A personal attack?
Touched on a sore spot, the thugs' eyes turned red.
Even though we're trash, you can't just say it so bluntly!
Even trashy people have pride, okay?
Just as they prepared to make their move, they heard Jordan ask, "You lot are trying to rob me, aren't you?"
"Because of this, I can act in self-defense."
The group looked at each other, wondering if this guy was an idiot.
"Stop talking." The leader drew a battle-damaged Glock 17 from his waist, its dark muzzle pointing at Jordan. "Hand over all the money you have!"
One Minute Later
Bang bang bang bang...
A violent spray of gunfire shattered the Brooklyn quiet. It wasn't a random burst; it was the work of a marksman, a magazine emptied with the rhythmic precision of a master.
Jordan stood his ground, one hand shoved coolly in his pocket while the other rose, fingers splayed. His black trench coat flared as if caught in a phantom gale.
He was a pair of shades away from being Neo himself. The thugs grinned, expecting to see lead tear through flesh, but their sneers died in their throats. The bullets didn't hit. They hit an invisible wall, grinding to a halt in mid-air as the shooters' triumph curdled into pure terror.
As Jordan left the alley, five gang members with bruised and swollen faces stood respectfully behind him, insisting on handing over all their loose change and cell phones. Promising to behave well in the future and sit at the children's table when they ate.
Unable to refuse, Jordan had no choice but to accept them all.
At least the funds and equipment for activities over the next few days were secured.
Meanwhile, poor Peter was still mopping the floor in the closed hamburger shop.
Jordan was no longer completely clueless.
Once connected to the world via internet, massive amounts of information presented themselves.
With several phones searching simultaneously, Jordan quickly browsed through local New York news.
As he continued investigating, he soon discovered the epicenter of the Brooklyn earthquake was directly beneath a building called Fisk Tower.
Seeing the building owner's signature confirmed he'd found the right direction.
Real name: Wilson Fisk. A Marvel supervillain and one of Daredevil and Spider-Man's archenemies.
So Jordan went to Hell's Kitchen on Manhattan's west side, using mental energy to cover the entire block. But he couldn't find the Night Devil who loved the neighborhood so much.
Similarly, this New York City lacked any flamboyant Stark Tower. No news about the Avengers circulated online either.
Considering that Peter Parker from the MCU also traveled from another timeline, this world was most likely a special stage for Spider-Man heroes.
Back to the Present,
The camera returns to Brooklyn.
Melody Cafe was located near Brooklyn's heart, in a bustling area that, while not as vibrant as Manhattan across the river, remained one of the borough's most lively districts.
Across the street from the coffee shop stood a towering commercial building. A luxurious banquet hall on the top floor. Its height far exceeded most surrounding buildings.
This was the Fisk Building. Private property of Kingpin, the New York underworld kingpin.
If a traditional Spider-Man were here, he'd probably have already begun the entire investigation process: disguising himself, infiltrating, fighting, stealing core secrets.
As a psychic superpower user, Jordan's methods were far more convenient.
Just like the search for Daredevil last night, invisible psychic force rippled and spread across the city, silently covering the entire building.
During this process, ordinary employees busy in the building noticed nothing unusual.
From Jordan's perspective, nothing about the building seemed abnormal.
The telekinetic perspective extended downward from the banquet hall on the top floor, revealing offices of various departments. Staff members moved between floors, seizing every opportunity to earn every penny for their boss.
Conversations. Reprimands. Arguments. Insults. The clatter of high heels on marble floors. The clatter of keyboards. The indescribable sounds of a man and woman in a toilet stall.
In an instant, all scene information in the building was processed by mental power and restored into sound and images, clearly transmitted to his mind.
After critical examination, he learned the general outline of Kingpin's business empire, financial situation, and how many competitors he'd dealt with the previous day.
Jordan had to admit these things were normal for a company with underworld connections.
Since the epicenter is underground, let's continue downward.
The all-encompassing power of thought extended downward, passing through a layer of impenetrable concrete. The world before his eyes suddenly opened up.
The building's underground parking garage was excavated all the way down to a former abandoned Brooklyn subway station, creating a huge experimental space beneath the city. Covering an area comparable to four or five football fields.
In the huge cavity before the laboratory, a large particle collider had been secretly built. Two emitters placed opposite each other were like two large-caliber cannons. You could imagine how much energy the high-energy particle beams emitted from them possessed!
That solves the case. The culprit that interfered with spacetime and caused the massive earthquake was undoubtedly this giant machine!
At the space's top was a central control room. Through the control room's partition, hundreds of busy researchers sat before computers, typing away diligently. Leading them was a thin, afro-haired female PhD student wearing a white lab coat. At this moment, she was excited, a fervent look in her eyes, passionately talking to a tall, bald man with exceptionally strong physique.
Just like in the original. Everything on the surface was a smokescreen to deceive people. Dr. Genus next door would exclaim that he knew it all.
"Listen to me, boss, we're just one step away from success. Yesterday's experiment..." Dr. Olivia Octavius's passionate narration came to an abrupt halt as she glanced around with a puzzled look.
Kingpin's physique was unusually tall but definitely not bulky. His specially made black suit was completely stretched by his strong, inflated muscles, making him look like a bulletproof wall wherever he stood.
Noticing the narration had stopped, he lowered his head slightly. His eyes coldly followed Dr. Octavius's gaze as he looked around. "What happened, Doctor?" His voice was gruff.
"Emm..." Finding nothing amiss, the female version of Doctor Octopus frowned and looked away, asking suspiciously, "Just now, did you have... how should I put it, a feeling of being enveloped in liquid?"
Inside the Coffee Shop
Jordan, who was monitoring everyone, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
Doctor Octopus could vaguely sense telekinesis presence. She truly deserved to be called a top scientist. Though she did no good, she was a genius who far surpassed ordinary people in some aspects.
If this were in the One-Punch Man world, she'd probably mutate into a tech-savvy monster in no time.