PFC Chapter 4366 The Justice League Assembles (4)
Chapter 4366 The Justice League Assembles (4)
Chapter 4366 Justice League: Assemble (XIV)
They went up to the second floor and knocked on the door. A slightly tired and somewhat overweight Black woman opened the door for them. Upon seeing them, she let out a joyful cry and rushed to hug them one by one.
"Oh my god, why did you come at this time! Come in quickly, it's not safe here."
"It's alright. You know, Victor has changed a lot."
The two entered the house one after the other. The house was actually quite nicely decorated, though somewhat worn, it still showed signs of its former glory. Victor went over and played with the baby in the bassinet in the living room. Meanwhile, the Black aunt had already started crying.
“Yes, the heating subsidy is gone. This house is as cold as an icebox. If I couldn’t light the fireplace to keep warm, I probably would have frozen to death. Firewood is also very expensive. If it weren’t for you, where would we get the money… We really wouldn’t be able to get through this winter…”
Derry pulled a few bills from a wad of cash, handed them to the Black woman, and said, "Christmas is coming soon, take these and buy some good food."
"God bless you all."
Don't worry too much, everything will pass.
The Black woman, however, seemed to have suddenly unleashed her emotions, sitting on the sofa and sobbing uncontrollably. Between sobs, she mumbled, "That's what they all said back then… I never wanted to move away from our old neighborhood. Harmon said this area would become a bustling downtown, and there were subsidies for buying a house, plus a tax exemption of over ten years. I thought our little house wasn't big enough for our family of four, and if we could add some money to buy a bigger house here, that would be great. Who knew…"
The two stayed at the Black aunt's house for a long time until she gradually calmed down. After leaving, Victor turned to look at Derry and said, "You haven't told us the story of this community yet."
“There’s nothing to say, it’s the same old trick,” Derry sighed. “They lure middle-class Black people with some spare cash into buying houses, offering all sorts of incentives to tempt most of them. Once they buy the houses, they’re fine for a while, but soon the property management company will abscond with the money, and no security or police will be willing to take on any cases in this community. In the end, all the criminals in the city will flock here, and then it’s all over.”
"Oh, right, without property management, the elevators will be unusable soon. The elderly will be unable to return to their homes and will quickly become homeless. Young people, after a day's work, will be too exhausted to climb the stairs. If they're lucky, they might be able to rent a place; if they're unlucky, they'll end up on the streets. That's why they build high-rises."
Victor fell silent for a moment, and the two climbed together to the top floor where someone lived. A very strong black man opened the door, glanced at them, and let them in.
“Those two lads are here again,” the Black man said to the people inside the house.
The house was inhabited by strong, middle-aged men. The room reeked of cigarettes, alcohol, and marijuana, but it wasn't particularly messy; it was clear that someone had tidied it up.
A younger Black woman came out and said, “Please have a seat, I’ll get you some coffee.”
“No need.” Delhi took out the money and said, “It’s not much this time, you can have it all. By the way, when we came here, two policemen gave us trouble.”
The Black man sitting in the middle rolled his eyes and asked, "What does he look like?"
"A fat man with a scar under his left eye; a thin woman with a hooked nose and a pointed, monkey-like face."
"Pav and Achuli. That pair is notoriously difficult to deal with, how did you two get away?"
Derry pointed at Victor. The black gang leader rolled his eyes again, his gaze lingering on the red-glowing mechanical eyes under the hood, before saying, "Well, with this freak around, no wonder you guys can get money."
"I'll say it again, this is for children. Christmas is coming soon, and this is the last time this year."
“Of course, I understand.” The black leader put the money away and then said, “I know you didn’t get the money through crime. Your clothes and the way you talk don’t belong to the people on the street.”
Derry glanced at Victor uncertainly. Victor said, "I'm a freak; robbing a bank is easier for me than peeing."
The black leader suddenly stared at him for a while before looking away and saying, "You're too young. They have plenty of ways to deal with freaks like you. You'd better be careful. If they catch you, no one can save you."
The two came out of the building together. Derry spread his hands and said, "Don't worry about it. That guy was just a bit rude, but he's a good person. There are so many black communities around, but this one has the most students, which proves that he's managing it quite well."
Victor nodded and said, "Thank you. Without you, I don't know where I would have found these people."
Derry put his arm around his shoulder and said, "Don't do that, we're good brothers. We competed together back in the day, and we're still doing just as well together now. Okay, I'll see you off here, I'm leaving."
Victor watched his departing figure for a long while before turning his gaze away and walking back in that hooded, hands-in-pockets posture.
But instead of going straight home, he went to the nearest bank. He first looked up and saw all the security cameras on the street where the bank was located turn off one by one, and then the ATMs started dispensing money. He simply walked over, picked up the money from the ground, put it in his pocket, and then went home.
He casually tossed the money into the laundry basket, then collapsed onto the sofa, took a sip of his energy drink, rolled over, grabbed a jacket from the back of the chair, covered himself with it, and fell asleep.
But before he could get much sleep, in the middle of the night, Victor suddenly heard a noise downstairs. He sat up from the sofa, but instead of opening the door, he cautiously went to the balcony and looked down.
A Black man stood downstairs gesturing to him. Victor couldn't understand the gesture, but the man pointed to the other end of the street. Victor's eyes lit up; all the security cameras on the other side of the street turned in one direction—a squad of fully armed police officers were crouching on the street corner.
Victor nodded and gave a reassuring gesture to the black man downstairs. He knew it was a messenger from the mob, and although it was of little use to him, the feeling of returning the favor was nice.
The black man quickly disappeared from sight. Victor glanced around the street; everyone seemed to be asleep. So he jumped off the balcony and stood in the middle of the road.
Suddenly, all the police car lights flashed, all the sirens blared, and eerie screams came from the radios. All the officers were terrified and retreated hastily. In the midst of this, one unprofessional officer accidentally released the safety, and in his shock, his finger slipped onto the trigger, and it went off with a "bang." Then came a cacophony of bangs and crackling sounds, and all the officers tumbled into a heap.
The lights in the apartment building came on quickly. When Victor returned to his room, he heard all the neighbors cursing: some were calling the police to complain, some were trying to pull strings to get the police fired, and others were contacting the homeowners' association to change the security guards.
He walked back to his sofa and sat down, intending to go back to sleep. But just then, his phone rang. He picked it up and answered. A voice came through: "Hello, Victor Stone, we are the Sky Eye, the organization that manages superpowered individuals..." Victor hung up.
"Hello, Victor Stone, I think we need to talk." A voice came from the television. Victor snapped his fingers, and the television went black.
“Victor Stone, we mean no harm, we just need your help.” The voice came from the recorder again.
Victor remained motionless until the phone rang from deep within the room. He frowned deeply, walked towards the room, and cautiously pushed open the door—it was his mother's room, and her old cell phone lay on the table.
He hadn't dared touch any of his mother's belongings since the day of the car accident. He thought the phone was broken, but now it was ringing. He had no choice but to pick it up.
The other party said, "I'm sorry, this is the only way we can contact you, but we really need help. Listen, Victor, Superman moved Capitol Hill to Metropolis, which will seriously affect this election. The opposition is already demanding a revote, and we must get the Capitol back where it belongs as soon as possible. The Sky Eye has formed a team, and we hope you can join us..."
“I’ll consider it.” Victor thought for a moment, then said, “The police are looking for me. Help me deal with them, otherwise I won’t help you.”
"Of course, of course, we can help you with any trouble. Please get back to us as soon as possible; this matter cannot be delayed any longer."
After hanging up the phone, Schiller sighed. The female agent who had been standing behind him had already sat down. As for why the target of the call changed from John Jones to Victor Stone, it was because a call he made that morning had only earned him a resounding "Get out!!!!" that echoed throughout the East Coast.
“The other party is too resistant, there’s nothing I can do,” Schiller said, spreading his hands. “The people we approached before didn’t have families or any ties, so they were really hard to persuade. But it’s okay, next time we’ll find someone with a weakness, this time it’ll definitely work.”
The female agent monitoring him felt something was off, but after carefully considering Schiller's actions, he realized there was nothing out of line. He was diligently contacting superpowered individuals and his persuasive tactics were quite normal, such as "We can help you solve your problem" or "Think about your family"—that's what agents always say when they're doing their jobs.
Moreover, after monitoring him for so long, no one was found to be contacting him privately. All his actions were within reasonable limits, and there was nothing wrong with them. In fact, it could be said that he did a much better job than Amanda.
After failing to persuade John Jones, Schiller suggested finding a man named Victor Stone. This guy was a cyborg with a steel body; while not as strong as Superman, he should be able to lift Capitol Hill.
They quickly located Victor Stone's residence through their internal system and, after staking out the neighborhood for half a day, finally waited for Victor to come out. Schiller personally led the search of his residence.
“He lost his mother in the car accident,” said the Sky Eye agent in charge of investigating his background. “He also appears to have been seriously injured. The insurance covered part of it, and he had to pay the rest himself.”
At that moment, Schiller pushed open the door to the innermost bedroom and immediately saw the cell phone on the table. He put on gloves, picked up the phone, and said, "Let's have someone from the tech department come and take a look, see if this phone still works, and what the phone number is. We'll call this phone later. Maybe this will evoke his memories of his loved ones."