"I don't like being a teacher, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't bother me again in the future! It's better for both sides that way, isn't it?"
Ethan patted Jessica on the shoulder, signaling her to step back, his calm gaze fixed on the four people before him — red light flickering in his eyes.
Charles was slightly taken aback. It was his first time seeing someone who could perfectly control a mutation in their eyes. The man's ability resembled Cyclops's to some extent. After a moment of silence, Charles spoke slowly, "Please don't kill innocents, otherwise—"
Before he could finish, Ethan slammed the door shut. Charles's lips twitched awkwardly. Seeing this, Jean Grey pushed his wheelchair toward the lawn, boarded the invisible Blackbird, and they quickly departed.
Listening to the engine noise fading into the distance, Ethan let out a sigh of relief. He returned to the living room, sat on the sofa, and said softly to the slightly tense Jessica, "Don't worry, we might never run into them again. Go play with Baymax."
"Yes, Boss."
After dinner, Ethan lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, pondering his future. Even eating popcorn while watching drama required money. The best idea he could think of was to wait until Stark Industries' stock dropped, then buy like crazy and live off dividends for the rest of his life — but that required a lot of capital.
The only other way was to sneak into Wakanda and steal ten tons of Vibranium from that prince who literally owned a mine — that would instantly make him one of the world's richest men. But Wakanda's energy shield made it impossible to even find the place.
In the silent night, a few muffled gunshots echoed in the distance. Ethan got out of bed, walked to the window, and gazed at the dark sky. A thought flashed through his mind — rob the rich, help the poor.
Surely those underground gangs wouldn't mind parting with some dirty money for a little karmic redemption. Five minutes later, a shadowy figure slipped away from Sixth Avenue, heading toward Hell's Kitchen.
Jessica stood by the window, frowning as she watched the retreating shadow. That sneaky posture clearly wasn't the stance of someone out to uphold justice.
Ethan sat on a rooftop, watching two gangs fight fiercely below, completely immersed in the chaos, forgetting why he had even come out in the first place.
From a nearby bar burst a large Black man, attacking anyone in sight. The two rival groups, who had just been fighting each other, instantly turned their guns on him.
Rat-tat-tat-tat…
After a storm of bullets, the Black man ripped off his tattered shirt, roared, and charged again. Three minutes later, only he remained standing on the street.
"Go back and tell your bosses — this bar is my turf. If you want to fight, do it somewhere else!" Luke Cage stomped, cracking the concrete beneath him, and glared coldly at the two underlings. "Understand?"
"Y-Yes, sir!"
The two men answered in unison. Luke snorted and went back inside. As the door shut, the fallen men on the ground exhaled in relief, helping each other up, the life-and-death tension gone.
Ethan followed one of the groups from afar into another bar, casually pushed the door open, and instantly took control of everyone inside with his mental power. He strolled up to a burly man, poured himself a drink, released the man's restraint, and said easily, "Buddy, who's your boss? I want to discuss a deal."
"I'm the boss here."
The burly Black man rolled his shoulders, glancing around at his immobilized men. He now had a clear sense of Ethan's power. Speaking more cautiously, he said, "You looking for a job? I can't afford to pay someone like you."
Ethan raised a brow, voice turning cold. "Here's a number — five hundred thousand. Give it to me, and I'll leave. Don't, and I'll send you off instead."
"Wait, wait!" The man raised his hands helplessly. "Brother, you got us all wrong. You think a small gang like mine has half a million in cash lying around?"
Ethan's eyes narrowed. The man's heartbeat hadn't changed — he was likely telling the truth. Sensing the cold gaze on him, the burly man swallowed hard. "If you want, I can give you my stash instead…"
"I don't want your stash. Cash. Now."
"Okay! No problem! Whatever you say!"
The man went behind the bar, twisted a wine bottle, and the entire shelf slid open, revealing a safe. After entering the password, he looked at Ethan with a sycophantic smile. "Buddy, the money's all here. Please don't hurt me."
Ethan wrapped the bills in telekinesis, floated them into his backpack, and looked at the man with disappointment before heading for the door.
"Hey, you should hand over that dirty money to the police."
Ethan turned toward the voice. A man in a red bodysuit, holding a cane, stepped out of the alley.
"Matt Murdock," Ethan said mockingly. "How exactly do you plan to stop me?"
The moment his name was spoken, Matt's heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, he lunged forward, trying to take Ethan down. Ethan didn't move. The cane struck his right arm, making a metallic clang.
Matt leapt back, listening carefully. From that brief clash, he knew Ethan wasn't holding a weapon — his body itself was that strong. Matt changed tactics several times, looking for a weakness.
"You're a mutant?"
A minute later, Matt's tone was firm. Ethan shrugged and, using telekinesis, flung him into the alley. "Don't bother me again."
Matt tumbled several times and crashed into a trash can. It was the most helpless fight he'd ever experienced — the man hadn't even taken him seriously.
After wandering a few blocks, Ethan returned to Sixth Avenue. Seeing Jessica sitting in the living room, he snapped, "Why are you still up this late?"
"Boss, did you go out doing bad things again?" Jessica frowned like a righteous detective confronting evil.
Ethan went to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water, and threw the cash from tonight onto the floor. "What, do you think we don't need to eat? It's money from a small gang. If you've got a problem with it, feel free to give it back."
"Hehe, Boss, you've got me wrong," Jessica said with a grin, crouching down to stuff a few stacks of bills into her clothes. "Next time, please take me with you! Dirty, heavy work like carrying cash shouldn't trouble you, Boss!"
Ethan rolled his eyes and stored the money back into his system backpack. Watching the bills vanish into thin air, Jessica's eyes flashed with regret — she clenched her pocket tighter, determined to deny everything later.
"Alright, go to bed. Tomorrow, get out there and find a job. If you can't pay rent next month, you're out!"
Ethan gave her a sharp glare and headed upstairs. Once his footsteps faded, Jessica pulled out the money she'd secretly kept, her eyes curving into delighted crescents.