The Kingdom’s delegate family abduction incident had reached a satisfactory conclusion. Most of the kidnapped ordinary individuals reconciled with the superpowered and gradually departed. However, a small number sought the Grimm Group’s secret protection, choosing to distance themselves from the superpowered. These families mostly belonged to those superpowered individuals who had bypassed the collective rescue effort and attempted private rescues instead.

  The allegiance formed among the victims’ families prompted a significant reconfiguration of relationships among the Kingdom’s delegates in Lone Star City. When a man’s wife could bake a cake for the child of her former mortal enemy and even act as a temporary babysitter, it was hard for the men involved not to put aside their grudges, smoke, drink, and discuss which shared enemy was truly the worst. Some even found second chances at love among the opposing factions.

  At the end of the day, the relationship between the Kingdom and the Grimm Group in Lone Star City went from being all cold and class-driven to a more behind-the-scenes kind of cooperation, all thanks to the massive debt of gratitude the Kingdom owed. No matter how one looked at it, Matthew Grimm was the biggest winner.

  The Grimm Group didn't buy off the Kingdom’s delegates; instead, they directly captured the trust and personal, detailed medical information of their loved ones, hinting at future professional medical assistance. Matthew Grimm not only demonstrated intellectual dominance but also secured a long-term investment in the Kingdom.

  Nemo stayed at the Grimm Group’s headquarters for a day, and after confirming that his injuries showed no abnormal developments, Matthew agreed to transfer him to one of the group’s affiliated hospitals for further recovery. Before his departure, Matthew conducted one final wound inspection and dressing change. At the same time, Nemo took the opportunity to inquire about the latest situation of Joyce, the healing-type superpowered individual found in the basement, as well as Hako’s daughter.

  “Ms. Joyce is in stable condition after treatment, but like all superpowered individuals who have suffered fatal trauma, her abilities are nearly gone. She was already quite weak before, which is why Bookstore Owner had to resort to directly drinking her blood to absorb energy. She never underwent systematic training after her abilities awakened, and her powers were never particularly strong—only rare due to their healing nature.”

  “Drinking a superpowered person’s blood can make you stronger or heal injuries? That simple?” Nemo’s lips twitched slightly.

  “I told you before, multiple Fragments won’t produce a stacking effect, the chances of negative side effects are even higher. But after some research, we’ve found that different superpowers might form a kind of food chain relationship. That’s why the black market for superpowered individuals’ bodies is so rampant. It’s the same principle as a lottery gamble. Bookstore Owner just got lucky, he captured a weak superpowered individual who happened to be able to recharge him early on and kept her carefully under control.”

  “Can you tell me more about Ms. Joyce’s background?” Nemo asked.

  “Once she woke up, she worked with us on the preliminary investigation. I won’t tell you her full name—she’ll be changing it soon anyway. Let’s just keep calling her Joyce.” As Matthew cleaned Nemo’s wound, he shared Joyce’s story.

  Joyce, female, thirty-seven years old, unmarried. She had been a long-term victim of domestic violence at the hands of her alcoholic father. Her mother left when she was in high school. Joyce barely graduated but did not pursue further education, working low-wage jobs to sustain the household, living a meager existence alone to this day.

  When the Meteor Shower Event broke out, life for lower-class Americans took a drastic turn for the worse. Everything was in disarray, and even alcohol became a luxury. Unable to satisfy his addiction, Joyce’s father grew even more violent, using her as an outlet for his frustration. That was when he noticed that her injuries healed unnaturally fast. At the time, knowledge about Fragments and superpowers was still uncommon. The man, whose brain had been addled by alcohol, eventually sold his daughter to gang members for the price of a crate of whiskey.

  Joyce initially possessed the ability to heal minor injuries or alleviate serious wounds with a mere touch, making her highly valuable to the gang. However, she received no respect or proper care—only relentless exploitation. After multiple instances of rape and brutal punishment for failed escape attempts, her superpowers significantly diminished.

  When Joyce became more of a burden than an asset, the gang decided to sell her off along with other trafficked individuals. However, rumors about her so-called “miraculous” abilities reached the ears of a Polish elder who was purchasing superpower-related information. At the time, he had not yet joined the Kingdom. The Pole not only took Joyce but also slaughtered the entire gang and anyone who had interacted with her.

  His method was meticulous, he first instigated a gang war through manipulation, then systematically eliminated the survivors. As for the foreign women who had been imprisoned with Joyce—sickly, near death, and chained together—they had no means to resist. The Pole didn’t even need to use his superpowers. Two barrels of gasoline and a single match were enough to erase an entire shipping container of lives.

  The Polish elder studied the occult and was deeply fascinated by vampire legends, for he believed that blood was the source of life. Even though Joyce had lost her touch-based healing powers, he was convinced that her blood still contained power. In the end, his gamble paid off.

  Initially, the old man drank Joyce’s blood to slow down his aging, but to his surprise, he discovered that it also enhanced his abilities.

  To prevent Joyce from falling into despair and committing suicide, the old man gave her hope. He arranged for underground doctors to treat the sexually transmitted diseases she had contracted from gang members and the fractures that had never fully healed. He provided her with food and shelter and told her that the entire world was hunting down superhumans to dissect and study them—at the very least, he would be a more benevolent master.

  The old man promised to only take her blood when necessary. Because of his age, his needs weren’t frequent, and since he had more desirable lovers, he had no need to violate Joyce for sexual gratification. Nor would he risk impregnating her. All she had to do was stay in the house obediently, and in return, he would ensure her safety.

  The mere fact that she wouldn’t be beaten, raped, or forced into endless labor was already a relief. The old man, though dangerous, was still just one man. Joyce had long been tired of living under the constant threat of a group of violent men who mocked her frail and ugly appearance. At least in front of her, the old man acted like a gentleman. For a time, Joyce even thought this secluded life was peaceful, perhaps even happy.

  Eventually, the elder joined the Kingdom. To consolidate power and intimidate others, he frequently used his abilities, which drastically increased his need for energy replenishment. Joyce’s blood continued to weaken, and her treatment degraded from that of a kept pet to a household slave.

  She didn’'t know that the Pole had never truly valued her from the start. He had long been researching the possibility of transferring or infecting others with superpowers.

  Even when he was forced to extract a near-lethal amount of blood from her for his own replenishment, he still refused to completely drain her dry, Joyce was his last bargaining chip. After all, she still had a full set of intact organs.

  At this point, how could Joyce not understand his intentions? She had been exploited by predators her entire life. She would rather give her life to the little girl. Unlike Joyce, Red Plume had strong people who would come to her rescue. The only thing Joyce could do was ensure that the Pole didn’t kill the girl immediately. She willingly fed Red Plume her blood, praying that after her death, her powers would transfer to the child, increasing her chances of survival.

  This was the origin of the deep spiritual bond between Joyce and Red Plume—one gave, the other received. A soul contract that would only be established upon someone’s death.

  “A ’soul contract’? Don’t you think that term is a bit too romanticized?” Nemo commented. But Matthew’s choice of words unsettled him. After all, Nemo had arrived in this parallel world as nothing more than an empty soul—an absurd and damnable fact that only he himself was aware of.

  “When magic begins to appear in this world, or rather, when more superpowers resembling magic emerge, you won’t find the term ‘soul contract’ so out of place. That’s just my intuition,” Matthew said. “That’s why you were absolutely right to insist that Red Plume witness the entire process while ensuring Joyce’s survival. Only by severing their mutual spiritual dependency can this contract-like bond truly dissolve.”

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Joyce’s situation was a typical case of disappearance following the initial awakening of a superpower. Female superhumans found it even harder to survive alone. Due to the societal norm of male dominance and female vulnerability, combined with their naturally stronger social instincts, they were more likely to rely on outsiders and inadvertently expose the secret of their abilities. As a result, many became prey or captives before they had the chance to grow stronger.

  “I’ve arranged psychological treatment for both Joyce and Red Plume. Interestingly, if we go by the latest edition of the DSM manual, Red Plume’s mental state is actually quite healthy—far better than most Americans. She has the expected post-traumatic stress reactions of a young girl who was kidnapped, but they aren’t severe. She’s fully aware of her father’s identity and actions, yet she hasn’t developed Stockholm syndrome toward her serial killer father. She simply says that he allows her to make her own judgments, and she’s still learning how to do that. But…” Matthew glanced at Nemo. “Red Plume insists on voting for KS Man every day.”

  “I also think it’s pretty crazy that Hako already has a daughter at his age. And don’t bring up the voting thing again. Hako straight-up admitted to me that he encourages his daughter to idolize superheroes instead of taking after her old man or a bunch of villains,” Nemo dropped a piece of gossip.

  “Oh? Well, that’s a good thing.” Matthew clapped, though not very sincerely, before continuing with the detailed analysis report. “All psychiatrists and child education experts who evaluated Red Plume concluded that her precocious confidence when interacting with adults is a positive development, stemming from the combination of being raised in a single-parent household, having a gifted intellect, and receiving ample love and care. In other words, the superhuman codenamed Hako has indeed used his professional knowledge to avoid harming his daughter or letting her suffer from societal prejudice.”

  The wealthy man continued, “However, that doesn’t mean his parenting is entirely healthy. After all, children learn by example. That said, Red Plume has a sound ethical understanding, is well aware of bodily autonomy and self-protection, and in these aspects, she surpasses many other children raised by ordinary parents.”

  “Parents who follow a specific religion and raise their children according to its values and behavioral training aren’t necessarily providing a healthy upbringing either. It depends on the case. Those so-called ‘devout’ parents who refuse to let their sick or injured children take medicine or receive blood transfusions? If it were up to me, I’d beat them up first. Let them understand that this world doesn’t only have the voice of God; it also has the boot of the devil.” Nemo interjected.

  “I do appreciate your strong empathy for children. Usually, men tend to be more interested in reproductive behavior.”

  “Are you saying I’m like a woman or that I have excessive maternal instincts?” The curly-haired youth asked irritably.

  “No, I mean that you haven’t grown up yet either. You’re still a child yourself, naturally inclined to protect the weaker members of your kind.”

  “So, do you mean I have Peter Pan Syndrome? Just so you know, that’s not an actual disease. Like Stockholm Syndrome, it’s just a theoretical concept, not even listed in the DSM manual.”

  “Not exactly. Besides, the traits you display are the complete opposite of Peter Pan Syndrome. My evaluation of you is actually quite positive, except that you sometimes throw yourself into danger without hesitation. I worry that one day you’ll dive headfirst into concrete.” Matthew finished bandaging him up, tugged his shirt down, and patted Nemo on the shoulder.

  “The situation on the ground isn’t something I can control,” Nemo muttered.

  “I was waiting for you to say that.” The billionaire’s serious setups were never random; they always led to conclusions that Nemo hated dealing with, such as superpower control, maintaining Michael’s humanity, or the secrets surrounding his past group.

  “Do you remember the mysterious liquid Bookstore Owner splashed all over you?” Matthew suddenly changed the subject.

  Nemo shot him a resentful glare. That incident had forced him to go through a full-body decontamination process straight out of a bioterrorism movie—for the second time in his life, the first being the giant bloodsucking mosquito incident. He had been furious but didn’t dare complain about Matthew’s paranoia, because, truthfully, he had no idea what the Polish old man had thrown on him.

  At the time, the curly-haired youth had simply assumed it was some kind of hallucinogen or poison, figuring that as long as it didn’t touch his skin or mucous membranes, he’d be fine.

  Matthew Grimm did not rise to become the world’s wealthiest billionaire without cause; his careful and all-encompassing paranoia had, in fact, revealed something quite unusual.

  “The majority of it was highly pure heroin, but it contained trace amounts of an unidentified compound. Given the small size of the bottle you described, the heroin itself is negligible. The real question is—why was that compound so precious that he carried it on him at all times?”

  “You mean that little bottle of mixed drugs could have been a special tool given by the Kingdom’s upper echelons to their regional delegates, something money couldn’t buy? After betraying them, that Pole only had this single bottle left, so he must have been saving it for a critical moment to use against a superhuman. Maybe in a situation where he was outnumbered, he’d need to use up most of it just to break through. He couldn’t just use it however he wanted. If it set off the wrong superhuman, they might end up crushing him.” Nemo speculated.

  “At the very least, I can confirm that the drug was meant to be used on enemies. Otherwise, he would have taken it himself to enhance his abilities. Heroin is an opioid, which induces sedative hallucinations. If he had no other choice but to strengthen himself for a final attack, using a stimulant would have made more sense.” Matthew provided a simple yet intuitive analysis.

  “At the time, he probably thought he was about to fall into my hands, and since the drug would have been confiscated anyway, he decided to pour it all out—maybe even as a way to destroy evidence. Even if it hadn’t been directly washed away afterward, a standard drug test would have only detected heroin. It would have taken your genius researchers and miraculous machines to uncover anything else.” Nemo recalled the scene. The Pole had more than one bottle of liquid for attacks, so why had he used up his most valuable one? It was definitely suspicious.

  The Pole hadn’t expected Nemo to deliberately let him go. After successfully escaping, he must have been heartbroken!

  “Heroin was just a diluent. The mysterious compound could very well be the Kingdom’s secret weapon against superhumans. For them to rise successfully amidst global disasters, they must have uncovered some special secret about the meteor showers or Fragments. Though betraying his comrades still meant death, having one less charge of leaking information at least meant he could die a little more comfortably. Or maybe he even hoped to negotiate a deal with some higher-ups in the Kingdom, faking his death and escaping abroad.” Matthew explained.

  “Indeed. Hako is still keeping Bookstore Owner locked up. So what you’re saying is that this compound is under strict orders of confidentiality? That anyone who leaks its existence or uses it carelessly would face a punishment worse than death?” Nemo asked for confirmation.

  The Bookstore Owner was already doomed the moment he betrayed the Kingdom, yet he had been so terrified that he dumped the entire bottle of unknown liquid. Clearly, the penalty for leaking its secrets was even harsher than that for kidnapping the family members of Kingdom delegates.

  “So, don’t go prying or hinting at this with anyone from the Kingdom. If they probe you about it, just say that the Bookstore Owner attempted to drug you and that you were immediately sent for decontamination. If they still won’t let it go, throw the question back at them: ask why the Bookstore Owner was using drugs and accuse them of smuggling heroin. I doubt every delegate is even aware of this special compound or how to use it. After all, there are so many regional delegates just in Lone Star City. But they might have been ordered to investigate certain details about the traitor,” Matthew warned.

  “Got it.” Nemo didn’t bother asking what that compound actually was. As Matthew had said, if it was something Nemo needed to know, he wouldn’t be kept in the dark. If it wasn’t, he couldn’t be bothered to ask. Besides, with such a tiny sample, Matthew probably hadn’t figured it out yet either. And frankly, when it came to chemical compounds, Nemo wasn’t exactly an expert, there was a high chance he wouldn’t understand even if told.

  “By the way, one more thing.” Matthew added, like squeezing out the last bit of toothpaste.

  “Just spit it out already.”

  “In the near future, I might have you join a very high-level team mission. So, I need you to use this recovery period to adjust your mindset. Stop trying to level up step by step. Please, I’m begging you. Humans don’t have that much time. Even Michael came to me with a request—he wants to fight alongside you.” Matthew couldn’t understand it. The vast majority of civilians dream of getting rich overnight, or at the very least, discovering some shortcut to success in their own field. Nemo certainly had the talent to skip ranks, yet he insisted on taking things one solid step at a time.

  And that was the problem. You can use many methods and incentives to change a person’s thoughts and behavior, but habits? Those run deep. For Nemo, being caught on camera and ending up in the news felt like being roasted over an open fire. He was more like a ninja than a superhero. What kind of superhero was more afraid of reporters than villain ambushes?

  “Ka tsáu khùn, ka ū b?n.*” Nemo muttered in Taiwanese. Matthew would record it and look it up later anyway.

  “Fine! Maybe I exaggerated a bit about you and Michael fighting together. But you need to know—I’m really tired.” Matthew leaned against Nemo, pressing his full weight onto him.

  The Leviathan was pulling the emotional blackmail card again. Nemo didn’t dare push him off too hard, fearing his own wounds would tear open. Otherwise, he would’ve already introduced Matthew’s ass to the floor.

  “Get off me! I’ll adjust my mindset, alright? But I need about a month to prepare. Also, about the Hyenas you recruited, if you can convince Jennifer and the remaining members to genuinely reform and contribute their skills to the superhero cause as atonement, I have a use for them. But if it’s just reluctant coercion, forget it.” Nemo wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, but if Matthew hadn’t pushed him, he would’ve preferred to take his time. Leveling up steadily was not only safer but also more satisfying.

  “What kind of surprise are you planning for me?” The golden-eyed man asked lazily, still refusing to move.

  “In a way, you could call it a Christmas present. Which means it requires a bit of ceremony.” If KS Man was about to launch a large-scale operation across state lines in the winter, just thinking about it made Nemo miserable. But he still had enough backbone to declare it.

  “It’s only October 7th today. Are you counting from when your injuries fully heal? Either way, it sounds like it’ll be quite the extravagant gift. I’m starting to look forward to it.” Matthew took the opportunity to ruffle Nemo’s curls, earning several loud protests before finally retreating.

  * This is a Taiwanese proverb, expressed in Chinese as “卡早睏卡有眠,” which means “The earlier you sleep, the easier it is to fall asleep.” It means “There’s no need to waste time thinking about this.”