After his call with Locki—known to most as "Police"—Ron was heading to bed when a notification pinged on his phone. An email.
Subject: Invitation
From: Bruce W.
> Dear Ron,
We are holding a gathering this Saturday. All major and high-ranking individuals are invited.
Please honor us with your presence and join us for dinner.
Location: XXXX, XXXX
– Bruce W.
Ron read it twice. Bruce W.—one of the richest men in the world. Probably, Ron thought, he'd found out about him through Carter's department. And Saturday… that was the day after tomorrow.
---
Saturday
The mansion was a spectacle. Marble floors gleamed under the chandeliers, and the hum of conversations carried the weight of power—politicians, generals, and innovators all mingling. Ron passed familiar faces: Captain White, head of Carter's department; Mr. Jake, the engineer behind futuristic tanks and weaponry; and Mr. Bryan, a world-renowned healer.
Ron took a drink, scanning the room, when he noticed a large man in a white shirt and black pants lurking in the shadows. His face was hidden, enigmatic.
Before Ron could examine him further, a voice called out.
"Welcome—if it isn't Sir Ron."
He turned. Bruce W. himself, charisma practically radiating from him, smiled warmly. Carter and Locki were behind Ron, teasing him quietly about finally falling in love.
"Welcome, Mr. Carter and Mr. Locki. Thank you for gracing us," Bruce said, gesturing to them.
Ron returned the greeting, shaking Bruce's hand.
"I see Carter and Locki often," Bruce continued, "but I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Ron. One of the youngest among the world's richest."
Ron chuckled. "No, no. It's an honor to be here. Can you show me around?"
"Of course." Bruce led him through the mansion, showcasing advanced tech: solar simulators converting sunlight into energy, experimental defense systems, and more. He hinted at investments, but Ron told him he would need time to consider.
As the party wound down, they exchanged contacts, and Ron and Carter decided to stay in town a few days. That night, Ron stood on the hotel balcony, admiring the cityscape—until movement caught his eye.
In an alley below, a gang of criminals beat a man mercilessly.
Ron covered his face with his skull-mouth mask, teleported silently, and landed before them.
"Who the hell are you?" one demanded. "You his sidekick?"
Before Ron could respond, a shadow fell from above. A man, dressed like a superhero, leapt down with a powerful kick. Ron dodged, but one thug wasn't so lucky, flying unconscious into a wall. Panic erupted, and the rest fled.
The superhero turned to Ron and attacked. Every movement screamed skill and training—he was a martial arts genius. Ron, relying on his honed reflexes and combat training, met him blow for blow. No powers—just raw skill.
They circled, trading hits, until one final strike: CRACK! Their fists collided, masks falling off.
The man froze.
"Mr. Ron?"
Ron stared back, equally shocked.
"Mr. Bruce?"
The rumors were true. Bruce W., the untouchable figure of Hero Town, was the city's secret protector.
"I didn't expect you to be this strong," Bruce said. "Come with me."
---
To Bruce's Secret Base
They arrived at an abandoned skyscraper. Bruce pressed the third bell. A click, a sliding passage revealed itself, and they descended into a hidden underground base. Screens, supercomputers, experimental weapons—tech Ron had never seen. A gym with adjustable gravity, a training arena, and chambers filled with futuristic tools.
Bruce handed Ron a cup of tea. "You look ordinary, but you're stronger than most powered people," he observed.
"I believe in justice," Bruce said quietly. "In protecting the weak. That's why I fight."
"I push myself daily," Ron replied. "But I also have powers."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "So it's true. You have abilities. And Carter?"
"No," Ron answered. "He isn't a power user."
Bruce's eyes widened. "Then he and Locki are the strongest humans I've ever seen."
Ron leaned forward. "Bruce… I need your help. Do you know someone named David Degg—DA?"
Fear flickered across Bruce's face. "DA? You… you're serious?"
"Anything you know might help," Ron urged. "He doesn't exist in any records."
Bruce's expression darkened. He leaned back. "Two decades ago, my family was killed by a strange cult. I was just a kid. Someone saved me—but I fainted. When I woke, I pretended to be unconscious. I saw a coffin… and a man standing beside it, talking on the phone."
He paused. "He mentioned DA. Said something about stealing it from the organization. That coffin… they were after it."
Ron's mind raced. A cult. A coffin. And DA at the center of it all.
Bruce searched online for the official story. Divers had allegedly found two empty coffins underwater, and the government disposed of them. But Bruce remembered differently. One coffin existed—and an organization had been hunting it.
Someone was lying.
"I'll have my team look into it," Bruce said, standing.
Ron nodded and left the base, his thoughts heavy. Something big was hidden beneath the surface—and DA was in the middle of it.