Without much hesitation, Solomon dispelled his psychic shielding, walked straight up, and raised a hand to knock on little Pietro's front door.
"Knock, knock, knock."
A few seconds later, the door opened.
A woman wearing an apron appeared behind it. Though her face bore traces of hardship, they could not conceal her beauty.
She was Pietro's mother, Magda.
"Who are you looking for?"
Solomon dispensed with pleasantries and got straight to the point:
"Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm here on behalf of Vought International. More precisely, I'm here for the little mutant playing in your yard."
At those words, the air around them seemed to drop to freezing.
Magda's pupils abruptly contracted, and she bristled like a lioness whose most sensitive spot had been touched.
"Utter nonsense!"
She lowered her voice, her words fierce.
"My child is perfectly normal. He's just a little hyperactive! There are no mutant freaks here, and Vought isn't welcome, either. Leave my property immediately, or I'll call the police and have them deal with you!"
As she spoke, she shoved hard, trying to slam the door in Solomon's face.
However, the door abruptly stopped just a centimeter from the tip of Solomon's nose.
No matter how hard Magda pushed, her face flushed with exertion, the door remained utterly motionless, as though welded into space.
Solomon's expression did not change. He had not even taken his hands out of his pockets.
"Have the police arrest me? That wouldn't be a wise choice."
His tone calm, Solomon unhurriedly took a photograph he had prepared from inside his jacket, held it lightly between his fingertips, and presented it before the woman's eyes.
"If you truly love your child, you should look at this first."
Magda's furious gaze instinctively swept over the photograph, and in that instant, she felt as