Three months had passed.
Inside the Federal Bank headquarters on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan.
"Sir, we cannot approve your loan application." The clerk behind the counter adjusted his glasses, his tone perfunctory.
The applicant was a middle-aged man whose face had flushed red. "What do you mean? My credit record is good, and I have sufficient collateral!"
"I'm sorry, but this is a decision from headquarters."
The man slammed his hand on the desk. "You bankers only know how to bully ordinary people!"
Anger burned in his chest, and he suddenly felt some kind of power stirring within him. The ability he had been assigned three months ago—the power to sense the internal structure of metal—spiraled out of control in his emotional agitation.
Boom!
The steel door of the vault suddenly twisted out of shape. The thirty-centimeter-thick alloy plate was wrung into a spiral like dough by an invisible force.
"Ah!" Screams erupted.
The entire bank lobby descended into chaos as depositors scattered in panic. The man himself was terrified; he had no idea what had just happened.
Similar incidents were playing out across the world.
Inside a bakery on Baker Street in London.
"This bread is from yesterday! Are you trying to scam me?" A customer pointed at the shelves in protest.
The owner shook his head. "It was definitely made today. Look at the date label."
"That's nonsense!"
The customer became agitated, and the ability he had gained—the power to control the rate at which organic matter decayed—suddenly erupted. The bread in every bakery along the entire street instantly grew green mold and began to emit a rotten stench.
On Tokyo's Yamanote Line.
Driver Tanaka had already been working for twelve straight hours, and his eyelids were growing heavier and heavier. As the train passed Shinjuku Station, his