Night in New York.
Soldier Boy returned in high spirits, thoroughly pleased with himself.
Sixteen!
In a single afternoon, he had knocked on no fewer than sixteen haters' doors!
The stunned looks on their faces when they saw him had been absolutely hilarious!
"Tsk, it does cost a bit, though," Soldier Boy remarked.
He wasn't some utterly irredeemable demon. He just had a bit of a temper, so he decided how hard to hit his haters based on how badly they had insulted him and how apologetic they were.
The worst cases lost a few teeth, others ended up with bruised and swollen faces, and those who got off lightly suffered some scrapes and a few bruises...
Still, every person he beat up received enough money to have their injuries treated at a hospital, with a little left over.
After all, there was a "kill threshold" here, and medical care was extremely expensive. Without that money, these morons could easily end up falling below it.
Soldier Boy pulled a bottle of fine liquor from the liquor cabinet and drank deeply.
I wonder how Ryan's doing now, Soldier Boy thought as he began looking for the satellite phone.
Come to think of it, given Ryan's current abilities, the Amazon Rainforest was no longer enough to draw out more of his potential.
His overpowered level-six Heat Vision was enough to let him go wherever he pleased in the world. Perhaps this training trip could end early.
Two minutes later, he found the satellite phone in the drawer beneath the coffee table and, after a few simple steps, placed the call.
Elsewhere, Black Noir darted through the rainforest like a phantom before finally stopping in a clearing.
Little Beaver reminded him beside his ear, "We're here, Black Noir. This is the spot."
Black