Chen Mo did not leave right away.
In the living room, the table had been reduced to pieces scattered across the floor. Mia sat in the corner of the couch, gnawing on half a pizza, her eyes fixed on the Vought billboard outside the window.
On the screen, A-Train was still boasting about his investigative skills.
Chen Mo watched for two seconds, then raised a hand and touched his face.
His skin rippled slightly.
In the mirror, Chen Mo's face became Marlow's, then that of an unfamiliar white thug, before finally returning to its original appearance.
Allen stood beside him. Several seconds passed before he managed to squeeze out a sentence.
"You're way too well suited to a life of crime."
Chen Mo glanced at him.
"Watch your mouth. It's called disguise."
Allen's mouth twitched.
"Normal people don't use shapeshifting as a disguise."
"Normal people don't have superpowers."
Allen shut up.
Mia spoke softly.
"Are you going to find that man?"
Chen Mo knew she meant A-Train.
He was known as the fastest man in the world, but he was actually on the decline, so he had been abusing Compound V.
Chen Mo crouched down in front of Mia.
"I'm not going to fight him head-on. At least not yet."
Mia looked up.
"He's fast."
"I know."
Chen Mo smiled, his tone casual.
A-Train was no street thug, nor was he one of Marlow's enhanced men who had been injected with defective drugs.
He was also a T1-level character in the story, someone who had joined The Seven on the strength of his abilities.
Chen Mo had grown stronger now. His armor could withstand gunfire, his blades could easily pierce a superhuman's weak points, and he was faster than most cars.
But if he wanted to take on A-Train,
those stats still weren't quite enough. He could get through his defenses without a problem, and his strength could match A-Train's, but his speed fell far too short.
Chen Mo patted Mia on the head.
"Don't worry. I'm just going to check things out today. There won't be a fight."
Allen breathed a sigh of relief too.
"With your disguise ability, it shouldn't be much of a problem if you're just taking a look."
Chen Mo stood up. Black-and-red sinews writhed beneath his skin as he quickly transformed into a white man.
The bridge of his nose rose, his eye sockets deepened, his skin turned pale, and his hair lightened.
A few seconds later, an unremarkable middle-aged white man appeared in the mirror.
The kind of face people would forget after a single glance in a crowd.
Chen Mo nodded in satisfaction.
"This face is good for getting things done."
Allen held it in for a long moment.
"He looks like my old math teacher."
"Even better. Nobody wants to look at their math teacher twice."
Chen Mo walked to the door, thought for a moment, then turned and said,
"You two stay here and lock the door. If anyone knocks, don't open it."
Allen nodded at once.
"What if it's the police?"
"Especially not for them."
"What about Vought's people?"
"Play dead."
Allen pushed up his glasses, his expression utterly serious.
"What if it's the landlord?"
Chen Mo fell silent for half a second.
"Blame me for breaking the table first. Don't let him keep the deposit."
Allen looked at the broken table, and his expression immediately turned pained.
The door closed.
Chen Mo went downstairs and blended into the early-morning crowd on the street.
New York never lacked excitement.
There had just been a shootout at the docks last night, and this morning the nearby streets were already packed with reporters, police cars, onlookers, and a crowd holding up phones, practically trying to shove them past the police tape.
Chen Mo stood at the back of the crowd and looked up at the entrance to the Gray Whale Parking Lot.
Three layers of police tape had been put up.
Police officers rushed around like headless chickens, carrying evidence in and out.
There were still traces of blood on the ground that had not been cleaned up.
The reporters talked nonstop into their cameras, each sounding graver than the last, though their faces clearly said they had found a story that would draw traffic.
Chen Mo looked around.
It didn't look much like an investigation. It looked more like a show.
A police chief frowned in front of the reporters, holding a folder without turning a page for ages.
Several officers posed beside the entrance, their expressions as solemn as those of models in an advertisement.
Even more ridiculous was A-Train.
He wore his classic suit and goggles and was striking poses for the cameras.
A crowd of reporters surrounded him, camera flashes going off like they were free.
A-Train stood in front of the police tape, rested a hand on an officer's shoulder, and gave the cameras a thumbs-up.
Chen Mo nearly laughed out loud.
"Seriously? Posing for photos at the crime scene?"
A-Train said he had come to investigate.
But he didn't so much as glance at the parking lot.
A Vought PR staffer handed him a script.
A-Train gave it a quick look, then immediately began speaking to the cameras.
"A terrible crime took place here last night. But citizens, don't worry. If you're in danger, just call out for A-Train! I'll be there as fast as I can to protect everyone."
Chen Mo stood in the crowd, the corners of his mouth rising higher and higher.
Protecting everyone as fast as possible wasn't wrong.
Protecting everyone from the truth was still protection.
A reporter raised a hand.
"Can you tell us what progress has been made in the investigation?"
A-Train's smile never wavered.
"The investigation is ongoing, and I can't reveal too much. But trust me, no one can escape me."
Chen Mo watched him, his gaze sharpening slightly.
In his blacklight vision, A-Train's body turned transparent.
His body gave off intense life heat.
His muscle density, heart rate, and nerve response were all far beyond those of an ordinary person.
His legs and heart in particular were considerably stronger than the rest of his body.
More importantly, even from this distance, Chen Mo could still smell a faint trace of Compound V.
It was very fresh. He had just taken some before coming here.
Chen Mo pressed the tip of his tongue against his back teeth.
"No wonder he's so hyped. He just got high."
A-Train seemed to sense something. He jerked his head around and swept his gaze over the crowd.
Chen Mo was amused.
This guy did have some skills.
The people around him were still screaming and taking photos.
But Chen Mo had already lowered his head and slipped to the side, using a fat middle-aged woman as cover as he retreated into the crowd.
A-Train looked over, but all he saw was a sea of faces holding up phones.
Strange. What was that chilling feeling just now?
A-Train frowned.
The Vought PR staffer immediately came over.
"What's wrong?"
A-Train looked away, a smile returning to his face.
"Nothing."
Chen Mo had already gone around to the street corner. Leaning against a newsstand, he pondered what to do next.
"Since he's purely here to put on a show, there doesn't seem to be any need to tangle with him yet."
There was no need to confront him head-on now.
A-Train had speed, Vought had surveillance, and the police had the scene.
What Chen Mo lacked most now wasn't fighting power, but an identity.
If he wanted to get into the superhuman club, he couldn't go wandering around with the face of an Asian suspect.
And he certainly couldn't use Marlow.
Marlow had died for good last night. Using his face would be asking for trouble.
He needed to find a Vought employee.
Preferably someone whose position was neither too high nor too low, who could enter and leave the scene without attracting attention.
Chen Mo's gaze swept over the Vought team along the street.
They wore matching dark suits, ID badges, and earpieces as they moved around A-Train and the scene.
There probably weren't any managers among the people working on the front line like this.
A newcomer handling logistics would be the best fit.
Chen Mo picked out a young man who was making coffee.
He was in his twenties, blond, and his badge identified him as an assistant in the Vought Public Affairs Department.
The man jogged all the way over to deliver coffee to A-Train's group.
The PR supervisor berated him a couple of times, and he hurriedly nodded and bowed.
"A perfect target. I'll borrow your identity, kid."
Chen Mo followed him.
After delivering the coffee, the blond assistant turned and headed toward the temporary interview van.
When he reached the mouth of an alley, his phone rang.
He answered it, and after listening for a moment, a weary, irritated expression immediately appeared on his face.
"Mom, I'm working. Yes, I know the rent went up again. Please stop. I'm working overtime tonight, and I'm still out in the field. Can I call you back later?"
The blond assistant hung up and was just about to turn toward the temporary restroom beside the interview van.
A hand landed on his shoulder from behind.
"Hey, buddy, can I ask you for directions?"
The blond assistant turned around impatiently.
"I don't have time..."
Before he could finish, everything went black.
Chen Mo caught him as though he were helping a coworker with low blood sugar, then casually dragged him into a utility room nearby.
Two minutes later.
The blond assistant was tied up in a corner with a rag stuffed in his mouth.
Chen Mo stood in front of a small mirror, the skin on his face beginning to change.
Blond hair, light-colored eyes, and dark circles of fatigue.
He put on the ID badge and slipped into the suit.
Chen Mo forced a weary smile at the mirror.
"Very good."
Outside, A-Train was still posing for a bank of cameras.
Holding a stack of documents, Chen Mo walked casually past the Vought staff.
No one suspected a thing.
No one gave him a second glance.
That was the advantage of a disguise.
All that fighting and killing was too crude.
Sometimes, putting on a suit and wearing a name badge worked better than a black blade.
Chen Mo looked up at A-Train in the distance.
A-Train was waving at the camera, smiling with confidence.
Chen Mo smiled too.
"Take your time investigating."
"Tonight, I'll go to the club first and check out the menu."