Preparation

10 AM.

"Hello, we're from the Daily Bugle. We need to interview your boss—please let us in!"

"Damn it, we're from the Daily Planet! Superman's hometown paper is ours—let us through!"

"Fuck, this is America, land of the free every day—you can't block our freedom to interview!"

"Don't waste time on them, these guys are just mob thugs!"

"Rush them—they wouldn't actually open fire!"

"Let us in, Billy, I'm your friend—I know the manager of the Academy of Sciences Nightclub!"

Countless reporters trying to get close to the nightclub, hoping to interview Heisenberg, this sudden Superman.

They'd nearly clogged the nightclub's entrance entirely!

Luckily, this building had once belonged to Kingpin's enterprise, and after Bullseye paid out a few bullets' worth of cost, ownership had ultimately transferred to Heisenberg.

So these reporters had been chased from the nightclub all the way down to the building's lobby.

Heisenberg lay on the rooftop, soaking up the sun. He should have been enjoying the peace.

After all, he had no interest in turning on his super-hearing.

He wasn't Superman, constantly monitoring the city for who got hurt, who faced disaster, who got robbed.

He didn't have that drive to save people across the world.

So, aside from a few voices he'd specially flagged, he usually kept his hearing at a normal human level.

Only that way could he enjoy some quiet.

But today...

Forget normal hearing—even a deaf man could hear the racket downstairs!

"What the hell!!!"

Heisenberg, sprawled on his lounge chair, was utterly annoyed—he'd even lost the urge to drink.

He got up, shuffled to the edge of the rooftop in his slippers, and peered down.

The moment he showed his face, the reporters below erupted into a deafening cheer.

"Over here, look over here!"

"He's appeared—let us in!"

"We're reporters—we have the right to interview Mr. Heisenberg!"

"Heisenberg, are you Superman?"

"Your strength is stronger than Iron Man's suit—you can fly with just your body—you're Superman, aren't you!"

"Are you and Captain America a couple, like in those comics?"

Huh?

Where did that colleague come from, and what kind of racy comic was he reading?

Even amid all this chaos, that question made countless reporters freeze for a split second.

But only a split second.

"Last night's plane crash in India—why didn't you step in to save them? Are you America's Superman?"

"You didn't help with the Japan earthquake either—you must have grown up in America, right?"

"Superman, how long have you been Superman?"

"Heisenberg, wave to your fans already, ahhh!!!"

Faced with such a cacophony of shouts, Heisenberg's eyebrows nearly knitted together.

"I'm only warning you once—clear out!

If you've got questions, come drink at the nightclub tonight—we'll talk over the table!!!"

Heisenberg yelled down from the rooftop, but who cared about his promise right now?

"We won't take up much of your time—five minutes, just five minutes, okay?"

"We understand, but can you give us one question?"

"Superman, think of your fans—countless kids are waiting for your latest news!"

The reporters' voices didn't stop—they only grew louder.

"Motherfucker!"

Heisenberg clicked his tongue in annoyance, then turned and walked toward the swimming pool.

He let out a sharp breath, and Frost Breath instantly froze the pool's water solid.

Then he dug his fingers into the ice, and with his Biological Field, he easily lifted the pool-sized block of ice in his hands.

He casually tossed the massive block of ice down toward those damned reporters.

But he didn't go all the way—a flash of red flickered in his eyes, and the intense heat of his Heat Vision, upon contacting the ice, caused it to explode apart in an instant.

Even so, countless shards of ice plummeted from hundreds of meters up, and those reporters were still in for a world of pain.

Sure enough.

The next moment, the cheers below Heisenberg Mansion turned into wails.

"Ahhh, what's that?"

"It's hail!"

"Hail my ass, it's ice!"

"Run, ahhh!!!"

Hundreds of reporters scrambled in panic. This wasn't a movie—no one was stupid enough to just stand there watching things fall from the sky without bolting.

But even so, what good did running do?

Heisenberg's Swimming Pool had held at least twenty tons of water. That much ice slamming into the ground, even shattered, was enough to hurt the reporters.

Except for a few who'd muscled their way into the building or ducked under nearby cars with agility.

Almost every other reporter had blood trickling down their heads.

And their suffering was just beginning.

Up on the rooftop, after tossing the ice, Heisenberg casually picked up the phone from the drinks table.

"Hey, Bullseye, take your men and check out those paparazzi downstairs.

Send the seriously injured to the hospital—I'll cover the bills.

As for the ones who aren't hurt or only lightly hurt, beat them to the point where they need hospitalization. Got it?"

"Got it, Boss. But what about the female reporters?"

Bullseye asked cautiously.

A moment later, Heisenberg frowned.

Female reporters!

Like Lois Lane—the kind that could turn into a Kryptonian's weakness?

Terrifying!!!

With that thought, Heisenberg took a breath.

"Hit them harder, but don't touch their faces. Use your judgment."

"Understood, Boss!!!"

Bullseye eagerly accepted the task.

Putting down the phone, his reverence for Heisenberg was beyond words.

Even under his old Boss, Kingpin, something like openly attacking reporters would never have happened!

Sure, Kingpin had sent him to deal with a few reporters before.

But that was only when pushed to the brink, seething with rage, and even then, they had to act in secret.

As for challenging those so-called champions of American free speech out in the open?

Kingpin didn't have the guts for that.

But now, Heisenberg did!

If the Boss hated reporters, then Bullseye hated them even more.

Not just that—Bullseye had long harbored a deep grudge against those damned paparazzi!

So, before the reporters downstairs had even recovered from their shock, Heisenberg Mansion had already dispatched over eighty cars and two hundred men.

They quickly loaded the severely injured into vehicles and sent them to the hospital.

As for those not taken away in the first wave...

They were pulled into roomier cars, then... beaten thoroughly, before being sent to the hospital anyway.

And just like that, ten minutes later, Heisenberg's ears finally had some peace.

But Heisenberg wasn't done yet.

He pressed the service bell, and Billy walked up respectfully.

Heisenberg then instructed Billy.

"Go find two PR teams—the most expensive kind. Spin today's events and throw it online. You know how to spin it, right?"

"Of course. Your image won't suffer at all. After all, you were just fighting enemies, and the battle was exceptionally intense.

You saved New York—what's a few injuries to those reporters?"

Billy finished speaking with a mysterious smile, then turned and walked away.

Heisenberg nodded in satisfaction.

See?

This was the feeling of having money, having subordinates, and having a team.

If Superman in the DC World had had a ton of cash to throw at publicity from the start, how could he have ever been hounded into a courtroom by countless anti-Superman groups?

Not thinking about that was fine, but once he did, Heisenberg, already fully immersed in his Kryptonian role, felt furious on behalf of that foolish descendant of his.

Letting a bunch of weaklings—people you've saved over and over, no less—slap handcuffs on you!

That was not something this Eastern Kryptonian could stomach!

If it were Heisenberg in that spot, well, sorry.

I don't care who's right or wrong; let's just see whose fists are harder.

You're strong, I back down; you're weak, I strike. The law of the jungle was just that.

Even if I backed down for now, revenge for ten generations of grievance was still on the table.

This Gongyangru Heisenberg didn't earn his reputation for nothing!

But honestly, looking at it from an outsider's perspective, Heisenberg didn't hold any grudge against Luthor or Batman for wanting to take down Superman.

He actually quite agreed with their way of thinking.

It was just one idea: those not of our kind are bound to have different hearts, and everyone has the right to strike them down.

If Heisenberg weren't a Kryptonian, he'd definitely be figuring out how to kill them too.

Anyway, back to Superman.

What pissed Heisenberg off the most was: why was Superman summoned to court in the first place?

Because when he faced General Zod, in the process of fighting tooth and nail to save Earth...

He was saving the damn planet, and in the process, he hurt some people.

So those people sued him.

Was being sued a big deal? Of course not!

You either keep saving people or you don't. Either way, there's no reason to pay attention to those troublemakers!

Did you hide your identity for nothing?

Did they even know who the hell you were?

If Heisenberg had been sued by those people, within three days, every lead plaintiff would have vanished.

If Heisenberg were an ordinary person injured in a fight between Superman and an enemy.

Then he'd definitely sue Superman too—as long as he was sure Superman would actually end up in the defendant's seat.

Because whether the lawsuit succeeded or not, he'd get famous. Once he walked out of that courthouse, he, Heisenberg, could dine out on having sued Superman for the rest of his life.

Go on shows, share his thoughts, become an influencer, write a book.

Wasn't that sweet?

But switching to Superman's perspective, watching the people he'd saved clamor for him to be punished.

Would he start wondering if Zod had been right to kill?

Would it have been better to let Zod rule Earth however he wanted, as long as he didn't reshape it into Krypton and strip him of his powers? Zod could breed all he liked.

If Zod could actually pull that off, once he became Earth's ruler.

Kal-El could live better as a Kryptonian resistance figurehead than he ever did as a superhero.

If Kal-El were replaced by Heisenberg, then he...

He...

Well, he'd still have to check General Zod's attitude first before deciding whether to take them out.

Heisenberg wasn't Kal-El; he had ambition.

Earth only needed one god, not an entire race.

But if Zod knelt and surrendered, Heisenberg might reluctantly accept.

After all, they were fellow (gongju) clansmen.

Forgive Heisenberg; he'd always been a shameless double-standard kind of guy.

In short, Heisenberg would never walk the same path as Kal-El.

He absolutely wouldn't lose on the battlefield of public opinion.

Spend as much money as needed, hire as many people as needed.

Whether it was rigging a presidential election or forcing capitalists to amend the Hero Act.

Heisenberg would absolutely make sure to raise a banner for himself that wouldn't be easy to attack.

As for how much hypocrisy lay buried beneath that banner...

Heisenberg thought it over—he couldn't possibly be more hypocritical than the capitalists in the United States, right?

After all, those capitalists were hypocritical beyond measure.

After the melancholy period a few days ago, Heisenberg had now seen himself clearly.

He now possessed the infinite potential of a Kryptonian, the miraculous ability to traverse the multiverse, and the power of a system that could turn any dream into reality!

With so many unique advantages stacked in his favor, if he still let himself suffer even a little, wouldn't that just make him pathetic?

As for whether he was violent, bloody, evil, or cruel.

Was that even a problem?

Just like with a single casual remark from him, the reporters were neatly taken care of.

He had ways to deal with the trouble he caused, and he had the ability to bear the consequences.

As an adult, wasn't being able to do those two things enough?

As for that saying from some hero's adoptive father—

"With great power comes great responsibility."

Wasn't that just nonsense?

It should clearly be: "With great treatment comes great responsibility!"

As for power...

Wasn't it my own business whether I had power or not?

Morality might be considered a benchmark, but everyone had their own moral code.

In Heisenberg's eyes, he wouldn't lay a hand on harmless little kids, wouldn't touch old folks with no ill intent, and certainly wouldn't attack pregnant women who posed no threat.

But note—even those types all came with fine print.

After all, the world was huge; who knew if there weren't kids and old people rotten to the core?

Even with these perennial privileged groups, Heisenberg wasn't one to offer unconditional mercy.

Let alone adults with fully formed wills.

When Heisenberg barged into the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s office, he was already prepared to be attacked.

Bullets hit his body, and he took it all without complaint.

But when agents opened fire on him, those agents should also have been prepared for him to fight back.

When Kingpin, the moment he saw Heisenberg, ordered Bullseye to test him—

Kingpin had also been ready for Heisenberg to resist.

Even Heisenberg himself, when he blew someone's head off—

Wasn't he also prepared to have his own head blown off?

It was just that no one could beat him.

Nine days since the book launched—time flies.

My habit is two chapters a day, each around 3,400 to 4,000 words.

I won't change that until the story's finished.

Since this is my first book, I'll write more free chapters for everyone—consider it a little bonus.

As for bonus chapter rules: one extra chapter per 1,000 monthly tickets, one per 5,000 collections, one per 10,000 recommendations, and one per patron.

Once it goes paid, I'll add one chapter for every 500 average subscriptions.

Other than bonus chapters, I'll basically stick to two chapters a day—it's my writing rhythm, and it keeps things smoother.

Today's a good day—it's Monday and the first day of the second lunar month, so all the rankings are reshuffling fast.

Last week, Ban Si managed to cling to the top of the new book rankings thanks to everyone's support, but this week there's no chance.

Since Ban Si's contract has been signed and received, the status should change soon—either today or tomorrow.

Then I'll drop off the new book rankings and move to the signed book rankings.

But I'm not counting on the signed book rankings—those are full of veteran authors. I'm just a little newbie who doesn't dare to dream. Don't push yourselves too hard for me either; save your tickets for the veteran authors you support to fight their battles.

Ban Si is still a newcomer after all—I absolutely have no ambition to slay the gods, right? Right?

Finally, a thousand thanks to everyone for supporting Ban Si.

As long as Ban Si isn't completely dead, I'll never let you down.

Same as always—let's keep pushing together and carve out a path on Qidian!