As we walked toward the nearest highway, we noticed a helicopter circling the sky, seemingly searching for something. I assumed it was Hydra. Although with my new subordinates I had nothing to fear from ordinary humans, engaging in a fight in an empty area would be a waste. How could I sow fear and chaos in the middle of nowhere? After weighing the pros and cons, I decided to move away in a mostly intact Jeep we had found after destroying the base. Following a trail for about 20 minutes, we finally reached the highway.
We drove along the road until we came across a gas station. Lisa "kindly" took control of some people to ask for directions and found out we were in Atlantic City, New Jersey. We weren't far from our destination—about two and a half hours away from New York. We stopped by a nearby store, where everyone, in an act of charity, told us to take whatever we wanted for free. Even the gas was on the house. All thanks to Lisa and her charming words. Honestly, it would have been more challenging without her here.
This was going to be my first trip after being trapped. The fresh air felt amazing, but this was just the beginning. Bigger worlds awaited me. I instructed my subordinates to wake me up once we arrived. Although I'm far from being a normal human, my body has been under immense pressure since I transmigrated. Rest is essential, after all. Who knows when I'll get to rest like this again?
[New York, Manhattan District – 1:00 PM]
I was woken by Lisa's constant nudging, letting me know we had arrived. My sleepiness vanished immediately—this was going to be our debut in the big leagues. While I would love to cause some destruction in a house, that wouldn't be as profitable if I were to expose myself. It had to be something big. Starting with a few buildings seemed fitting. I wondered who would try to stop us. The excitement coursing through me was electrifying.
But first, we needed new clothes. We looked like criminals. I instructed Goliath to find the nearest clothing store. As we drove through the city, we marveled at the society we would never be part of. As a transmigrant, I knew humans and mutants could never coexist. One side had to perish for true peace to be achieved. And since I was now a mutant, I had no intention of betting on the 50% chance of survival when Thanos eventually arrives.
Strength was the only thing that mattered. Only by being strong would I have a voice in this world and the ones beyond.
When we arrived, it was clear this was a place ordinary people couldn't afford. I shrugged it off and stepped inside.
Ritzer: "Goliath, you picked a fancy place. Looks like capitalists are going to suffer today. [chuckles lightly]"
Goliath: "We're supposed to look elegant today, aren't we, boss?"
Max: "Don't talk as if your clothes will survive your transformation, Goliath. Haha!"
Leo: "Just make sure not to end your transformation in front of us, Goliath. I don't want to see a buff guy naked. [snickers]"
Lisa: "Come on, don't be mean to Goliath. He might save your butts later. [giggles]"
Ritzer: "Alright, relax. Pick whatever you want. They'll give it to us for free, right, Lisa?"
Lisa: "Hehe, I'll take care of that, boss. Don't worry."
All: "[Cheers]"
While the others picked casual clothes, I headed to the suits section. Don't judge me—I used to wear suits often in my previous life, even if I rarely went out. And now that I look good, they suit me even better. I'll admit, though, that the real reason I want to wear a suit while wreaking havoc is simple: imagine how cool I'd look, elegantly dressed while unleashing devastating energy on everyone. Elegant yet dangerous—it's my personal touch.
Just as I was browsing, a sales assistant approached me.
Sales Assistant: "Excuse me, young man. You shouldn't touch those suits if you can't afford them. Put them back before you dirty them."
The assistant's loud tone didn't go unnoticed. The wealthy patrons around us said nothing, but their sneering and disdainful looks spoke volumes. Memories from my past resurfaced—shame, hopelessness, helplessness, resentment. That overwhelming feeling of being looked down on. My rage boiled over.
I approached the assistant, grabbed him by the neck, and slammed him into the ground repeatedly. When I finally came to my senses, the man was nothing more than a bloody mess.
Lisa's voice snapped me out of it, and the flashbacks faded. I looked around. The other customers were frozen in place, their gazes unfocused. I assumed Lisa had taken care of them. Dropping what remained of the assistant, I brushed myself off and told Lisa it was a fleeting moment of impulsiveness. I gestured for everyone to hurry and pick their clothes so we could leave before someone discovered the body.
Fortunately, my suits remained spotless. Reflecting on what had happened, I realized my PTSD had clouded my rationality again. I couldn't let that happen—it would be a death sentence here. Shaking my head, I left the store with my subordinates, ready for what came next.