Gamer Man had been staring at his bank account for the last hour.

Things were not going well. While his pride and joy, the power frame, had survived the burning building, his suit, weapons, and gadgets had not fared so well. The first thing he did was clean and maintain the power frame, letting it stand as a piece of gleaming perfection amidst a pile of burned out scrap.

The power armor needed to be cut off of him, a servos that let it open had been burned badly and fused shut. The insulating bodysuit had partially melted, and Gamer Man had to take a pair of scissors to it and peel it off like a banana. The magic rings were fine, which was fantastic with how much of his skin the bodysuit had pulled off with it. That had hurt, and hurt badly, but with the ring of regeneration he was quickly back to good health.

So much had been ruined, from overly mechanical gadgets Gamer Man hadn’t even gotten a chance to use, to high grade electronics that would need to be completely replaced. His helmet, with target finders to tell him where any of his ranged weapons would land, ammo count displays, motion trackers, long range communications, even a minimap, was completely broken.

This had led Gamer Man to sit at his computer, staring at his bank account balance. Winning the lottery had gotten him into being a superhero, and at first he thought he would have all the money he would ever need. He hadn’t even looked at the price tags on some of the gadgets that Cape’s Cave sold, until one month he found he couldn’t afford electricity. That had certainly slowed down his purchases.

Since that time, Gamer Man strove to be as thrifty as possible. Buying parts that he could assemble, then buying raw materials that he could turn into custom made equipment. It had stretched his wealth a considerable distance, though there were some things that Gamer Man couldn't make on his own. Unfortunately, these tended to be exorbitantly expensive electronics and programs.

Gamer Man ran numbers in his head. He would need the electronics if he wanted to keep fighting tougher and tougher villains. He would also need a lot of prefabricated pieces and tools in order to get back to superhero work as soon as possible. He would custom make as much as he could, the unfolding shield he had before fused together and Gamer Man realized the design was unnecessarily complicated. If Gamer Man skrimped and scrounged as much as he could, he thought he would just barely be able to afford more superhero work.

But that was only a symptom of a much bigger problem. When Gamer Man’s riches ran dry, he would be rendered homeless. A years-long gap in employment, no skills that he could openly speak of, and the property taxes on the large house he used as a base would leave him on the streets.

Maybe he could move back in with his parents, but he had never made time for them since he first donned the helmet of Gamer Man. Was there some way to earn money as a superhero? Gargoyle, Gamer Man thought! He got paid by Stone Cutter, right? Did Stone Cutter actually have money? Enough to fund superhero work? But then Stone Cutter would learn Gamer Man’s secret identity, wouldn't he?

Decisions, decisions. Gamer Man played one of Faery Fire’s hit singles and started regretting that he wasn’t an incredibly attractive, charming, hardworking and talented woman, then his money problems would be solved.

Supposedly, Gamer Man thought, the Exigent Circumstances was working on interdimensional travel. It was exciting stuff, if it was real, with all sorts of questions about what these other dimensions would be like. Maybe there was a dimension where Gamer Man was an incredibly attractive, charming, hardworking and talented woman. Gamer Man took a moment to ponder the thought. If there was, Gamer Man concluded, he hoped there wasn’t.

Gamer Man unrolled a large sheet of blueprinting paper, sketching out designs between glancing at his phone. If only he had asked Stone Cutter for his phone number. The elusive hero had hacked his way into Gamer Man’s systems, so he didn’t have a phone number to call back. Even if Gamer Man did have a phone number to call back, he seriously doubted that contacting Stone Cutter of all people would be that easy.

Unless it was.

“Hey! Stone Cutter!” Gamer Man yelled, “If you’re listening, hack into my playlist, I want to talk to you!”

Fifteen minutes passed as Gamer Man designed a new shield, an arm slide that could quickly bring it to his hand, and a back strap to store the shield. Gamer Man tapped his pen against the blueprint paper. Maybe he could use the same rail system with some of his other gadgets, or was he overcomplicating things again? Actually, this might work for gadgets mounted under his arm. Having quick access to his grappling gun would be helpful.

A few hours later, Gamer Man had finished the rough designs for his new suit of power armor and set of gadgets. He was actually surprised with how much he could build on his own. It saved him enough at Cape’s Cave that Gamer Man decided to give the owner of Shredders a call. He still wanted that motorcycle.

“Look kid, if it’s still there you can have it,” Erik said, “I already foreclosed on the place, wasn’t worth much anyway, and no way am I going back there now that Hell Seeker is around. I can deal with a lot, but I can’t deal with that.”

“Really? Thanks!” Gamer Man said, “Oh, Hell Seeker is dead now.”

“According to who?” Erik asked.

“Me,” Gamer Man said, “I watched him die.”

“And what exactly killed him?” Erik demanded.

“Gorestrike did,” Gamer Man demanded, “Then he, uh, then he told me to tell other people.”

“You think this is funny, don’t you,” Erik said.

“Absolutely not,” Gamer Man assured, “Gorestrike is no-”

The man hung up.

Not the most unexpected thing in the world, but still a bit disappointing. Still, it seemed like Gamer Man’s luck was finally turning around! He just had to venture into the crime ridden South King’s Head to retrieve a motorcycle from a store that, if his luck kept, wouldn’t be ransacked by looters.

A task better left for the morning, Gamer Man realized when he checked the time. He spent another couple hours finishing his daily training. He had a moment to spare, and decided to check into the bard’s stream.

“-Because that’s what it does!” the bard yelled, “You buy a potion of fire breathing, you get a potion of fire breathing! You buy a potion of stone skin, you get a potion of stone skin! How is that so hard to understand? Wear off? Why would it even wear off? What kind of amateurs do you think you’re working with?”

Gamer Man looked at the chat log, digging through it as more angry comments piled up. Who was she talking to?

“Hold on, ‘I was fifty, drank the potion of youth, and lost my job.’ Then buy the other one and give it to your wife. Why do you think there’s two?” the bard said, “It was clearly labeled, I really don’t know how this is my problem. Fakes? Fakes! You thought- All right, chat, we’re about to have a ‘please just play the game’ moment. Listen to me you little-”

Gamer Man quickly muted the sound on his computer as the bard went on a tirade at whoever was buying her magic potions, and wondered if watching her was the healthiest thing he could do.

Maybe, Gamer Man thought, He could just wear the power frame and get the motorcycle now. Without the power armor to attach the frame, it wouldn’t really be a comfortable fit. But he could strap himself in and stuff towels into some of the rougher bits. It could probably work.

The night air was cold, much colder than what his sweatshirt and jeans could handle. It bit into him as he jogged down the road. He made decent time to Shredders, even as he shivered in the night. The motorcycle was untouched, gleaming in the wreck and ruin of the storefront. Gamer Man strode inside, gazing at the motorcycle.

He heard the distinct click of a gun cocking. Three thugs stepped up from behind ruined shelves stacked up by the entrance. Gamer Man let out an irritated sigh as he raised his hands.

"Wallet and phone," the lead thug said, pressing the gun into Gamer Man’s head.

"I don't have my wallet with me," Gamer Man said, cursing the power frame's lack of head protection, "And I didn’t bring my phone."

"Everybody carries their phone," one of the thugs said.

"Not people who plan to pick fights with giant laser warriors," Gamer Man said, "Seriously, do you have any idea how many phones I lost to stray gunfire? I kept missing daily quests on my favorite mobile games, it just wasn't worth it."

"We're not here for your life story," the lead thug said, "Money. Now."

"If I'm not going to bring me phone on superhero work," Gamer Man said, "Why would I bring my wallet? I actually used to carry money with me, just to get the occasional snack. Then ran into a burning apartment, and the wallet melted into my skin."

"Then how are you still walking?" the third thug asked.

"Because I'm a superhero," Gamer Man said, "Look, I can give you the power frame. I just need a moment to undo the buckles."

"We could get a couple million off that," one of the thugs said.

"We'd have to scrap it first," the lead thug said, "Custom pieces like that don’t sell, too ."recognizable.”

“And just who’s going to know this kid anyway?” a thug demanded.

“I’m twenty two, not a kid,” Gamer Man insisted.

“Work getting that thing off,” the leader ordered, “Before I have to work on scraping your brains off the floor.”

“Alright, alright,” Gamer Man said, untying the straps on the power frame. Gamer Man took the power frame off and ducked, using his telepathically commanding the frame to attack. The power frame spun about, punching the gun wielding thug with its boxy, metallic fist, and Gamer Man activated his haste ring before launching himself at the other two thugs. He had little experience with hand to hand combat, and his attacks were clumsy, but the haste ring had him moving as a blur. Gamer Man smashed apart the first thug’s guard with heavy, relentless swings, and the second thugs watched in disbelieving terror. As the last man tried to run, Gamer Man sprung on him and pummeled him unconscious.

Strapping himself back into the power frame, Gamer Man grabbed a phone from the pocket of a fallen thug and dialed the police.

“Nine one one, what is your emergency?” the operator asked.

“Hello, I am a thieving crook lying unconscious on the floor of Shredders, an abandoned motorcycle shop on Ninth Street of South King’s Head,” Gamer Man explained, “I tried to rob a superhero, picked a fight, and lost. I also heard that getting knocked unconscious can be really bad, so medical personnel should probably be deployed alongside law enforcement.”

“How many of you are there?” the operator asked.

“Three,” Gamer Man answered.

“South King’s Head is an incredibly dangerous place,” the operator said, “Does the superhero you attacked have a name?”

“Gamer Man!” Gamer Man said.

“Sir, misuse of emergency services is a crime,” the operator said.

“I’m being serious,” Gamer Man insisted, “I came here to pick up a motorcycle, and was attacked by three people. Those people are unconscious. Well, hold on. Yeah! Dude! Are you awake? Okay, those people are probably concussed, or at least heavily bruised.”

“Squad cars are being deployed,” the operator said.

“Thank you,” Gamer Man said, with just a bit of a huff.

The motorcycle started smoothly, and Gamer Man liked the purring rumble of the engine. Ideas for modifications idly formed in his head. After the purchases needed to rebuild his power armor he had some money left for upgrading a vehicle. After that, he would be a superhero for as long as he could afford it.

After that, Gamer Man didn’t know. But he'd figured out being a superhero, he could figure out being a person.

Turning onto the street, and taking the long way back to his house, Gamer Man thought things were looking up.