I Somehow Became The Almighty Creator, l can create anything: Be Ware
Chapter 60

Chapter 60: Chapter 60

A/N: I have made a little clarification about the change in his abilities so for those who might want to know more, please re-read Chapter 47.

.................

Watts settled into the chair opposite Anitta, his expression neutral but his sharp eyes taking in every detail.

The towel wrapped loosely around her seemed more like a statement than a necessity. Her demeanor was effortless, but Watts could see the gears turning behind her alluring smile.

"I need an identity," Watts said plainly. "One that won’t raise any suspicions in the hidden city."

Anitta leaned back, crossing her legs, the towel shifting slightly.

Her lips curved into a sly smile, and her gaze lingered on him for a moment before she responded.

"That’s quite a request," Anitta said, her voice dripping with mockery. "You’re not exactly booking a weekend getaway to Vegas."

Watts didn’t flinch. "I never liked gambling."

His tone was even, yet there was a faint edge to his words, as though he’d already assessed her game—and dismissed it.

Her smile widened, impressed by his calm under pressure. "Well, Mr. ... Whatever your name is, such a request doesn’t come cheap. Ten million."

Watts didn’t blink. "Done."

Anitta arched an eyebrow, her interest piqued. Most men would flinch, try to haggle, or at least show some reaction.

But he remained unbothered, as if she’d asked him for a mere penny.

"You’ll also need a credit card," she added smoothly, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward slightly.

Her voice dropped an octave, laced with subtle seduction. "Cash and normal money are useless in the hidden cities. Everything runs on Universal Coins. One coin equals ten thousand dollars. Conversion’s simple enough."

Watts nodded. "No problem."

She tilted her head, studying him as if trying to unravel a puzzle. "You seem very sure of yourself. How much are we talking about here?"

Watts leaned back, his tone casual, almost disinterested. "Let’s start with a deposit of five hundred billion dollars."

The air between them seemed to still for a moment. Anitta’s practiced mask of calm faltered ever so slightly, her eyes widening.

She leaned back, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she tried to regain control of the moment.

"Five hundred billion," she repeated, almost to herself. "I deal with some of the wealthiest people on the planet, but even they don’t toss numbers like that around."

She leaned forward again, her eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"

"Just a normal guy that needs to get the hell out of here," Watts replied simply.

She let out a giggle, her curiosity deepening, but she chose not to press further, instead picking up her phone and making a call.

Her voice was low and rapid, switching between languages as she barked instructions. Once she hung up, she turned back to Watts.

"Two hours," she said. "Your ID and credit card will be ready."

He gave her a curt nod, showing no impatience.

She hesitated briefly, then added, "You’ll also need to pay an additional ten million for transportation to the hidden city."

Watts’ expression remained impassive. "I’ll arrange my own way."

Anitta chuckled, shaking her head. "Of course you will."

There was a knock on the door, and a young woman with a clipboard stepped in, her face tense. "Ms. Anitta, we have a situation—"

"Not now," Anitta snapped, her focus still on Watts. The secretary hesitated, then left reluctantly, casting a curious glance in his direction.

"Where were we?" Anitta asked, her tone softer now, her fingers toying absentmindedly with the edge of her towel. "Oh yes, your... impressive deposit."

Watts didn’t react to her flirtation, his gaze steady. Her subtle attempts to disarm him seemed to only heighten her intrigue.

A second interruption came minutes later. The same secretary entered, her voice urgent. "Ms. Anitta, I really think you should—"

"Later," Anitta said firmly, waving her off. The door closed once more, and she sighed, shaking her head.

"People don’t seem to understand the importance of focus," she murmured, her gaze sliding back to Watts. "But you do, don’t you?"

"I focus on results," Watts said, standing as if the conversation was concluded.

Anitta watched him with a mix of curiosity and frustration, her smile faltering briefly.

For the first time in a long while, her charms had no effect—and it intrigued her more than she cared to admit.

The door at the far end of Anitta’s room slid open with a whisper of precision engineering, revealing a lithe woman dressed in the guise of a dancer.

"Oh, your ride is here, see you later darling," Anitta quiped though Watts didnt care to reply.

The woman gestured for Watts to follow her, her movements fluid and unhurried.

He noted the tension in her shoulders and the economy of her steps—trained, deliberate, purposeful.

Not just a dancer.

Watts followed without comment, his footsteps silent on the polished floor.

They moved through a narrow corridor lit by faint blue lights embedded in the walls, the atmosphere sterile and cool, a sharp contrast to the sultry ambiance of the bar.

At the end of the corridor, the woman stopped before a sleek metal door with no visible handle.

She leaned forward, allowing her eyes to align with a recessed scanner embedded in the wall. A thin beam of light swept across her pupils, and a disembodied voice filled the space.

"Identity confirmed. Welcome, Agent Mirai."

"Open area 52," she said, her voice steady, authoritative.

There was a hum of machinery, followed by a sharp whirl of gears. The door shifted, panels folding in on themselves like petals of a metallic flower.

Watts kept his expression neutral, though the sophistication of the mechanism caught his attention.

’El Max make sure you record and copy every tech in there,’ Watts commanded his suit mentally.

"Affirmative" responded El Max.

They stepped through, entering a space that seemed like a completely different world.

They emerged behind a bustling complex, its towering facade gleaming under the bright daylight.

The building was immense, its architecture a blend of futuristic minimalism and intricate designs that suggested hidden purposes. Crowds streamed in and out, their movements efficient but varied.

Watts’ sharp eyes scanned the people around him. The aura of the crowd was unmistakable—evolved.

Each person carried a certain presence, a confidence in their movements, and an intensity in their gazes.

Their eyes held a sharpness that cut through the noise around them, and faint, almost imperceptible glimmers of energy seemed to cling to their forms like static in the air.

Even without words, they exuded power, the kind only those who had undergone at least one evolution could possess.

His guide moved ahead, weaving through the throng with practiced ease, and Watts followed.

She led him into the building, through a series of procedures that required more biometric verifications, voice authentication, and some background and other information.

The woman later stopped at an administrative counter, where a man in a tailored suit handed Watts a thick stack of forms.

Watts filled them out methodically, his precision as sharp with pen strokes as it was in combat.

Next, he was guided into a chamber where machines hummed and panels glowed.

"Full body scan," his guide said as the door to the chamber slid shut behind him.

A lattice of light swept over him, and for a brief moment, Watts felt a strange, tingling warmth settle over his chest.

The machine whirred softly, then paused longer than expected. His guide exchanged a glance with the technician, whose hand hovered near a control panel.

Then, just as suddenly, the scan completed with a chime.

Watts felt the slight tingle of advanced tech analyzing every molecule of his being, but his expression remained impassive.

He then stepped out and then was told to make the transactions, the ten million payment was made and the half a trillion deposit on his card.

This would give him 50M Universal Coins, pretty much one of the richest.

Minutes later, a second attendant handed him a sleek black card.

The edges gleamed faintly under the light, and the card bore a subtle but unmistakable insignia of Universal Coins.

Alongside it was an ID card featuring his newly minted identity.

"Welcome," the attendant said politely, bowing slightly.

Watts nodded, slipping the cards into his pocket without fanfare.

He was then led back out through the labyrinthine mall, the woman accompanying him until they reached the rear exit they’d initially used.

From there, it was a short ride back to the bar.

When Watts re-entered, the pink and purple lights of the Lucky Rabbit seemed almost mundane compared to the energy of the mall.

Anitta was lounging in her usual spot, her towel now replaced by a slinky red dress that left little to the imagination.

"You’re efficient," Watts said, handing her the forms he’d received.

"I aim to please," Anitta replied with a smirk, her eyes lingering on him.

He didn’t linger, giving her a polite nod. "Until next time."

"Next time, bring me a better challenge," she teased as he turned to leave, her voice playful yet laced with intrigue.

Watts stepped out of the bar, the evening air cool against his skin. The neon lights flickered, the city’s hum alive around him.

His path was set, time for some action.