Chapter 164: The Proud Vigilante: Brother, I'm a Superhero!
In a hideout.
Six dangerous men were drinking and partying.
"Boss, when did you start reading comics? That's kid stuff."
The sixth-ranked member asked in confusion.
The boss didn't answer, but the second-in-command next to him had already explained: "Idiot, you don't get it. The boss is reliving the excitement from last night. Look at what comic the boss is reading!"
"'The Signal,' John McCann... who is John McCann?"
The sixth member who had asked the original question looked confused.
"..."
The second-in-command was speechless for a moment. It turned out that after all their bragging, the sixth member still didn't remember who they had attacked last time.
Even after the explanation, the sixth member was still surprised and said, "Oh, so it was him! But what does this have to do with the boss reading his comics?"
"What an idiot!"
Seeing that the sixth member still didn't understand, the fifth member scolded him with a laugh, "Don't you know this makes it more immersive? Looking at those heroic comics drawn by the comic book artist, with the boss who's supposed to be the villain, brazenly mocking the good guys, and even going a step further to mock the creator of the superhero in the book - it's just too perfect!"
"Ah, this..."
The sixth member was dumbfounded for a moment. How could it be like this?
"Boss, you shouldn't have stopped me back then. You know me."
The second member complained, "When you guys were with that woman, you should have let me have some fun with that pretty boy too - oh wait, the creator!"
The boss looked up from the comics, glanced at the second member, and scolded him with a smile, "I don't want to have to look you in the eye during that."
"Hahaha."
The gang burst into laughter.
"Boss, how about we do another one?"
the fifth member urged. "This was way more exciting than usual. I vote for Wonder Woman. She's the exact heroine from the books, and she's incredibly beautiful. Her parents are the creators, so she's also the daughter of the Creator. Damn! Just thinking about it gets me excited!"
"You still read children's books?"
The others didn't know who Wonder Woman was, and after the fifth member explained, they all laughed.
"If you ask me, if we do another one, it should be Nora Bing, the author of 'Midnight Laughs'!"
The third member couldn't help but speak up.
"Oh, Nora Bing!"
At the mention of the name, everyone nodded, even the second member, who had different preferences.
"This woman knows so much."
"Yeah, I hate reading. It gives me a headache. But I haven't missed a single one of hers. I've read every one of them multiple times. They're absolute classics."
"And the thing is, she's absolutely stunning. That face, that figure, that presence - absolutely gorgeous! She doesn't look fifty at all. She looks younger than thirty!"
"I want to treat her to dinner, hehehe."
"Hehehe, maybe we don't even have to force it. We can just invite her over to do some 'research' for us."
"I still prefer the rough approach!"
The mention of Chandler's mother stirred everyone's interest and the discussion erupted into heated debate.
It was clear that Chandler's mother, Nora Bing, was a world-renowned romance novelist, a household name.
"No way!"
The boss put down his comic book and shook his head. "Wonder Woman and Nora Bing are both incredibly famous. They're completely different from this small-time comic book artist."
"Fourth, what do you think?"
The third member looked at the fourth member, who had been quiet.
"Boss is right."
The fourth hesitated. "Wonder Woman and Nora Bing are too famous, rich and powerful. We can't afford to mess with them. How about Bones? She's relatively less famous."
"Who is Bones?"
everyone asked in unison.
"Dr. Temperance Brennan,"
the fourth explained. "She's a forensic anthropologist, I think, who also writes crime novels. Bones is her nickname."
"Oh, you actually read that stuff?"
The third looked at him in surprise.
"Actually, I don't really like reading either."
The fourth laughed. "It's just that there's a picture of her on the book cover. She has such an amazing figure, so eye-catching! And she's a doctor~"
"That's worth considering. Seems like everyone has their favorite authors and characters."
The boss laughed, looked around, and focused on the sixth: "Sixth, what about you?"
"Boss, you know me. I don't like reading books. Not at all."
The sixth laughed.
"Boss, don't listen to him,"
the fifth member pointed out. "He's always had a crush on this quirky girl named Phoebe Buffay. It's true he doesn't read books, but he watches a lot of movies."
"Phoebe Buffay has even made movies?"
the boss laughed. "That's easy then."
"It wasn't her,"
the sixth member quickly explained. "It was her twin sister, Ursula."
"Good boy,"
the boss was surprised. "So you're the only one of us who's been hiding your interests. Where's this girl now?"
"Boss, stop!"
the sixth member panicked. His admiration for the quirky Phoebe was pure, and he didn't want to share it with everyone.
"Are we still brothers?"
the boss ignored all that and grabbed the sixth member, asking threateningly.
"...Yes,"
the sixth member said with a pained expression.
"That's settled,"
the boss said with a smile. "Good things should be shared."
He then picked up a bottle of beer, poured a glass for everyone, and raised his glass, saying, "We brothers are a perfect match for twin sisters. What do you think?"
"Boss is wise!"
Everyone except the sixth member raised their glasses and laughed.
"Cheers!"
The boss downed the beer in one gulp.
In his opinion, everything the other brothers suggested - whether it was Wonder Woman, Nora Bing, or some doctor - wasn't practical; their profiles were too high.
If they hadn't run into them late that night, he wouldn't have bothered with John McCann.
The risk was too high.
The "sister" was still better. She had no background, and she was a twin. Judging by how much the sixth member treasured her, they were likely pretty attractive too.
Perfect!
He finished his drink and was thinking pleasant thoughts when he suddenly felt dizzy. He shook his head, and just as he sensed something was wrong, his blurry vision saw all five brothers collapse.
"Shit!"
The boss had only this one thought before losing consciousness.
When he regained consciousness, he was horrified to find all six of them tied up in a strange location, with a tall, masked figure standing before them.
Hospital.
Today was John McCann's discharge day.
In the American healthcare system, unless you're willing to pay premium rates, no matter how serious the injury, once it stabilizes, you'll be sent home to recover.
"John, you're being too impulsive."
An Asian man in a suit helped John McCann into the car, then sat down next to him. After signaling the driver to go, he made some awkward small talk about recovery and concern. Seeing John McCann didn't respond, he paused before speaking his mind.
"I know you're devastated, but you shouldn't give away all your money,"
John McCann's agent dutifully advised. "You still have to make a living..."
John McCann remained silent.
The agent sighed and said nothing more.
His client was too young. Any other person would have been crying in front of cameras every day, hoping to gain sympathy and achieve success.
But John remained silent, even rejecting publicity plans. He had now donated all his wealth to charity, looking completely disillusioned, spending each day just calling his deceased fiancée's phone to listen to her final voicemail.
Deep love doesn't last long, and with such an impractical client, he didn't know what to say.
After dropping John McCann off at home, before leaving, the agent couldn't help but say, "John, I won't say anything else. You should rest for a while and then start drawing 'The Signal' again as soon as possible. You have to keep living."
"I won't draw 'The Signal' anymore,"
John McCann finally spoke.
"What?"
the agent was completely rattled. "What do you mean you won't draw 'The Signal'? That's your livelihood."
"I've run out of inspiration for 'The Signal,'"
John McCann said flatly. "I need to draw a new comic."
"Got a new idea?"
the agent breathed a sigh of relief. "What story?"
John McCann fell silent again.
"Okay, as long as you have an idea. Get some rest. I'll come see you tomorrow."
The agent stood up, said his goodbyes, and left.
John McCann watched him leave, then looked at the TV at home, his eyes filled with anticipation.
After an unknown amount of time, the TV suddenly lit up, showing six familiar faces. John McCann stared intently at the screen. When it went black again, he suddenly burst into laughter. After laughing for a while, he broke into tears, calling out his fiancée's name heartbreakingly.
The next day,
when the agent came over, he saw many new sketches on the table. His eyes lit up, but as he picked one up, his brow furrowed.
This must be the inspiration for the new comic that John McCann had mentioned, but it was completely different from his previous style - much darker.
But he could understand it.
Any creator's work reflects their personal state. It's only natural for John McCann, after such a tragic experience, to create such a dark style.
"What do you think?"
John McCann asked upon waking up and seeing his agent looking at his new manuscript.
"It's a bit like Marvel's Punisher."
The agent glanced at John McCann in surprise. Though his eyes still held pain, they were less desperate and more determined. Although he didn't understand why such a dramatic change had occurred overnight, he still sought confirmation. "That's the title, 'Night'?"
"That's an old title I came up with,"
John McCann said, wheeling his chair over and adding a stroke to the title on the manuscript.
"Knight?"
The agent took one look and nodded, "That works much better!"
The addition of the K changed the comic's entire tone, from a gloomy, despairing, nihilistic style to an anti-hero superhero comic. This would reach a much wider audience and significantly increase profit potential.
Mountainside villa.
"So I'm leaving now?"
Justine said to Chuck, dragging her suitcase. "Are you sure you don't need me to stay and clean? I can postpone my trip."
"No,"
Chuck shook his head. "Work exists to support life. Now that the Red John case and the murder website situation have basically calmed down, you can return to normal life. Go vacation abroad to see your mom and sister. That's normal life."
"Okay, thank you so much."
Justine glanced at Chuck, but without saying anything else, she thanked him and left with her luggage.
The money for the vacation abroad to see her mom and sister was provided by Chuck, described as a benefit package. Although she had a vague suspicion that Chuck was conducting some kind of experiment with her best friend, or even her sister, during this time, making it inconvenient for her to stay, she was uncertain when she considered Chuck's completely transparent attitude.
Although she was worried that her best friend might not be able to handle this unusual relationship, she was an adult and it was her best friend's choice, so she couldn't interfere.
Chuck watched Justine leave, returned to the villa, and went to the bedroom. He said to the air, "Is it starting?"
The TV screen suddenly lit up, showing six dangerous faces.
Late at night.
Chuck was busy in the kitchen when a dark shadow approached quietly. Chuck continued washing vegetables without seeming to notice.
A knife-hand strike came down hard toward Chuck's neck.
Chuck stepped back, causing the knife-hand to miss, then struck the dark shadow behind him with an elbow.
The shadow grunted, endured the pain, and threw a punch at Chuck's face.
Chuck raised his hand to block, grabbed the shadow's arm with one hand, flipped him over, then kicked him in the rear, sending him flying.
The shadow hit the ground and rolled, and when he looked back, he was immediately furious to see that Chuck had time to slice a tomato with his other hand.
The shadow, filled with rage, held nothing back and attacked Chuck's vital points viciously, using techniques he had recently perfected.
Chuck frowned, deflecting the shadow's incoming attack with a kick. He then landed another kick on the shadow's rear, following the shadow's downward trajectory. He continued following the shadow as it slid across the ground, kicking it repeatedly, using the shadow's backside like a soccer ball.
"Enough!"
the shadow tried to resist, but no matter how hard he tried, the gap in strength, speed, and skill was so vast that he simply couldn't fight back. Finally, he called out, "You recognized me already, didn't you?"
"No!"
Chuck continued kicking hard.
"..."
The shadow was speechless. Seeing his brother, annoyed by his recent habit of using dirty fighting techniques, refused to acknowledge him, he reached out to remove the mask from his face.
He could disguise his voice, but not his face.
Then he realized he was too naive. His hand trying to remove the mask was knocked away. Chuck didn't even give him the chance, blocking his movement while continuing to kick.
"Frank!"
the shadow shouted, "That's enough! I'm your brother, not your soccer ball!"
"No, you're not!"
Chuck ignored him and continued the beating: "My brother can't be this weak. And he doesn't have a girlfriend."
"..."
Frank's mouth twitched under the mask. He didn't know if it was from the pain or because he was angry that Chuck still didn't forget to mock him.
He regretted it so much!
Back in Wind River, if he had known that this would become a lifelong joke in his brother's mouth, he would have unleashed all his potential and eliminated those bastards even if he had to fight with Natalie another hundred times.
Chuck beat his brother for a while, then walked back to the kitchen as if nothing had happened, washed his hands, and continued cooking.
"Go clean up, and let's eat together later."
"Okay!"
Frank lay on the ground for a while, supporting himself with his elbows, watching Chuck cook. Hearing this, he smiled and stood up.
By the time he finished washing up, Chuck had already set the food on the table. Frank looked at Chuck curiously. "You knew I was coming?"
"You don't have to eat,"
Chuck said casually. "This was supposed to be enough for three people."
"Holy shit!"
Frank was stunned. "Don't tell me you mean what I think you mean."
Chuck didn't answer, simply started eating.
Seeing Chuck like this, and remembering Chuck's earlier implication that he didn't have a girlfriend and that without a girlfriend, he wasn't as capable as him, Frank was immediately furious. He raised his chin and said proudly, "Brother, I know you like reading those superhero comics too, but let me tell you something: your brother is now a real-life superhero!"
"Good for you,"
Chuck said calmly.
"..."
Frank's smile faltered.
The literal meaning of this sentence is supportive and encouraging. However, many phrases need to be understood in context and tone to grasp their true meaning, and often the meaning is the exact opposite of the literal words.
Chuck's tone was cold and dismissive, meaning, "I don't care about this at all. It's none of my business. As long as you're happy," which is similar to a sarcastic "congratulations."
This was not the reaction he wanted!
(End of Chapter)
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