to penetrate Hero's super-tough skin. The Jack was replaced by a Ten.

Jonas wasn't done quite yet either. He spied a crow flying across the sky as it had been startled from it's tree by the fight. Quickly he drew his King and threw it high into the sky. The throw went true. The King collided with the crow in a cloud of violet sparks and the crow fell to earth. It was replaced by an Ace.

A moment later, it got up again. The Empowerment card had gifted the crow with several abilites. A purple aura surrounded it as it was saturated in magic. It soared into the air in several crazy loops that no ordinary crow could do. This was no longer an ordinary crow. It had gained the Ten-Strength, the Jack-Acrobatics and flexibility, and the Eight-Flight. White impenetrable armour plating covered it's underbelly and it's back as it gained the Jack-Shield power as well.

Attack him

The crow launched itself at Hero, scratching and pecking with magically empowered claws. It flew around his face, attempting to rake it's claws into Hero's face.

Jonas stepped back to watch has he drew his Queen card. It was replaced by a Five. He absorbed it and grinned as his mind expanded and he became aware of the thoughts taking place in the local vicinity.

"As for mine, you can call me the Cardslinger. It'll be the last name you ever hear."

Hero was suddenly stared down by the intimidating edge of a razor-sharp discus and he narrowly dodged a decapitating maneuver by throwing his back wide to his left. However well he could have evaded it, there was no way of totally escaping any damage. The farthest edge of the projectile nicked his chest and caused a minor laceration in his chest to appear. He had been cut! Swords shattered against his body and bullets crumpled into useless heaps of metal, but somehow this man worshiped a living embodiment of his luck and was gifted weapons capable of harming even the greatest of foes. And this situation was no different from those he had faced before, for he only looked on with a quaint smirk on his face. Hero glared at the bandit. He was sadistic, villainous garbage. Even if he was in prison, Hero would have to find time in his day to come and check on him to make sure he wasn't plotting escape.

The bandit suddenly shot down a crow using his powers, and Hero's glare became a widened expression of shock. What was he doing?! Hurting animals without any rhyme or reason behind his actions? Was he completely insane? No, he was doing what Hero knew he was good at: thinking. He knew he needed distractions to keep Hero at bay with so he could draw more power from his cards. The bird was revitalized by the bandit's power, standing and screeching randomly at the air waiting for his orders. Those orders were silent, but were aimed to destroy Hero. The bird launched itself into the air like a bullet and smacked into Hero's chest, trying to pierce his body with its rock-hard beak.

Hero grabbed it by the collar, but it screamed a sonic yelp and caused Hero to back away, hands covering his ears. The bird was just as strong as the bandit, strange as it sounded, and developed super-strength in its body organs as well. It pecked at Hero's hands, which were blocking it from his eyes and face. Eventually, he grabbed it by the collar again, but instead of screeching, its beak was closed by Hero's other hand. Its wings beat violently and razor-sharp feathers fell harmlessly to the ground below them. He put his mouth close to its right ear and whispered, "Stop," which must have sounded like a mountain falling to it. During that vocal onslaught, Hero jarred something in its mind. It halted its attack and Hero let go of its body as it perched on his forearm. It sang happily before flying to its nest off in the distance. Smiling, he looked back to the bandit, who now called himself Cardslinger.

"When you go to prison, those cards of yours are coming with me."

Hero set down on the earth with his golden boots glistening in the sunlight. The storm clouds brewing over Philadelphia were coming toward the two enemies, and fast. Hero stared down Cardslinger, his face utterly serious in tone.

"What's his next card? I have to stop him from using any more." Hero thought, not even noticing Cardslinger's slimy grin plastered on his face.

Hero began to walk toward Cardslinger at a calm pace, watching out for sudden attacks or movements.

"Yeah, I'll use that move."

He disappeared into the wind, the only trace of his previous position being a small cloud of dust being thrown carelessly by his boots. He would circle around Cardslinger at blazing flight speed, disorienting him like if he was on a carnival ride designed to make him hurl. Only when Cardslinger would lose his footing trying to keep up with Hero for every incredibly-fast turn he made would Hero lash out with an overwhelming left hook to the bandit's cheek.

Damn it! Did this guy ever give up?

Cardslinger concentrated on picking up Hero's thoughts thanks to the powers given by his recently absorbed Queen Card. His incredibly powerful enemy had thus far been able to withstand every attack. He scanned his mind and revealed his plan. Thankfully, Hero did not seem to have any mental defenses. His eyes widened as he realised what Hero was going to do. The man landing a solid punch on him would almost certainly knock him unconscious at the very least.

He quickly thought of a plan that may help him evade such an event from happening. Without letting himself show that he knew Hero's plan, he allowed Hero to begin to run around him in a fast dust blowing circle. He knew his foe was waiting for him to become disorientated. Before he did that, he quickly unstrapped his Jack-Shield from his arm and using all of his Jack-Acrobatics speed, thrust it out in front of him right where Hero would be, it's edge turned so hopefully the hero would run straight into it and impale himself.

Cardslinger had more willpower than Hero expected. He was able to not only withstand Hero's dizzying attack, but he was even able to pinpoint his opponent's movements and put his shield out where Hero was flying toward. Remembering the last time he encountered Cardslinger's shield, Hero would be slashed to ribbons with just one touch from the adamant cutting edge! He had to think fast, and he couldn't swerve out of the way and let himself be a target for Cardslinger's personal shooting gallery again. Grunting with considerable effort, he stuck either hand in front of him and bent them at the elbow, expanding his muscles once they were in contact with the metal. The amazing force exerted from the impact literally stopped Hero on a dime, the shield's deadly edge barely touching his skin after easily rupturing through his costume. Sighing with relief, Hero staggered backwards after his feat. He was certainly happy this fight didn't carry on back in Philadelphia.

He looked at his hands, seeing abrasions decorating his palms after the shield had skinned them with a cleaner cut, but still resembling something similar to an encounter with the broadside of the sidewalk. Hero clenched them into fists and looked at Cardslinger, who would only be continuously amazed by Hero as Hero was by him. But the respect as a fighter Hero gave him was not mirrored, but perhaps ignored. Cardslinger wasn't going to show Hero any respect until the bandit was down on the ground in a broken heap, his cards expired, and his fate an eternity in prison. Hero finally regained his composure after his sudden stop took a toll on his sense of balance alongside his previously-blistering speed. However much he could have beaten down Hero's equilibrium, Cardslinger couldn't make him fall.

"You're running out of cards,"

Hero, not even thinking about his next move and letting instinct drive him forward, lunged forward to grab Cardslinger by his collar and force him through a series of trees before slamming him into the face of a boulder.

"And I'm getting impatient."

Hero's eyes grew fiercer by the minute. Finally, he had found someone capable of withstanding the median of power he exposed to the public. But he didn't want to fight someone and risk killing them, for the man's powers seemed temporary. Every time he used a card, his previous powers almost had a hiccup in their dominance over his body. If he was lucky and kept drawing cards to maintain his enormous strength, then perhaps Hero would have considered differently and traded punches with him. But he fought behind guns and projectiles, and that meant he was frail. Perhaps he was frail enough for Hero to snap like a dry twig and he didn't want to risk that.