"Alright... alright, enough already. You'll have plenty of time to argue later," Oldcowboy interjected with his usual southern drawl. He turned to Strauss. "Mr. Strauss, please continue. What else do we need to know?"
"You're right, Mr. Blackwood. My apologies." Strauss composed himself before continuing. "As I was saying, my investigation suggests this vigilante encountered Necrotox and his puppets by chance and neutralized them immediately upon sight."
"Strauss," Oldcowboy began, "based on your evidence, do you believe this vigilante knew about Necrotox beforehand? Or was he actively tracking him?"
"No, Mr. Blackwood. All evidence indicates the vigilante had no prior knowledge of Necrotox."
"So you're telling me this vigilante attacked Necrotox without knowing who he was or what he was doing?" Oldcowboy's drawl grew more pronounced as he pressed the point.
Strauss frowned, scanning his documents again to ensure he hadn't missed anything. This was precisely why he'd involved local authorities and heroes especially veterans like Oldcowboy. It was to gain their perspective.
"I understand how improbable this sounds... but we can't rule it out completely." Strauss underlined key points on the papers as he spoke.
"Heh... typical," Photon Fury scoffed.
Oldcowboy shot her a brief glance before dismissing her childish behavior. Strauss merely narrowed his eyes slightly, engaging with her would only lower himself to her level.
"Mr. Blackwood," Strauss refocused, "if your theory holds, then we're looking at a vigilante with an intelligence network surpassing our city-wide 24/7 security systems and more capable than thousands of our personnel. Are you suggesting such an individual exists in this city-state? The frontier of North America's east coast?" He let the implication hang in the air.
"That's right," Oldcowboy nodded.
Strauss leaned forward. "With all due respect, as a Level 9 UEC officer privy to countless unbelievable facts, this still very… challenging to belive." His gaze locked with the old man's.
"If it's him... it's possible," Oldcowboy countered.
Strauss froze as realization dawned. There was only one person who could pull this off. "No... That's impossible. He's been dead for over ten years."
"Did you see his corpse?"
Hearing Oldcowboy's question, Strauss clearly hesitated, his confidence wavering.
"Who?" Thomas asked the old man, confused. As captain of a small police precinct, he wasn't privy to highly classified information.
Photon Fury was equally confused but didn't ask, not wanting to appear ignorant. She masked her confusion with a smirk and a small scoff at Thomas's question.
Strauss didn't answer immediately. He tapped his wrist-mounted personal console, and the room darkened as a screen descended behind him, displaying an image of a scarred man in tactical gear.
"Name: Owen Lane. Codename: Mongoose. Villain alias: Blood Mongoose," Strauss began. "He served ten years as UEC black ops - his experience made him our top operative. His EF, 'Frenzy Trance,' grants regenerative abilities comparable to average regenerator-types while tripling his physical capabilities."
"Most of his operations remain classified, but I can share two declassified missions. First: 'Hyena Hunt' - the elimination of all surviving alien stragglers in the target area. Second: 'Operation Golden Prize' - the assassination of Overdrive, a rogue former top-ten hero capable of moving at 50% light speed."
"I remember that one," Oldcowboy interjected. "He visited Buck the Gunsmith to create time-dilation flechette rounds. Even with bullets that slowed time threefold, taking down Overdrive was... impressive."
Seeing the white man on screen, Photon Fury couldn't help but sneer. "Of course, he was just lucky... maybe one in a thousand odds. Possibly less." She shrugged dismissively.
Strauss stared at her speechlessly before sighing.
~sigh "Miss Pamela Diamond, if you could—"
"It's Smith! I changed my surname!" Photon Fury roared.
Strauss didn't flinch. "As of this morning's records, your surname change request remains unapproved. Until processed, I'll address you properly." He knew she hated her surname because it sounded like a stripper's stage name.
"You sexist pig!"
"If preventing you from having childish outbursts and learning to listen to others during serious discussions makes me sexist, then so be it," Strauss replied calmly.
Enraged, Photon Fury activated her powers, fist glowing as she drew back to strike, then punched out but froze a few inches before it hit Strauss's face when she noticed that Strauss didn't react. He simply maintained eye contact, his gaze judgmental.
She had expected him to flinch or cower, giving her the satisfaction of seeing him humiliated. Instead, his unwavering composure unnerved her.
A quick glance around the room made her realize Thomas's disapproving gaze. Oldcowboy watched her like an adult observing a toddler's tantrum. These judgmental looks... she hated it.
BOOM!
She blasted through the wall with her powers, alarming teh staff and officer outside as they rushed in to investigate; Strauss waved them off. "Close the door. This meeting isn't concluded." The staff obeyed immediately.
"You shouldn't stoop to her level, son," Oldcowboy remarked.
"I appreciate the concern, Mr. Blackwood," Strauss said deadpan, "but while she's still under my jurisdiction, I'll enforce discipline. Otherwise, I wouldn't waste a breath on the people like her."
"Let's continue..." Strauss said matter-of-factly, completely unfazed by both the gaping hole in the wall and Photon Fury's dramatic exit.
"You serious right now?" Oldcowboy asked, his face a mix of awe and disbelief as he looked at the gaping hole in the wall and back at Strauss.
"I'm always serious," Strauss replied without hesitation.
"Son, I do believe you've got a screw loose up there," Oldcowboy drawled in his signature southern tone, his weathered face creased with genuine concern as he studied Strauss.
Strauss: "..."
— Night - Maximilian's House —
Maximilian sat on the couch in his room, watching TV. Now that he had enough money to stay afloat for over 60 years without financial worries, he felt strangely lost... as if he suddenly lost his drive.
He wasn't the type to burn through his newfound wealth on sports cars or luxury goods unless absolutely necessary, and this sudden security left him feeling like he'd lost his purpose.
One needed to understand - in his previous life, the main reason he worked so hard and woke up every morning was twofold: to be a good father and husband and to earn enough to support them. But in this world?
He'd been transported here, given a fresh start - single and young again, with more than enough money to last a lifetime. And instead of feeling liberated, he felt... empty.
Now, he spent his evenings watching TV, gazing out the window at the festive atmosphere as people celebrated, walking past his house with their partners and families, their laughter floating up through the night air.
[You seem... lost.] The System began.
"Yeah... maybe."
[Why? Don't you have everything you need? You don't have to work or answer to anyone at a job anymore. Isn't this what humans call... financial freedom?] The System asked, genuinely confused.
"I can't speak for others, System. But for me, the reason I wanted financial freedom was to share it with my family and loved ones... but in this world..." Maximilian gestured around the barren room. "There's only me. And I've never been the type for extravagance."
This was absolutely true to his character. Despite his wealth, he hadn't bothered to buy additional furniture or upgrade his camping bed. The only significant purchase he'd made with Blood Mongoose's money was the desktop computer he used that morning to register himself as an official citizen of the city-state.
Fortunately, the city had policies welcoming immigrants from the various scattered survivor camps outside its borders. The registration process had been simple enough - just a photo taken by the desktop's camera and an interview with the city's AI system for immigrants.
Now, Maximilian's official status was that of an immigrant with a "distant cousin" in the city—a convenient fiction—who owned local property. Fortunately, the land deed Blood Mongoose had left him was for a suburban house rather than slum housing.
The location proved perfect: sufficiently distant from the city center to guarantee quiet nights free from urban noise pollution, yet near enough to maintain convenient access to shops and amenities.
This advantageous property situation accelerated his citizenship processing significantly. With such prime real estate under his name, he only needed to wait a few more days for final approval.
[What about the thing that Blood Mongoose ask you? About his daughter? Wasn't that also a goal for you?] the System asked.
"That's not a goal, System. It's a promise. I promised him I'd help look into his daughter and ensure her safety, and I aim to follow through on that. In fact, I'm already on it."
[Huh? When? I only saw you sitting in front of the computer. (￣▽￣;)]
"What are you? A mother who assumes I'm playing games just because I'm using a computer to work?"
[Aren't you being a little too specific? (ー_ー゛)] the System retorted.
"I've already checked her name in the public citizenship database. Nothing came up... but according to Blood Mongoose, she should still be in this city."
[Maybe... she died?] the System suggested.
"I checked that too. Her name isn't in any cemetery records or recent deceased lists either. I'm still figuring out how to proceed from here," Maximilian said.
[Why are you so sure Blood Mongoose wasn't just mistaken?]
"Because I was a father once," Maximilian replied, his voice firm. "When I looked into his eyes, I knew - this wasn't someone who would forget or misremember something so important."