Luke climbed back into his room through the window.
He quietly cracked the door open and peeked outside. His adoptive parents seemed to have already gone to bed. The living room downstairs was silent.
Closing the door, Luke collapsed onto his bed and quickly fell asleep.
Throughout the night, he had activated his Nen Energy Shield multiple times and realized just how draining it was. Right now, he was completely exhausted—his eyelids felt like they weighed a ton.
He slept soundly the entire night.
Just before dawn, he even had a dream.
In the dream, he had become insanely lucky—like the ultimate RNG god. Fully geared, perfectly optimized, wiping out everything in raids, dominating enemies effortlessly, while a group of teammates behind him shouted "666!" in admiration.
When he woke up, it was already past nine in the morning.
After the chaos of last night, the outside world was probably already in complete uproar.
Luke got up, washed his face, brushed his teeth, and went downstairs for breakfast.
Entering the living room, he noticed that Matt—the injured Daredevil from last night—was no longer there. Only faint traces of blood remained on the couch, not yet fully cleaned.
Luke pretended not to notice.
"Good morning, Karen."
"Morning, honey!"
Karen, who was preparing breakfast, immediately pulled him into a hug and planted a warm, affectionate kiss on his cheek.
Luke casually wiped his face, acting indifferent.
He still wasn't used to this.
Mentally, he was an adult.
Karen, though technically his adoptive mother, was only in her early thirties.
Being kissed every morning by a woman barely older than him, not related by blood, and easily an eight out of ten—
Yeah… the feeling was complicated.
Breakfast was a standard American spread:
Toast, milk, bacon, and fried eggs.
Seeing only two sets of utensils on the table, Luke asked,
"Foggy didn't eat?"
Karen paused slightly, then smiled.
"Sweetheart, Foggy had work to take care of. He already ate earlier."
"Got it."
Luke didn't say anything more.
He knew Foggy was handling Matt's situation.
Most likely, he had already taken the blind lawyer back home early in the morning.
Judging from everything, Daredevil's injuries didn't seem life-threatening.
The TV was broadcasting the morning news.
The anchor, full of energy, was reporting on last night's massive conflict that had shaken half of New York awake.
The footage showed Hell's Kitchen.
The area had already been sealed off by police.
Patrol cars filled the streets, their lights flashing continuously.
According to reports:
Five NYPD officers had been killed.
The scene was devastating.
Shattered glass covered the ground, mixed with fresh, dark-red blood.
The bodies had already been removed, but the streets were littered with scorched explosion marks.
The entire block looked like something straight out of hell.
"As you can see," the reporter said,"this area looks like it's been ravaged by demons from the abyss."
"Oh my God…"
Karen covered her mouth, staring at the screen in disbelief.
The broadcast cut to interviews.
Residents in nearby buildings were packing up, preparing to move out.
An elderly woman spoke to the camera:
"This place was already hell. But this time? Satan himself came here!"
The report listed the participants involved in the conflict:
Russian groups
Local New York gangs
Japanese Yakuza
Then—
A blurry photograph appeared on screen.
A small figure.
Wearing an Iron Man mask.
A large question mark hovered above the image.
Caption:
"Not Iron Man. Then who is he?"
Luke froze.
The piece of egg on his fork dropped.
"…That's me."
He'd actually been photographed.
Damn it.
Judging from the angle and blur, it had likely been taken by a nearby resident using a phone.
These people really had guts—
Taking photos in the middle of gunfire.
"Good thing I wore the Iron Man mask…"
Luke thought to himself.
Next time, he'd have to be even more careful.
People like this were everywhere.
He picked up the egg again and ate it in one bite.
He wasn't worried about being traced.
Last night, he had been extremely cautious.
The disguise.
The voice changer.
The Iron Man mask.
The "dwarf" illusion.
All of it formed a perfect cover.
Even if someone investigated—
They would be searching for that mysterious dwarf.
Not a seven-year-old kid quietly eating breakfast at the table.
No one would suspect him.
The aftermath of last night's chaos would continue to spread for a while.
But none of it would lead back to him.
…
At the top floor of Stark Tower, inside a luxurious office—
Tony Stark stared at the news image projected by JARVIS.
He blinked in surprise.
"…Since when did I become this popular?"
Even criminals were wearing his mask during shootouts?
"Sir, would you like me to investigate this individual?" JARVIS asked.
"No need."
Tony shook his head.
"This has nothing to do with me. Now—how's the Mark V portability coming along?"
"Everything is ready, sir."
"Good. Begin testing."
…
Hell's Kitchen. The Roulette Casino.
A well-dressed young man in a tailored suit and black-rimmed glasses walked in with steady steps.
The casino manager rushed out to greet him.
"Mr. Wesley… I didn't expect you to come personally. It's an honor…"
The manager lowered his head respectfully.
"Any findings?" Wesley asked calmly.
"N-not yet… That dwarf… it's like he vanished into thin air. Neither our people nor the Russians can find him."
The manager stammered nervously.
"I-it's not even that much money… maybe we could just—"
"It's not about the amount."
Wesley interrupted him.
His tone remained calm, but his gaze sharpened.
"I said it before. No one takes Kingpin's money like that. You want him to find out?"
"N-no!"
The manager shook his head frantically, cold sweat pouring down his face.
He knew exactly who Wesley represented.
Not just an assistant—
But someone who essentially spoke for Kingpin.
Wesley adjusted his suit and tie.
"Handle it."
Then he turned and walked out.
"Yes! I'll continue the investigation!"
Only after Wesley left did the manager finally exhale.
Then he immediately called his staff.
"Find that damn dwarf!"
…
"Achoo—"
Luke rubbed his nose.
After last night's battle, he had confirmed something:
Kingpin wasn't at his peak yet.
Hell's Kitchen was still in chaos—
A battleground where multiple factions were fighting for control.
Just last night—
Three major forces had already appeared.
The Russians and the Yakuza were roughly equal.
But Kingpin's forces clearly showed stronger organization and dominance.
Taking over Hell's Kitchen was only a matter of time.
Luke pushed those thoughts aside.
It was the weekend.
No school.
Still—
It felt ridiculous.
A grown adult sitting in a classroom learning 1 + 1 = 2 with kids.
He locked his door.
Took out the bank card.
$210,000.
He turned it in his hand, thinking carefully about how to spend it.
After all—
After a night like that—
It was finally time to enjoy the rewards.