They arrived on the second floor and knocked on the door. A slightly exhausted and somewhat overweight Black aunt opened the door for them. Seeing the two of them, she let out a cry of surprise and embraced them both warmly.
"Oh my God, what are you doing here at this time! Come in quickly, it's not safe here."
"It's fine. You know, Victor has changed a lot."
The two walked into the house one after the other. The house's decoration was actually quite nice; although a bit outdated, it showed signs of its former glory. Victor went over and played with the baby in the baby basket in the living room, while the Black aunt had already started crying.
"Yes, the heating subsidies are gone. The house is as cold as an ice cellar. If I couldn't light the fireplace to keep warm, I might have frozen to death. The firewood is expensive too; without you, where would the money come from… we really wouldn't survive this winter…"
Deri pulled out a few bills from a wad of cash, handed it to the Black aunt, and said, "Christmas is coming up, use it to buy something nice to eat."
"Oh my God, may God always bless you."
"Don't worry too much, everything will pass."
But the Black aunt seemed to have suddenly opened a floodgate of emotions, sat on the sofa, and cried uncontrollably. While crying, she muttered vaguely: "They all said the same back then… I didn't want to move out of the old community. It was Hammon who said this place would become a bustling city center in the future, and there were subsidies for buying a house, plus more than a decade of property tax exemption. I thought our old little house wasn't enough for a family of four, and it'd be nice to add some money to buy a big house here. Who knew…"
The two stayed at the Black aunt's place for a long time until her emotions gradually calmed down. After leaving, Victor looked back at Deri and said, "You haven't told the story of this community yet."
"There's nothing to say, it's the usual trick," Deri sighed and said, "Deceive Black middle-class folks with some savings into buying homes, offering all sorts of incentives to tempt most of them. Once they bought the house, everything was fine for a while, but soon the property management takes all the money and disappears, and no security or police would take any jobs in this community. In the end, all the criminals in the city gather here, and it's over."
"Oh, and after the property management's gone, no one maintains the elevators, so they break down quickly. The elderly can't return home and soon become homeless. After a day's work, young people don't even have the energy to climb up. The lucky ones can rent a place, while the unlucky ones end up on the street. That's why they built high-rises."
Victor was momentarily silent as the two climbed to the highest occupied floor. Upon opening the door, they saw a very strong Black man who, after just a glance, let them in.
"Those two kids are back," the Black man said to those inside.
The apartment was full of strong middle-aged men; the place reeked of smoke, alcohol, and marijuana, but the room wasn't particularly messy, as it was clear someone had cleaned up.
A younger Black woman came out and said, "Have a seat, I'll get you some coffee."
"No need," Deri took out the money and said, "It's not much this time; it's all for you. By the way, we were hassled by two cops on our way here."
The Black man in the middle rolled his eyes and said, "What do they look like?"
"A fat man with a scar under his left eye; a thin woman with an eagle hook nose, sharp-chinned, monkey-faced."
"Pav and Aquli. They're notoriously difficult; how did you get away?"
Deri pointed at Victor. The Black boss rolled his eyes again, his gaze paused at the mechanical eye shining red under the hood, and said, "Alright, with this freak around, no wonder you can get money."
"I'll say it again, it's for the kids. Christmas is coming up, and this is the last time this year."
"Of course, I understand." The Black boss took the money and said, "I know you didn't get this money illegally; your clothes and speech aren't those of street people."
Deri looked somewhat uncertainly at Victor. Victor said, "I'm a freak, robbing a bank is easier than peeing."
The Black boss suddenly stared at him, and after a while, withdrew his gaze and said, "You're too young. They have ways to deal with freaks like you; you'd better be careful. If they catch you, no one can save you."
The two walked out of the building together. Deri spread his hands and said, "Don't mind, that guy just talks harshly, but he's a good person. Out of so many Black communities, this one has the most students, which proves he's managed it well."
Victor nodded and said, "Thank you. Without you, I wouldn't know where to find these people."
Deri put an arm around his shoulder and said, "Don't be like this, we're good brothers. We rode the arenas together back in the day, and now we can still make it big together. Okay, I'll drop you off here, I'm leaving."
Victor watched his departing figure for a while before withdrawing his gaze and walked back the way he came, hoodie up and hands in pockets.
But he didn't head straight home; he went to a nearby bank first. He looked up, and all the surveillance cameras on the street where the bank was located went dark one after another, then the ATM started to spit cash. He just walked over, picked up the money from the ground, and placed it in his pocket before heading home.
He casually tossed the money into the dirty laundry basket, then collapsed onto the sofa, took a sip of energy drink, flipped over, grabbed a jacket from the chair back and covered himself with it, falling asleep without much thought.
But he hadn't slept long when he heard noises downstairs in the middle of the night. He sat up from the sofa, didn't open the door immediately, but cautiously went to the balcony to take a look.
A black man stood underneath gesturing toward him. Victor couldn't understand the gesture, but the man pointed to the other end of the street. Victor's gaze shifted, all cameras on the other end of the street pointed in one direction—an armed squad of police was crouched around the street corner.
Victor understood and made a reassuring gesture to the black man below. He knew that was the mob coming to warn him, though it was of little use to him, it still felt good to reciprocate.
The black man quickly disappeared from sight. Victor scanned the street area, people should have been asleep by now. He jumped straight down from the balcony, landing in the middle of the road.
Suddenly, all police car lights lit up, all alarms blared loudly, and various ghostly howls came from the walkie-talkies, causing the police to retreat repeatedly. During this, one unprofessional officer opened the safety lock and, startled, pressed the trigger, and a "bang" went off inadvertently. Then came a series of "bang bang bang, crackle pop," and all officers were thrown into chaos.
Lights in the apartment building quickly turned on. As Victor walked back to his room, he heard all the neighbors cursing: some were phoning the police to complain, others were using connections to demand police be fired, and others contacted the homeowners' association to change security.
He returned to his own sofa to sit down, ready to sleep again. But then his phone rang, he picked it up to hear a voice: "Hello, Victor Stone, we are A.R.G.U.S., the agency managing superpower users..." Victor hung up.
"Hello, Victor Stone, I think we need to have a chat." A voice appeared from the TV. Victor snapped his fingers, and the TV turned off.
"Victor Stone, we mean no harm, we just want your help with a matter." A voice came from the recorder.
Victor didn't react until the phone rang from deep within the room. Victor frowned deeply, walked toward that room, and cautiously pushed the door—it was his mother's room, and the old phone she left was there, sitting on the table.
Since the day of the car accident, he hadn't dared touch any of his mother's belongings. He thought the phone was broken, but now it was ringing. He had no choice but to pick up the phone.
The other side said, "Sorry, we can only reach you this way because we truly need your help. Listen, Victor, Superman has moved Capitol Hill to the Metropolis, which will severely impact this election. The opposition is causing trouble, demanding a re-vote, and we must speedily return the Capitol Building to its rightful spot. A.R.G.U.S. has assembled a team, and we hope you'll join..."
"I'll consider it." Victor thought for a moment and still said, "Police are after me, deal with them for me, or I won't help you."
"Of course, of course, if there's any trouble, we can help you. Please respond as soon as possible, this matter cannot be delayed."
After hanging up, Shiller sighed. The female agent who was initially standing behind him was now sitting down. As for why the call target shifted from John Jones to Victor Stone, it was because this morning a phone call was made, only to hear a resounding "get lost!!!!" across the East Coast.
"The opposition is too strong, there's nothing more I can do," Shiller spread his hands and said, "All the ones we've approached before had no family, were free of ties, and extremely difficult to persuade. But it doesn't matter, next up we'll find someone with a soft spot, this time we'll succeed."
The female agent monitoring him always felt something was off, but upon reflection on Shiller's actions, there was nothing inappropriate, all done conscientiously while connecting with superpower users, persuasion language was entirely normal, nothing more than "we can help with your troubles" or "think about your family," such phrases were typical for agents.
After such extended surveillance, no private contacts were discovered, and all actions remained within reasonable limits, nothing questionable, even better than Aman.
After failing to convince John Jones, Shiller proposed going after a person named Victor Stone. This guy had a steel body, an augmented cyborg, not as strong as Superman, but he should be able to lift Capitol Hill.
Soon, through the internal system, they located Victor Stone's residence, crouched around the neighborhood for half a day, finally waiting for Victor to head out. Shiller led the team personally to search his residence.
"He lost his mother in a car accident," said the A.R.G.U.S. agent in charge of background information investigation, "He himself seems severely injured as well. Part of the insurance covered it, the rest was his own responsibility."
Meanwhile, Shiller opened the innermost room's door and immediately saw the phone on the table. He put on gloves, picked up the phone, then said, "Technical personnel come here and see if this phone still works, and what the number is, then we'll call this phone later. Perhaps it could evoke his longing for relatives."