Social Experiment

In a world where Superheroes did not seem all that rare, how could one hide their special abilities while continuing to grow stronger?

That required starting with the origins of Superheroes.

The top-tier powerhouses could basically be divided into three categories—technology, mutation, and magic.

Technology was the primary productive force, and among the factors that triggered mutations, technology-driven causes accounted for more than half.

And in the Marvel world, mysticism represented by magic was basically just overpowered technology that had yet to be deciphered.

So, to conceal the identity of a mystic spellcaster, there was no better cover than being a scientist.

At the very least, if he caused some major commotion, it would greatly reduce the chances of drawing the attention of certain troublesome people.

When scientists in the Marvel world caused a major stir, wasn't that just standard procedure?

Take Bruce Banner, for example. He created a big guy like the Hulk. Did Kamar-Taj come looking for him, or did Asgard?

Well, as for why he needed to hide...

Hadn't he heard that max level was only the beginning?

This world's waters ran deep. If he did not keep his head down and develop quietly, did he want some Sorcerer Supreme to erase him straight from the timeline?

In short, after six years of quietly building himself up and earning a doctorate in biology, Oaks finally had some confidence that he could secure an opportunity to survive until the end in this seemingly perilous world.

But he soon declined the offer to remain at the university and left. His doctorate was merely a cover identity; he had no intention of spending too much effort on it.

Otherwise, he would not have chosen Cornell, the university closest to home.

Over those six years, Oaks's mastery of Nature Force and his studies had advanced side by side, complementing each other.

Indeed, to some extent, magic and science had things in common.

His orange tabby form was the ground-travel form Oaks had chosen. It could reach most places in the city without attracting any attention.

And it even came with a bonus to escape speed.

The orange tabby ran and leaped deftly through the streets and alleys. Oaks's destination was the "social experiment" he had poured every last penny into after receiving his doctorate—

He had rented a large abandoned factory in Brooklyn's cheapest slum district and transformed it into an Ecological Test Site.

Little Rainforest.

This was no ordinary ecological park. Within its towering walls grew special magical plants developed by Oaks.

As for why it was called a "social experiment"—

"Line up! Get the fuck in line! Take your share and get the hell out!"

At the entrance to Little Rainforest, a fierce-looking Latino brute waved the baseball bat in his right hand while directing several Black men to maintain order.

"Anyone who dares cut in line or start grabbing shit, your corpse will be hanging from the basketball court fence the next day! I guarantee it!"

His left lower leg was gone, so he had to support himself with a single crutch in his left hand. Yet the slum dwellers present treated him with great respect.

This was Brooklyn's poorest area, with Black and Latino people making up most of its population.

It was filthy and dilapidated, rife with violence and crime, practically a different world from the western and southern areas only a few blocks away.

It was even less comparable to bustling Manhattan.

Yet here at Little Rainforest, the slum dwellers could actually line up, more or less, under the supervision of several people maintaining order, then collect items from stalls run by a group of burly Black and Latino men.

While waiting in line, their faces were full of urgency and longing. Once they received their things, their faces lit up with joy.

That was because these were premium fresh fruits, comparable in quality to those sold at Manhattan's finest fruit shops. Most of them survived on welfare and would ordinarily never have the chance to enjoy such things.

Delicious, nutritious, and free.

Rumor had it that some mysterious big shot had provided this benefit for the most disadvantaged among the slum dwellers.

There was not much, but to them, it was already immensely precious.

This benefit was limited to people unable to live independently, such as the elderly, children, the sick, and the disabled, and the screening process was strict.

If anyone tried to slip through the cracks, there was little they could do about the elderly or children, but this group of burly men would make sure the rest genuinely became sick or disabled.

If they went too far, there might not be any corpses hanging from the basketball court fence, but Little Rainforest's plants would grow even more luxuriantly.

In a place like this, having a few people disappear—people who probably did not even have official records—was perfectly normal.

A pair of emerald-green feline eyes watched the crowd outside Little Rainforest coldly.

"Hmph... Pretty clever. They install cameras in the surrounding blocks, and someone smashes every last one. Even the police can't be bothered to deal with it anymore."

Padding along on cat paws, Oaks slipped lightly through a small gap in the wall and carefully inspected his test site.

The main purpose of this mysterious "social experiment" was to study the effects of magical plants on ordinary people.

This included environmental effects, the effects of consuming their fruit, and the test site's self-defense capabilities.

Oaks was not some anti-human lunatic. The only reason he conducted this experiment here was simply because...

Not long after he had transmigrated here, Oaks had once come to this area and been kidnapped by several vicious slum dwellers.

Not only had they wanted to sell the handsome Oaks, but before that, they had also wanted to... ahem.

In short, Oaks had shown them no mercy that time. The rage of two lifetimes had transformed into primal savagery and been vented in full that day.

Afterward, the nearby police station had been on edge for quite some time, searching everywhere for a large wild beast.

And Oaks's view of these slum dwellers had changed from indifference to coldness.

Since things had already started badly, he might as well stop feeling burdened by it.

He had not intended to take revenge on everyone in the slums. At first, he had merely picked out several batches of drug-addicted criminals, starved them for a few days, and thrown them inside for experiments.

But unexpectedly, with only a little guidance from him, the strange phenomenon of Little Rainforest had miraculously continued.

The first criminal he had thrown in was the Latino brute now maintaining order, while those helping preserve order were from the subsequent batches.

Whether they believed it was a gift from God or a blessing from Mother Earth...

In any case, unless necessary, Oaks would not make contact with them for now. With his methods, they would never trace any connection between him and this place.

Having finished his inspection and gathered new data, Oaks was fairly satisfied.

But just as he was preparing to leave, a burst of commotion outside caught his attention.

Normally, it was only natural for a place like this to be chaotic, but amid the screams and English pleas for mercy spoken with heavy accents, he also heard several remarkably defiant lines...

"Hmph, so you can watch excitement back home but not abroad? Fine, if I'm not allowed to watch, so be it—but laying hands on me is truly beneath civilized conduct!"

"Ah! My phone... Never mind. It was a Chinese model anyway, and it had no signal here. I was going to replace it regardless, so consider it a contribution toward your coffins!"

"Every time I wake up these past few days, it feels like I can't breathe, yet my body remains as healthy as ever. After thinking it over, it must be the air. Now that I see you lot in it, no wonder the air is so foul!"

"Ah! Don't hit my face!"

Cold sweat broke out across Oaks's round little head.

That was right. Those highly distinctive words had been spoken in Chinese.

Leaping onto the railing, Oaks saw a young Chinese man wearing black-rimmed glasses being carried out and thrown into the street by two burly Black men.

The young man had only just let out a groan when a Nokia phone flew out after him and struck him squarely on the nose.

With a miserable scream, tears streaming down his face, the young man collapsed. Struggling, he shouted in English the piece of advice he had seen most often on forums before going abroad—

"Don't call an ambulance!"