The Setup

The basement was brightly lit, its glass display cases filled with all manner of cold steel equipment.

The system's furious voice in Alex's ear gradually grew quieter. Before long, he could no longer hear it at all. Perhaps it had cursed itself out of power.

Alex ignored its insults and took out a small black device, half the size of a finger and resembling a USB drive, from one of the display cases filled with strange high-tech items.

A Digital Projection Mask.

It was like Harry's device from the third season of The Flash—press it once, and it projected a different face over the wearer's original appearance.

Though it could be worn around the neck and maintain a disguise, this little thing was far from complete or perfect.

Moving too quickly or too slowly, even turning one's head at the wrong speed, could make the projection drop frames and produce pixelated blocks. It could easily blur the face, make the projection flicker like electromagnetic interference, create grids, and cause a whole series of problems that might expose him. At best, it could barely help Alex disguise himself as Martin Stein.

Alex also needed to dye his hair white, use the Bone Shrinking Technique to reduce the spacing between his bones and match Martin Stein's height, pad out a slight middle-aged belly, and pair all that with the Digital Projection Mask. The skin on his hands needed makeup to give it an elderly appearance. His body, spine, bearing, and everything else had to be adjusted as well. In the end, he needed to become a refined, highly knowledgeable nuclear physicist past the age of fifty.

"Skynet, collect every video of Martin Stein, create a three-dimensional image, build a dynamic model, and once it is complete, download the projection into the Digital Projection Mask."

After issuing the command to Skynet, Alex opened another program and began working at his desk, his fingers flying across the keyboard in a blur.

He had quite a few things to do. Aside from impersonating the missing Martin Stein and memorizing Martin Stein's movements, behavior, and habits, he also had to create a specialized Sonar Weapon based on Danton Black's physical examination reports and brainwave reports.

It might not directly destroy Danton Black, but within a certain range, it could disrupt his original brainwave frequency, preventing him from controlling his duplicates through thought and stripping him of that ability.

After the pursuit through Lower City and calculations based on the hexagonal monitoring range, Alex estimated that the distance between The Multiplicity's original body and his duplicates was around five kilometers. That distance was somewhat large, but it was not enough to trouble Alex. He would choose a suitable place and make The Multiplicity appear willingly.

In addition, Alex needed to turn the greater part of the Controlled Nuclear Fusion information in his mind into a report and send it to Central City's authoritative science journals.

The current time in the DC world was 2007. Technology was visibly advancing with each passing day, but powerful, controllable, non-polluting clean energy like Controlled Nuclear Fusion had not yet even taken shape, nor had alien technology begun significantly influencing Earth.

Therefore, the greater part of the Controlled Nuclear Fusion material in Alex's mind could be said to point out a path for humanity's future nuclear fusion research. Once published in Central City, the sensation it would cause was easy to imagine.

Alex's plan was simple: use Martin Stein to lure out The Multiplicity. Danton Black would never be willing to see someone who had once opposed him become a world-famous great man, possessing more wealth than he did and achieving both fame and success.

He himself had become a wanted criminal, rejected by society, unable to appear openly or enjoy the superior material comforts that should have been his. Meanwhile, Martin Stein, who had once opposed him, would achieve fame and success, receive the praise of the world, possess endless wealth, and enjoy all the material comforts Danton Black could only long for. Such an enormous disparity was enough to drive a person mad with jealousy. How could Danton Black possibly endure it?

Alex understood Danton Black even better than Danton Black understood himself.

Danton Black was the typical sort: intensely jealous, arrogantly self-important, eager to enjoy every good thing in the world, and somewhat capable, yet not capable enough to match the life he wanted. He envied it in his heart but lacked the ability to obtain it. Otherwise, he would not have stolen Stagg Industries' experimental equipment to sell for money, only to be discovered and reported by Martin Stein.

The money he earned by stealing and reselling the equipment had all been squandered on food, drink, women, gambling, and extravagance. He had even accumulated considerable debt because of it. Only after he could no longer repay it, was fired by Stagg Industries, and reached the end of the road did he use his ability to rob jewelry.

Alex had studied Danton Black deeply enough to understand every aspect of his psychological state and behavioral patterns.

When Danton Black first used his ability to commit jewelry robbery, he had actually been terrified. The fact that he left thirty million dollars' worth of jewelry in a hotel showed that he was filled with fear and unease. Deep down, he resisted accepting that jewelry; he felt more afraid than excited.

It had been too outrageous. Thirty million dollars had clouded his mind and made him involuntarily anxious and fearful about his future.

But when Al Swan pointed a gun at him on the spot, it directly pushed him through the psychological transformation of a criminal and completed his metamorphosis. It was easy to imagine that in the future, with superpowers in hand, he would see himself as superior to others and become even more reckless, causing harm without any restraint.

Alex had seen it clearly, and his guess had been correct.

Just as Alex was buried in work in the basement, continuously preparing the report and sending the Controlled Nuclear Fusion material to major scientific journals, gradually building Martin Stein's reputation, his phone rang.

"Alex, The Multiplicity has committed another crime."

"He robbed two gun stores on High Mountain Street in succession. Both stores were completely cleaned out."

"The police exchanged fire with him. Seven people died!"

"He now has enough firearms to arm a team of more than a hundred people, especially when combined with his ability."

"Alex, I can't imagine it. By himself, he's already a terrorist team. Even counterterrorism units would struggle to deal with him."

"Perhaps only that guy in red and blue who flies through the sky, with his bulletproof body of steel, could catch him!"

Director Mark gave a bitter laugh. The Multiplicity was simply too dangerous.

Especially in a city—if he created more than a hundred duplicates, each carrying an automatic rifle, in a densely populated urban area, it would be a disaster. A terrorist team could be formed in the shortest possible time.

How terrifying was that? To put it into perspective, there had once been five terrorists somewhere armed with automatic rifles, firing freely. In just a few minutes, they killed fifty people. Guns killed far faster than people imagined.

And that was only five people. With more than a hundred duplicates and more than a hundred firearms, Director Mark did not even dare imagine how horrific the scene would be.

Most importantly, there was no way to capture him. Even if every duplicate at the scene was eliminated, they would not know where his original body was. He would still remain free and alive.

The next time he appeared, he would bring another terrorist team with him.

Although Director Mark had already raised his estimate of The Multiplicity's danger by several degrees in his imagination, when The Multiplicity robbed firearms and armed a hundred-man terrorist team, he realized that he had still underestimated these superpowered individuals.

Director Mark wanted to curse his head off. He deeply resented Al Swan now. Why steal the credit? If Alex had punched The Multiplicity to death, none of this would have happened! That damned guy just had to interfere, deliberately intercepting the information to show off. Fuck!

This is the correct way to use his power!

A strange glint flashed through Alex's eyes. This was not a comic. In comics, The Multiplicity used his fists, created countless duplicates, and charged into hand-to-hand combat, unable to kill even one person after fighting for ages.

Reality really was not a comic!

The Multiplicity's superpower was practically perfect when combined with firearms. Unless someone had Superman's absolute invulnerability and overwhelming strength, as long as they still feared guns, The Multiplicity feared almost no one.

Even Alex would be turned into a honeycomb if he carelessly allowed himself to be surrounded by gun-wielding duplicates.

More importantly, his duplicates could die without consequence. He might even strap bombs to them and turn them into human bombs. If someone fought him head-on, they truly might not be able to win.

"Mark, I'm almost ready. I need some manpower to await my orders."

"Alright, I'll arrange it immediately!"