Alex's All

The night was dark, the soft glow of the moon illuminating the deep blue sky. The night was clear, the deep blue enchanting.

Central City, Bay Area.

The Bay Area was a factory district, a warehouse district, neither old nor new. Once, plastic toy factories, plush toy factories, mold factories, and various small trinket processing plants were located here.

With the reform of Central City's government planning and the opening of preferential policies from Keystone City, a large number of factories and commercial activities moved to Keystone City. The Bay Area, which was once an industrial zone, was now precariously balanced. Now, only small factories were barely surviving, most of the warehouses had been converted from factories, and a large number of unemployed people were parading on the streets, protesting the city government, bringing a sense of desolation and chaos to the area.

Looking down from the clear night sky, the half-dark, half-lit streetlights of the Bay Area seemed to symbolize the past glory and fervent praise of Central City's industry.

Alex lowered his body, the strong wind ahead making his jacket flutter and rustle. His eyes, hidden within his black motorcycle helmet, were cold as he stared at the road ahead, lost in thought. Riding a silver-black beast of speed, its headlights were like piercing lights. Even with the streetlights shining, his headlights still cast circular beams on the ground as he sped away.

His figure and the motorcycle merged into one, weaving through the mostly unlit roads of the Bay Area, turning and twisting like lightning, roaring past.

In the Bay Area, at factory building number 102, located in a remote area, almost on the outskirts, a black elderly man in a blue security booth, wearing reading glasses, looked frail. His eyes were somewhat vacant as he stared at the Central City Daily newspaper.

Beep...

His cheap, brand-new watch made a strange sound.

Though old, his hearing was surprisingly sharp. Hearing the sound, he looked up from the newspaper. His vacant gaze seemed to find something to do, a spark of life returning. He pressed a button next to his watch.

Then, the warehouse door slowly rose. It was dark and empty inside, with only moonlight streaming through the windows, illuminating a central steel plate that was slowly unfolding, revealing the entrance to a dark, cave-like passage.

After finishing, the black elderly man looked up at the dark front. Before he could be seen, a low engine sound reached his ears.

Immediately, lights piercing the darkness appeared from within, accompanied by a low rumbling sound. Alex, riding the Lightning Motorcycle, the silver-black beast of speed, appeared in the distance before the old man.

The old man's eyes narrowed slightly. In just a few blinks, he could hear the low rumbling sound up close. A gust of wind blew the black wrinkles on his face wildly, and he squinted his eyes, feeling the Lightning Motorcycle, which had merged with Alex, disappear into the warehouse door.

Alex rode the Lightning Motorcycle, instantly plunging straight into the warehouse door. He was like a bolt of lightning, a gust of wind, a galloping steed, entering the warehouse door. The front of the motorcycle leaped up, jumping into the dark opening.

As Alex arrived, the walls of the dark opening began to open with a 'kaka' sound, emitting white lights. Accompanied by his technologically advanced beast of speed, he drove straight into the passage. The walls of the entire passage slowly lit up with white light, illuminating his way and escorting him forward.

Click

All the lights suddenly turned on.

At the end was a vast space. A large supercomputer was located in a corner, powering up and awaiting commands.

Not far away, the white walls were hung with various functional firearms and tools, including grappling hook guns, cable launchers, shurikens, throwing knives, plastic explosives, nerve gas, batarangs, smoke bombs, fingerprint kits, cutters, harpoon guns, breathing apparatus, and a series of other fully functional equipment, similar to Batman's.

Of course, compared to Batman, Alex did not shy away from killing and had also modified more powerful firearms.

On a nearby mannequin, Alex's black superhero trench coat, gloves, and shoes, prepared for the future, were made of Kevlar material, titanium metal, and lightweight raw materials. They were effective against bullets, explosions, impacts, cuts, and stabs, as well as fire-resistant and insulated. The entire set of black equipment was made with extremely meticulous and expensive materials.

In Alex's future plans, one item was to become a superhero and to illegally profit for himself.

This was the base Alex had built for himself. All the equipment here was made by his own hands, using all the funds he had earned over the years.

Alex drove the Lightning Motorcycle and parked it on the left side of the entrance. There were two other motorcycles in the other parking spots, one all silver and one all black, all modified by himself, each with different functions.

He was not like Batman, who possessed billions in wealth, with his Batmobile, Batplane, Batcycle, Batboat, Batjet, Batcopter, Bat-sub, Bat-ski, and all of Batman's land, water, and air vehicles.

Just building this base had cost Alex his entire fortune of seventeen million dollars, which was already his absolute best effort.

This was Alex's everything, including the three gangs he controlled in the lower city and his membership in the First Brotherhood of Central City. This was Alex's entirety, both tangible and intangible.

Of course, all of this was for himself, not to do anything as a superhero, but to plan for his own future.

He didn't want to become a supervillain, nor did he want to be targeted by superheroes. He could only become an independent superhero for himself, seeking benefits.

"Sir, Jack left a message."

Mechanical sounds echoed in the white hall.

This was not artificial intelligence. Although Alex had the ability to infiltrate the Pentagon undetected in computer aspects, he had not yet invented artificial intelligence. He had planned to create artificial intelligence with several geniuses, but due to some events, it was abandoned. This was a nearly completed artificial intelligence, considered a supercomputer.

"Play the message."

Alex took off his motorcycle helmet and placed it on the Lightning Motorcycle. He walked to a nearby glasses stand, picked up a pair of glasses identical to the previous ones, put them on, inserted his fingers into his hair, and brushed his forehead hair upwards. He walked directly to his supercomputer.

"Yo yo yo... Three years, then another three years, I've gone from a small leader to a gang boss. When are you going to pay me back..."

"Hey... Did you forget? No, you can't forget, yo yo yo... Our agreement, my little brother is waiting..."

"Heh heh... Yo... I want to go home... I miss my old mother at home..."

An incoherent string of heh heh heh yo yo yo, completely devoid of any hip-hop style, was played.

"Dial Jack for me." Alex's face was expressionless. He was very familiar with Jack's style. He was so cheeky, he deserved a beating, breaking two ribs would suffice.

In a moment, the supercomputer directly connected Alex to Jack's phone.

"Yo... Yo..."

"If you keep saying 'yo', I'll knock your teeth out."

"Okay, boss."

"Notify your people in that district to find someone for me, Danton Black. Inform me if you have any news, but don't alert him, just report to me."

"Okay, boss... But when can I stop being an undercover agent?"

"I'm so scared. The boss of the Severed Hand Gang, who ruled over a dozen streets, died recently. For some reason today, so many people are supporting me! I've already taken over as the gang boss."

"Alex, hurry up and take over this gang."

"They're about to have a shootout with the Crimson Angels, the third largest gang in the lower city. They're so excited, they bought over a dozen assault rifles. I can't stop them. What if they win again?"

"I'm so panicked, my power as gang boss is growing stronger and stronger."

Alex remained silent.