In the end, Arya and I came to an agreement. She, too, was an "isekai" like myself, having died in a war she wasn't keen to talk about, and sometimes wondered if she'd ended up in her own orcish version of Valhalla.

This world was somewhat reminiscent of my old one. While there were no world wars, constant conflicts simmered all over the globe every day. Here, there were superheroes who worked for local corporations, and supervillains who played the part of adorable street thugs. Both were called "igigs." At first, I cringed at the word, but one night, I heard Arya laughing and understood. Iggig-iggie-iggig - the word definitely inspired terror and respect.

We gathered information about this world and settled in. I received our allotted insurance: almost a million of the local currency. It seemed impressive at first, considering they sold shawarmas for twenty cents down the street. However, once I tallied our expenses, it became evident that our funds would only suffice for a year or two if we planned to achieve anything here. Afterwards, we'd have to enroll in university, and the remainder of our compensation would burn twice as fast. When I realized this, I began seeking ways to earn extra money.

Arya had suggested that they become mercenaries, considering they were in this unfamiliar world collecting artifacts in some dark fragments. However, during the night, my little sister would transform into a huge and terrifying orc that didn't care about any boundaries. During the day, she would turn back into a blonde angel in a wheelchair. As for me, I wasn't certain I could make a name for myself in a world of supermen and batmen... but the thought made me smile. With my surname Mouse and no igig abilities, the superpower of "money" could really work for me. Though, I knew that it wouldn't come easy.

Despite my doubts, things were starting to look up. I walked around the area, comparing what was available here versus what we were accustomed to in our own world. I then took half of my compensation and invested almost every penny in a small venture that should finally pay off today.

"And this is ours?" Arya asked as she handed me a piece of paper.

We stood on the edge of the road, gazing at a newly opened hair salon with a modest name "Don't Eat". The large windows and ample lighting made the building stand out from the general grayness of the surroundings.

"Yes, it's ours," I nodded proudly. "There used to be a bar here owned by 'Happiness', but after the massacre, they decided to shut down the business in our area. I bought it and did some repairs..."

"Why should people come here instead of going to corporate hair salons?" Arya asked, pointing to the prices on the stand at the entrance. Almost one and a half dollars for a haircut, while corporate stylists could tidy up hair for thirty cents.

"I don't just sell haircuts, I sell pride in oneself," I said, smiling as the pensive man in the sharp suit hesitated by the entrance, before confidently walking in. "See, corporations just cut hair. But here, he'll be greeted by a lovely girl at the entrance who will genuinely be happy to see him, a complimentary cup of coffee, a hair wash... and yes, the exact same haircut. But with us, he'll feel completely different."

"But corporations also offer hair washing," Arya handed me a new piece of paper.

"For a fee! And in a sink!" I pointed my finger. "But here, it's on the house, and just look at the special chairs and sinks I had ordered."

"Not on the house, but at the expense of outrageously inflated prices," Arya argued.

"Perhaps," I didn't bother to argue.

In the end, even with all the expenses factored in, I was still in the black. Unconventional furniture for this world, coffee, a few cleaners, a student at the front desk, and several other items listed under the "credit" column - it all had to pay off as long as people were willing to pay... And judging by the smile on my first client's face, they would. In a world where corporations had grown accustomed to people not having a choice, I could truly offer everyone something unique.

After sending Arya home, I headed over to "Don't Eat," a place where I had recently opened a salon. As I sat down on the guest sofa, I observed people passing by with caution, almost as if they couldn't believe a place like this was available to ordinary city dwellers. However, once they realized it was indeed for them, they walked in with a sense of excitement. The employees, who were all smiles, had already calculated their earnings for the day based on the number of clients they had served and the amount of money left as tips. It was heartening to see them satisfied with their jobs, and I almost missed the moment, lost in thought.

Suddenly, the pleasant ringing of the doorbell was interrupted by a burly, sweaty man in a tight leather jacket, sporting a crooked beard and a gun sticking out of his belt. He blocked the passage right in front of me, and I knew he was the one I was waiting for. Unfortunately, gangs in the area had been keeping a close eye on our successful start, and they decided to pay us a visit.

The employees tensed up immediately; they knew that gangs never held back. Unlike a corporation that could count on superhero teams for help, we were just ordinary people, which meant that we were on our own.

The leather man attempted to push me aside, saying, "Get out of the way, kid. I need the boss." But I calmly returned to the same spot, replying, "I'm the boss."

He hesitated for a moment, but then returned to his usual course. "You're on our territory. We usually leave ten cents to the establishment for a haircut. You're new, so we'll let you leave twenty."

However, I objected, "We usually charge thirty for haircuts, so we have slightly different prices."

"We're not going to change the system," the leather man shrugged, not caring about my problems or those of everyone who worked at the salon. He was just following orders to put the newcomers in their place.

"Then we're refusing," I shrugged. "But to be honest, we would have refused anyway."

"You don't seem to realize who you're dealing with here," the leather man's fists crackled with flames.

"Igig-igig," I cocked my head to the side and mimicked Arya's laughter.

My imitation must have been convincing because the leather man hesitated. He swung his flaming fist at me, and there was a sound of breaking glass. The gangster stumbled and fell, looking surprised as he scratched his rear end.

***

Savik, a seasoned police officer of thirty years, never relished responding to calls in impoverished neighborhoods. These were the places where the most heinous acts occurred. For some reason, even the criminals tried to maintain a façade of respectability with the upper class, but in these neighborhoods, they unleashed their darkest impulses, leaving behind piles of corpses.

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However, today was a complete departure from the norm. To begin with, no one was killed. Then, none of the locals were harmed, and instead, one of the "Red Lights" was expertly subdued and left lying in a puddle on the asphalt next to a new, brightly lit store. The wetness caused him to frequently contort his neck and spit.

"Finally," an unfamiliar young man greeted Savik. "We've been waiting for you for an hour."

"It's business as usual," Savik shrugged, before proceeding to take down witness accounts.

With each explanation, the situation seemed to grow more perplexing, as it was far from standard operating procedure.

"So, you knew they were coming for you?..."

"Yes."

"And so, you hired a veteran soldier, gave him elephant aphrodisiac, a sniper rifle, and posted him on the nearby rooftop?"

"Bandits often have antidotes for sleeping pills..."

"And how was the aphrodisiac supposed to help?"

"Well, imagine being stimulated like an elephant? Not every organism can withstand that."

"And you took advantage of the opportunity to tie up the offender? He didn't get a chance to do anything to you?"

"He didn't have the time. He seems to be completely out of it still."

Savik gazed once more at the restrained criminal, whose trousers were creased in a conspicuous manner, and whose expression conveyed nothing but an unceasing sorrow at his failure to fulfill his desires. A fleeting notion occurred to Savik that in his present condition, the "Red Light" would betray anyone, including his own bosses or even the notorious Cat-lady herself.

"Thanks for your cooperation," Savik said as he shook the young man's hand. "But please, exercise caution when dealing with unknown substances in the future."

"Absolutely," the guy replied, though his appearance made it abundantly clear that he was unlikely to heed Savik's advice.

***

The first day on the job proved to be quite tiring. Between dealing with the first criminal, conversing with the police, and providing a bonus to Kuzmich, my veteran employee, I was ready to call it a day. I gave Kuzmich the green light to bring in a few more people, especially the one with connections from Africa. Once I divvied up the profits among all of my employees, I finally headed home.

In the kitchen, Arya greeted me with a prepared note. "I saw everything," she wrote.

"How was it?" I asked.

"You surprised me," she replied, pushing a cup of tea towards me.

Despite her trembling hands and the weight of the cup, Arya's attentive gesture was a pleasant surprise.

"We'll wait a couple of weeks to make sure everything is running smoothly, and then we can start expanding," I said as I made a sausage sandwich.

My gaze wandered over to a shelf holding several small boxes. These boxes were my backup plan for making money. If my idea to open a hair salon stemmed from the lackluster establishments in town, my idea to sell doorknobs came from just that - doorknobs.

On my second day in this world, I realized that our front door lacked a lock. As I was about to order a new one, a police lieutenant knocked on our door and even tried to force it open. But it turned out that the doorknob itself was the lock - an artifact with a temperature sensor that reads the owner's and their family's data to only allow them entry. Although it didn't seem too reliable with its limited sensor readings and susceptibility to hacking, my instinct to tinker with gadgets from my past life kicked in. After ordering a programmer, I was surprised to find that the doorknob worked on the principle of quantum entanglement and created a pair with particles in the hands of the owner and their family members to compare and confirm identity. It was no wonder I couldn't hack it.

Overall, I was convinced that pursuing technology in this world was worth the effort. With some of the compensation we received, I ordered a few servers and custom software package. While the neural modules and artificial intelligence were still relatively unexplored here, they had shown promise in the past. In fact, I wrote a description of the Transformer architecture and posted a job on an exchange, receiving a ready-made code in response. With the arrival of our servers, we could now begin loading information and training our software.

As I excitedly opened a few boxes and admired the shiny rack chassis, I was interrupted by the doorbell. I had been expecting the pizza delivery guy for a celebratory meal with my sister, but no one was in the stairwell. Just as I noticed Arya starting to write something, a sudden feeling of unease washed over me. Without closing the door, I rushed to the kitchen, but before I could react, someone invisible pushed me aside.

To my surprise, a tired-looking man in his fifties materialized in front of me, wearing a rumpled beige coat. He tapped his finger on the wall, causing the doorbell to ring a couple of times again. It was clear that he knew how to manipulate invisibility and electricity. If he was from the "Red Lanterns" and came to avenge his colleague from this morning, it could only be Yurand Kovalsky, the leader of the gang from our district.

I greeted him calmly, surprised that they had come after us so quickly and seriously. "I'm glad you know me," he said, lowering his hands. "Then I suggest we go back to the offer you recklessly refused this morning. By the way, now there are no more discounts, and you'll have to withdraw your statement about Voitsekh, otherwise, you know, a son-in-law in prison is not exactly what I expected from this life."

As it became clear why they wouldn't leave me alone, I cautiously approached Arya's chair and stood behind her without making any sudden movements. "Your proposal sounds reasonable," I said. Kovalsky, however, added a hint of fire to his voice, "Then where's your enthusiasm?" He walked over to the window and pulled the heavy curtains closed, which was the last thing I wanted, especially when the moon was about to appear. "Perhaps it's still too early," I said thoughtfully, then quickly raced towards Arya's room with her stroller, raising the front wheels for speed. "Say something smart, Kovalsky!" I shouted as I went.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the hem of his beige coat soar behind me, and then a crazed schoolboy on a scooter rammed into my back. The impact sent me flying five meters across the floor, slamming me into the door frame. Arya was also pushed forward, but the stroller crashed into her bed, leaving her unharmed. A bright streak flashed on the windowsill.

"Kovalsky," I spat out the blood that had accumulated in my mouth. "Can you leave us alone for your own good?"

"No," he had no intention of explaining anything.

"F*** off," I said, smiling and showing my teeth. The bandit snarled and then grabbed me by the chest, slamming me into the wall.

"Man, you need to watch your tongue," his eyes blazed with anger. It seemed like he wasn't used to not being feared.

I didn't bother explaining myself, just lowered my head. But before I could react, a massive green fist slammed into the local version of the Flash with full force. Moonlight illuminated my little sister, who then transformed into her true form. Someone was about to learn the hard way what a real orc was!

***

Kovalsky was exhausted. He wanted to retire and tend to his garden, but not in this barbaric country. That's why he was so frustrated that his son-in-law got caught so foolishly. The man exposed the gang and, worst of all, Kovalsky's dreams and plans. Fortunately, some problems could always be solved with force, especially when his opponents had no protection.

Initially, everything went according to plan. He used the usual tactics to enter someone else's apartment, study the target, and get them riled up. But Kovalsky did not expect to encounter some green monster. The bandit had been an Igig all his life. He could turn invisible, control electricity to some extent, and, most importantly, his spark had strengthened his body, erasing any old childhood fears of getting punched in the face.

"…itch!" The bandit grunted as he took a hit to the jaw, spitting out a tooth.

"Bi..." This time, the blow landed on his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. His enhancements were no help.

Kovalsky attempted to turn invisible, but the green monster quickly detected him and delivered another blow. Perhaps it wasn't worth trying to dodge mid-jump, as it wasn't his typical approach. Nevertheless, Kovalsky acted on instinct, motivated by a deep desire to evade the massive fists. Unfortunately, he ended up getting hit between the legs.

This time, the bandit remained silent, and his consciousness immediately drifted off. After some time, he regained his senses, only to find himself tied up and gagged, while the green monster and the man discussed his fate.

Mouse-boy suggested handing him over to the police after giving him a drink, but the monster disagreed, shaking her ample chest in protest. Undeterred, the man proposed an alternative plan. He had rented a warehouse on the outskirts for business expansion, complete with a good basement, which they could convert into a prison. The bandit could then be turned into a sparring partner, allowing the man to regain his old skills.

The green girl enthusiastically agreed, pointing out that few men could withstand three blows like Kovalsky did. She added that she was losing her edge and needed training. The man concurred, emphasizing that training was everything.

As Kovalsky observed them, the man nodded to the green girl, who approached him, grinning and rubbing her massive fists together. Despite their imposing size, each of her fists was almost as big as his head. With a swift blow, darkness enveloped Kovalsky once more, providing him with the long-awaited peace he craved. Life had a funny way of fulfilling dreams, but not always in the manner one hoped for.