Chapter 5

[1st POV]

I quickly found myself in my café. 

There was a basement here that had served as a bunker during World War II. 

I don't remember, or rather I don't know, what was here before, but the small bunker remained.

But when I arrived, I saw that all my staff were armed with bats and mops, and the bunker was already half-full of people running outside.

Mrs. Donovan had ordered Bob to open the bunker, and she did the right thing. 

Even though I was a time traveler, I wasn't a complete jerk.

Right then, I saw my neighbor, the bar owner. He was there too, hiding his sixteen-year-old son. 

Nevertheless, he was armed with a shotgun and had ammunition.

We exchanged glances, smiled at each other, and started building barricades, then took positions behind the bar, ready to defend ourselves and those in the bunker.

I never thought I'd have to be a hero, and it's not even about the mission; I just can't sit back and do nothing. 

Besides, there's no guarantee that this bunker will protect us from the Chitauri's weapons. 

I don't want to rely on the Avengers, who I hope won't be messing around with S.H.I.E.L.D. and the police.

After a few minutes, I could hear gunshots and the annoying wail of the Chitauri. 

A few people burst in. 

Mostly, they were women and children, but among them was a man with a Glock. 

He looked like he had served or was still serving. He was just wearing regular clothes now.

"Is there a basement?" 

He asked us.

"There's a bunker downstairs that's been here since the war. Go down there." 

I replied.

"I'll stay. I'm a police officer; an extra gun might come in handy for you guys." 

He said confidently.

"Alright."

"Mary, take Gwen and head down to the bunker, and you all too!" 

He commanded the other civilians.

I glanced at the little blonde girl and realized I was looking at Peter Parker's future love interest, even though she was only about ten years old at most.

"George Stacy." 

He introduced himself.

"Christian Smith."

"David… khakha."

He died the moment a Chitauri shot pierced his throat.

George acted first and shot the two-meter giant with a spear-gun in the head, killing it instantly.

"Aim for the head. It seems to be the only way to take them down for sure, and don't slack off, Mr. Smith." 

He advised me.

I immediately took his advice.

After the first, there came a second, a third… and then the ninth, Chitauri.

I'm not sure how many were pouring in at first, but I burned through a lot of ammo, taking them down.

George had already spent all his bullets in his Glock, so he grabbed David's shotgun.

Then came a brief moment to catch our breath, and half the barricades were either destroyed or piled high with alien corpses.

"Did you serve?"

"No, I just shoot accurately." 

I replied weakly with a tired smile.

"And you, from the looks of it, shoot quite often." 

I asked George as I caught my breath.

"Well, I'm still a cop. I served in Iraq back in the day. You're shooting pretty well for a rookie."

"Well, when your life's on the line, you can't help but get your act together."

"That's true." 

He smiled, though it wasn't a cheerful one.

For another thirty seconds, we caught our breath. 

I pulled out a soda tucked underneath, handed it to George, and then took a swig myself.

As I set it aside, a new wave of Chitauri rushed in with an intense tempo.

We fired back like cowboys in the movie. 

Given the appearance of the Chitauri weapons, I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.

But soon, I found myself worrying less about the humor and more about George, who was out of ammo and had been shot in the shoulder. 

On top of that, the System had turned me into a "beacon" for the Chitauri fighters with this assignment. 

At least they were coming through the "main doors" and not from the roof or the floor, and their aircraft weren't firing on us.

At one point, the sound of machine-gun fire erupted from the street.

The flow of Chitauri noticeably slowed down. 

They kept coming, but now it was just one at a time. 

Soon enough, I made my last shot with the double-barreled shotgun, and I was completely out of ammo.

It felt like the Chitauri were sent here just for the number of rounds I had.

"George?"

"I'm fine. It's just a scratch." 

He grimaced and got back on his feet. 

"Is that it?"

"Looks like it." 

I replied, surveying the battlefield.

There was no other way to describe it. 

With my "Observation," I noticed at least four hundred Chitauri lying dead. 

I hadn't killed all of them personally, but I figured half of them were on my hands.

For some reason, I immediately thought of the "Small Soul Stone." While George was distracted, I discreetly pulled it from my Inventory and placed it in a hidden spot. 

It glowed slightly, and I saw through the System that it was absorbing souls from the Chitauri.

In the end, I clearly miscalculated as it had collected all five hundred souls, and I hid it back in my Inventory. 

George smiled.

"I hear tank sounds. Our people must have arrived."

"That's good." 

I nodded, and then I received notifications from the System.

"Ding!"

[Quest Completed: Patriot]

[Reward: 

1 Level Up.

+200 Reputation with other "patriots"

+10 Free Attribute Points

Title: "Honorary Citizen of the City"

+35 Attribute Points]

'Damn it! I'm such an idiot.'

'I could have invested those points from the last dungeon into Strength and Endurance that would have made things easier, but I forgot about it...'

However, the System pulled me out of my sudden melancholy once again:

"Ding!"

[10+ "Accuracy."]

[5+ "Observation."]

[1% chance that you will encounter a "celebrity."]

[1% chance that you will get caught up in a "story."]

[Title: "Chitauri Slayer."]

[Chitauri Slayer: As a Chitauri Slayer, all Chitauri's enemies will treat you better, but each Chitauri you kill will make them view you worse and worse.]

Now I understand why the Chitauri were so focused on me. 

Apparently, they had a grudge after I killed their brothers. They must have sniffed me out, sensing that their future death awaited them here.

Just when I thought it was all over, something crashed through the roof and landed right in the middle of the café floor. 

George and I armed ourselves with knives but hesitated to get any closer.

As the dust cleared, I saw a dark-haired man in a horned helmet, wearing gold and black attire. 

He struggled to his feet and looked straight at me first.

"Ding!"

[Your second target is Loki Laufeyson. As the God of Games promised, you have acquired a "dark-haired person" for your harem, who has fallen in love with you at first sight and with the same intensity.]

"What the hell!" 

I exclaimed yet again for the umpteenth time that day.

"What the heck is going on?!"

He looked at me and... smiled. The little devil dancing in his green eyes really scared me and made me uncomfortable.

"Hello, handsome." 

He said that scared me so much that my knees were shaking.

I would have preferred the Chitauri charging at us again rather than this.

"Go to hell!" 

I shot back at him.

He was about to respond but didn't get the chance.

He was knocked out when a familiar monster with green skin and huge height fell on him from above and hit his face on the tiles of my café. 

Thor was following him. 

He stopped the monster and flew him and his brother up into the sky.

'Thank Hulk!'

'If Bruce Banner shows up here, I swear I'll prepare him the best I have...'

"And what was that?"

"Trouble!"

I replied.

'Why am I not surprised that the God of Games left a loophole for mocking me?'

Soon after the "alien visitors," a local "green," though hidden and not a giant like Hulk, came in.

"Is anyone alive?" 

A soldier asked.

"Did you take down this pile of idiots?"

"We did. Are our people in the city?" 

I replied, still trying to process what had just happened.

"Yes, sir. Is anyone else here?"

"Civilians are in the bunker below." 

George said, now more relaxed and calm.

"We need help to get them out, and I need a doctor personally."

"Stay here, sir." 

The soldier nodded.

"I'll bring the necessary people."

...

A week later, I found myself in the grasping hands of Emma, who had returned from somewhere without communication with New York. 

She had learned about the invasion that was stopped by the Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D., and local "minor" heroes, including the X-Men.

She was eager to relocate me for "my safety and her peace of mind." She kept trying to pressure me with her influence, but I would not budge on the move.

I almost shouted at her but managed to stop myself just in time. 

In the end, she backed off for a while.

As for my café, due to the destruction in the city and the employees being occupied, I simply didn't have the opportunity to restore or repair it quickly.

Therefore, I started doing the job myself. 

After two days of working alone, I acquired the skill "Jack of All Trades." 

However, I hadn't leveled it up by the seventh day of work. 

I honestly didn't know why.

I alternated this alone repair work with trips to the dungeon, still exploring the "Garden of the Dead." 

I acquired another "small soul stone" with a capacity of five hundred souls and some other loot: fifty hundred thousand dollars, a kilogram of rubies, nine emeralds, seven hundred grams of amber, and a small pile of diamonds. 

Although I no longer needed money, I genuinely faced a dilemma about how to dispose of this wealth.

After filling the "small soul stone," I immediately decided to sell it at the "Store." 

They didn't buy it from me but exchanged it for a skill—"Regeneration." 

Despite all the times I had cut or bruised my fingers, I had never developed this skill, and practice showed that it was very useful. 

However, the downside of this purchase was that skills acquired this way were somehow twice as difficult and time-consuming to level up. 

While I was excited about this purchase, I was also somewhat disheartened by the complication.

I, along with several other residents of the city and police officers, including Stacy, was awarded the title of "Honorable Citizen of New York City" in the afternoon.

They even presented us with a small monetary reward, medals, and certificates.

By the way, George had advanced in his career; not only did he become a detective, but he also managed to head the homicide department.

This might have been because half of their department had been shot or turned into disabled, leaving only him, an experienced officer capable of handling the job.

He informed me of this while we celebrated in my café, which had been cleaned of the dirt, dust, and remains of the Chitauri. 

The atmosphere was good, but he and I had bonded over the shared experience of attacking aliens, our mutual interests, and my cooking, which everyone enjoyed.

After everything, I returned home, tired, and decided to distribute the points I had earned from levels and Chitauri kills.

In total, I had fifty-five points. 

I hadn't gained anything from the weekly dungeons except loot and some experience. 

I didn't gain two levels in "Accuracy," so it was time to move on to a new place. 

I probably had "outgrown" this one.

As for the points, I decided to invest twenty-five in Strength, another twenty-five in Stamina, and five in Agility. 

After that, I headed to the shower.

I was holding onto the wall with my hands, but two hands touched my shoulder.

"Emma, how could you possibly—Aaaah!!!" 

I screamed when I saw Loki behind me.

"There's no need to scream, my dear. Don't be scared, see?" 

He spun around with his arms raised.

"I'm unarmed and completely… open for conversation."

'Holy crap!'

'Holy crap!' 

I repeated my thoughts.

"By the way, my mother approved of our relationship, and under her influence, so did my father. So both Mom and Father have freed me from custody so I can find my happiness with you, my darling. I even promised not to invade this planet if I could win over one "round little fella. Even Thor believed me!"

"What the…"

"Oh, right. I forgot to introduce myself: Loki Laufeyson… your future husband!"

To be continued…