He Was a Mortal, Yet He Stood in the Heavens

At the nightclub, Heisenberg drank as he listened to Bullseye's report.

"The Six Streets Gang and the Rhino Gang are fighting tooth and nail, and Brooklyn has already been affected.

"Since we no longer deal in drugs, the Red Hat Gang, Skull Gang, and Daredevil Gang are also fighting like rabid dogs over the largest share of the drug trade.

"Kingpin's main force—his team of enforcers—has basically been pacified and brought under my control.

"Now, people are dying in Hell's Kitchen almost every minute. So, Boss, it's time for us to make our move!"

In the end, Bullseye wanted to make a name for himself.

He wanted to establish a foothold in New York's—and the United States'—underworld for his second boss!

Seeing Bullseye like this, Heisenberg nodded pleasantly.

"Do as you see fit."

His underling was taking such initiative. Why would he stop him?

"Yes!"

Bullseye was immediately satisfied.

Over the past three days, every time he watched the other small and mid-sized gangs build their reputations and rake in profits, his heart had itched unbearably, as though clawed by a cat.

Now, he could finally make his move!

Although his boss did not deal in drugs, there were simply too many other profitable businesses on the streets.

Smuggling liquor, smuggling weapons, lending money, collecting protection fees, getting into real estate.

There were so many ways to make money, and he had to lead his men to earn more than they ever had while working for Kingpin!

But before that, he still had to deal with one nuisance.

Those damned street heroes...

Still, there was no need to bother the boss with such a trivial matter for now.

Bullseye could tell that the boss had been especially gloomy these past few days. He did not want a few punks in ridiculous costumes to affect the boss's mood.

After Bullseye left, Heisenberg drank in boredom.

He seemed to have a hard time getting drunk. A Kryptonian's cellular vitality was simply too high, making it difficult for alcohol to affect him.

Still, as long as he drank enough, he would eventually feel a slight buzz.

Heisenberg liked that feeling.

After getting used to being a Kryptonian, after the excitement of transmigrating had faded...

Heisenberg felt lost.

He missed home.

He would not let his longing for home overwhelm all his plans like a child.

But in the end, he could not stop the emptiness in his heart.

Owning a nightclub had been one of his greatest dreams before he transmigrated.

Those who understood, understood. The biggest club in a city represented not wealth, but a certain kind of social standing for its owner within that city.

Yet something he had once longed for so desperately was now within easy reach...

It seemed his dream had become cheap.

"Boss!"

The operations assistant's voice sounded beside him. Heisenberg looked over lazily.

"The Mars Exploration Theme Party has been set up, but we need some heavyweight guests to attract enough high-class customers!"

Billy explained softly.

"Hell's Kitchen has been chaotic lately—extremely chaotic. You... still cannot replace Kingpin's authority in New York for the time being. Customers who were close to Kingpin may not choose to visit us, so we need a new source of customers!"

"Mm, I'll invite Tony Stark."

"Th-This...!"

Billy was stunned by Heisenberg's words.

"Are you sure Tony Stark will show up for the theme night?"

"Absolutely. After all, if he doesn't come, I'll personally drag him here!"

Heisenberg said confidently.

At that, Billy nodded with a beaming smile.

"That's great. I'll focus the theme night invitations on the capitalists. Can I use Tony Stark's name for promotion?"

"Sure. Handle it as you see fit."

Heisenberg dismissed Billy, then personally wrote an invitation and had one of his men deliver it to Tony Stark.

After that, Heisenberg checked the time. It was 3:20 in the afternoon.

Some ambitious woman was probably coming to bother him again.

Three days earlier, at S.H.I.E.L.D.

After Heisenberg left with Barbara, Agent Hill immediately took samples from the cup he had used.

Unfortunately, although she managed to collect some of Heisenberg's saliva tissue, S.H.I.E.L.D. could do absolutely nothing with those tiny samples!

They used every method at their disposal, yet they could not cut open even a single one of Heisenberg's cells!

After all, in the DC Universe, quite a few people had used Superman's bodily fluids and the like to clone him or conduct various studies.

But in truth, those experiments had all been carried out with Kryptonite as a prerequisite.

Cloning was not as simple as taking a cell and producing an identical one.

A cell that was indestructible and impossible to sample could only be cultured, not cloned.

But culturing Heisenberg's saliva tissue...

Heh. Nick Fury was more inclined to get enough ** from Heisenberg.

That was what had real cultivation value.

As a result, over the past few days, Heisenberg's Nightclub had truly become a gathering place for so-called goddesses.

"Boss, another new dancer is here to apply. Would you like to meet her personally?"

Billy returned and whispered into Heisenberg's ear.

Heisenberg nodded. He knew who had come this time.

So when the so-called dancer appeared beside Heisenberg's booth, he greeted her gloomily.

"Long time no see, Agent Hill."

"Heh, I can't say I was particularly hoping to see you."

Hill sat down across from Heisenberg as if she were familiar with the place, casually picked up his cup, and took two sips.

Seeing that, Heisenberg asked without even looking up, "Our deal is over, so leave before I get sick of you. Go far away."

"Yes, your deal with S.H.I.E.L.D. is over, but the trouble you brought me has only just begun!"

Hill complained as she poured herself another drink.

After draining the freshly poured glass, Hill asked softly, "You killed Kingpin, recruited his men, and launched an ambitious assault on New York's underworld.

But that is far too small-time. Surely your power was not meant to be squandered on something so degrading?"

"So what? Because I'm strong, I should attack United States military bases?"

"No, no, of course not military bases. Rather... would you be interested in more cooperation?"

"Like what?"

Heisenberg asked without the slightest interest.

"Like space. Your abilities could explore space more effectively, and you would gain even greater benefits!"

"Just go. Even if they sent you to my bed, I still couldn't be bothered to cooperate with you. I... am merely a homeless exile. Besides, I've already grown tired of space!"

Heisenberg smiled as he rejected Hill's proposal.

Hill was not discouraged. She rose with a hint of helplessness and leaned closer to Heisenberg.

"You seem very melancholy. Because of your hometown?"

"Perhaps."

It was rare for Hill to get to the point, so Heisenberg raised his glass and clinked it against hers.

After they drank, Hill's cheeks began to flush.

She had drunk too quickly. In that short time, her third glass of whiskey had already gone down.

Resting her chin on one hand, she made small talk with Heisenberg in a soft voice.

"Hometown... I was born in Texas. It wasn't a good place—at least, I didn't like it at all back then.

My father had a terrible temper. At the slightest provocation, he would physically punish my brother and me.

A long time ago, I even wanted to curse him, to send an irresponsible man like him to hell.

But later, I gradually realized that all his so-called beatings and scoldings had never truly hurt us.

And toward our mother, he had been even more attentive and caring.

When I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and became an agent, a soldier, I finally came to understand my father as a veteran.

But I could no longer return home. I... shouldn't have let my identity become a burden to my family.

Just take it as me complaining. In any case, perhaps I could understand a little of how you felt.

Only a little, because I wasn't the leader of my hometown, nor had I bid farewell to it for a full eighteen thousand years.

And it was even more impossible for me to end up stranded on a planet I had never visited..."

"That's right. You wouldn't understand me..."

Heisenberg nodded. No one knew what he truly missed.

That longing would grow ever more intense in the days to come, but he knew very well that he would gradually adapt to it and slowly become numb.

So he tapped his wineglass and said softly.

"Seeing as you haven't tried anything against me, I'll give you a reminder.

You can plant your people in my nightclub!

They can listen and watch, but they absolutely must not cause trouble.

If they affect the liveliness I want, they'll die, and so will you.

Go on."

"Rest assured, we'll try not to place agents around you anymore."

"Try? Heh heh, fine. Let's leave it at that!"

"Don't be dissatisfied. We don't want to waste valuable manpower on you either."

"Yes, waste it on me, because I'm too unique, too powerful, too volatile, and too many people fear me. But that isn't a reason for you to bother me, is it?"

"Perhaps. I'm leaving..."

Agent Hill nodded, rose to her feet, and left.

After she had taken around four steps, Heisenberg called her back.

"The next time you come to see me, there's no need to disguise yourself as a dancer. Just give them my name. Consider it your privilege."

"Mm-hm. Should I say thank you, or should I say it's an honor?"

"Say goodbye..."

After saying that, Heisenberg silently sat back down on the sofa.

Hill slowly departed as well.

He sat alone for a long while, his parents' faces and voices endlessly echoing in his mind.

The more he thought about them, the lonelier he felt.

Heisenberg simply left the nightclub and went up to the rooftop to bask in the sun.

As he lay there, he suddenly began to feel tired.

What was he supposed to do in this damned Marvel Universe?

At that moment, he truly wished his system would issue some mandatory quests.

Though that might seem like a loss of freedom, at least it would give him a goal.

But now, he could only search for his own goal.

Before transmigrating, he had been an ordinary person.

After transmigrating, he had been excited.

Once the excitement passed, he became lost.

He would drift without purpose and fail to find any sense of presence.

All because he had yet to truly integrate into his identity.

As he basked in the sunlight, he kept strengthening his resolve.

He had to get used to this feeling, get used to the endless loneliness he was destined to endure in the future.

He was merely a mortal, yet he stood in the heavens.

The more one gained, the more one had to lose.

Elsewhere, after returning to S.H.I.E.L.D., Agent Hill reported to Nick Fury.

"Director, it matches the assessment of the Psychological Specialist from the General Staff. Heisenberg is clearly experiencing inner turmoil, but I still don't believe we are qualified to exploit him."

"I have no intention of exploiting him. I only need to confirm that he truly possesses emotions similar to those of us humans!"

"If he has emotions, then he has weaknesses. But his power can erase nearly ninety-nine percent of those weaknesses."

"Then there's still that one percent possibility left, isn't there..."