One luxury car after another, carrying high-profile celebrities, entered the Carnation Community. The sight of multiple layers of electrified barbed wire triggered visible unease among the passengers, though they seemed to relax slightly upon passing through the heavily guarded checkpoints, manned by soldiers with a stern demeanor.

In the ceremony venue, a repurposed old library, the governor of Louisiana, along with officials and legislators, greeted the guests. Armed members of the National Guard stationed throughout emphasized the absolute security of this rehabilitation center for the Green-afflicted patients. The elegant classical architecture soothed the uneasiness of the wealthy visitors, evoking an atmosphere of upper-class sophistication and opportunism they were all too familiar with.

The mere news that Matthew Grimm would be delivering the opening speech was enough to draw more than half of the guests. The looming threats of giant mutant mosquitoes and the Greens—a new species of the infected—made attending worthwhile. Even if they couldn’t profit directly, at the very least, they could establish connections with the wealthiest man alive and secure a coveted spot on the medical Ark.

What especially piqued their interest was the rumored use of superpowered individuals and Fragments in specialized treatments—services that were inaccessible even to the most powerful and affluent. Since the Meteor Shower Event, Matthew Grimm had maintained a clear stance: he was a generous and patriotic philanthropist who didn’t care who sat in the Oval Office, as long as they didn’t obstruct his path.

When it came to biological threats, not even the most elite bodyguards could shield against dangers like the novel coronavirus, which had afflicted world leaders and magnates alike. That malicious little troublemaker could bypass all layers of protection and even infect the guards themselves.

“What if one day your secretary hands you a coffee, and a sharp-toothed worm suddenly bursts out of their mouth and burrows into your body? That’s terrifying as hell!” complained a tech company CEO while repeatedly replaying a clip from the Beelzebub Files.

“Just coffee? Man, you’re such a sweetheart! What if it happens during a kiss—or something even more intimate? Lately, I’ve been sticking to meditating with my Zen master,” his business partner retorted.

“Why would you make me aware of such a horrifying risk?” the former exclaimed, muttering a string of expletives before sorrowfully covering his face. “Tell me how to contact your Zen master!”

“Hold on a minute,” another guy jumped in, his expression shifting as a thought struck him. “I just figured it out—my wife hasn’t let me get near her lately. I thought she was cheating!”

“Buddy, we don’t want to hear about your domestic drama. Do you want to sign up for the meditation group together? Honestly, I don’t even feel comfortable entering one-on-one private spaces anymore.”

“Sure! Add me on Twitter first!”

As Matthew arrived, flanked by security convoys at both front and rear, his gold-and-green concept sports car—capable of short-distance flight and vertical takeoff—stole the show. The flash of photographers’ cameras and the frenzied clicks of the guests’ phones captured every moment. This dazzling color could only remind the world of one man.

The only other passenger in the car with him was someone everyone recognized: Matthew’s current favorite bodyguard and close friend, Nemo.

Despite Matthew already cycling through two girlfriends, his camaraderie with Nemo seemed to grow ever stronger. Nemo, when facing interviews from reporters, has openly declared that he is heterosexual and only wishes to work honestly, earn a living, and focus on his life without considering romance for the time being. He aspires to settle down as an upright and respectable American citizen. His introverted demeanor, almost exuding an aura of saintliness, stands in stark contrast to the flamboyant playboy millionaire.

For years, the world's richest man, recently bereaved, had lived a life of leisure, yet he had never had a special friend who, despite saving his life, treated him as an ordinary person. Matthew often called Nemo his "little brother," even in jest, but the underlying protective message was clear: "Don't mess with my family."

After the interviews were seen by the public, it seemed that the reason Matthew valued this young lifesaver so deeply was understood. For once, the media refrained from stirring the pot with ambiguity and unanimously celebrated this rare, cross-class friendship.

Matthew’s other bodyguards formed a protective formation around the pair as Nemo stepped out of the car, realizing too late that he had fallen into one of Matthew’s tricks. No matter how hard he tried to take his internship as a bodyguard seriously, walking beside the towering billionaire with his arm around his neck made him look like he was cosplaying.

Damn you, Matthew Grimm!

“You’re way too obsessed with the Grimm Group’s signature color. When this flying car unfolds its wings, it’ll look just like a scarab beetle. Black would’ve been way cooler,” Nemo muttered under his breath, partly out of revenge, while trying discreetly to pull Matthew’s arm off without drawing attention.

Matthew tightened his arm around Nemo’s shoulders and retorted smugly, “Tell those Hollywood directors to paint the Batmobile gold-green in their next movie, and I’ll consider changing. If you compromise on personal branding, it’s just copying!”

So you actually agree that black is cooler? Nemo gave up on correcting the billionaire’s distorted values.

The opening ceremony proceeded smoothly. Matthew’s speech, 87%* similar to the one he gave at a recent charity gala, differed mainly in its length and inclusion of a Q&A session.

This time, the priority for questions wasn’t given to the media but to business owners and executives from various industries. The questions were more professional, and Matthew answered them one by one. For overly sensitive topics, he confidently declared them trade secrets for now. He promised his support for the Green Treatment Program and proposed a vision for rebuilding communities, urging partners to join in creating better facilities for accommodating patients. The governor’s smile grew wider by the second.

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After the speech, guests were divided into small groups by lottery. Escorted by the National Guard, they boarded minibuses to tour various parts of the Carnation Community.

The wealthy visitors lamented the dilapidated and desolate state of the community and unanimously agreed that the environment was unsuitable for housing large numbers of patients. Immediate renovations were deemed necessary. At just the right moment, the governor’s special assistants handed out brochures detailing various BOT partnership opportunities, inviting the guests to pick their preferred projects.

The guests were escorted to designated areas for a visit, which included dormitories housing Green-afflicted families and individuals. The homes had been carefully renovated and tastefully decorated. The patients selected for interaction were those with the least severe symptoms, capable of engaging in polite conversation and offering greetings from a respectful distance. Outwardly, they appeared normal, but their slightly vacant gazes unnerved everyone.

In the meantime, Nemo heard another piece of gossip from Matthew. These mild-symptom Greens had all been given sedatives and anti-anxiety medication beforehand to ensure nothing went wrong. As for patients whose skin was ravaged by severe rotting and inflammation, they were either confined with family members in restricted housing or locked away in private rooms.

All Greens were required to wear electronic tracking devices. Should they stray from their designated living areas, the system would immediately alert the National Guard to apprehend them. For those deemed mentally unstable or particularly aggressive, chips were implanted into their backs—eliminating the possibility of breaking free from wristbands or ankle trackers, or even clawing the devices out themselves.

Matthew's Greens, meanwhile, could swim and write research papers! Nemo glanced at the segregated community members in the recorded video. These patients were acutely conscious of the surveillance cameras and firearms aimed at them, yet they were compelled to maintain an outwardly indifferent demeanor. One could argue that they were perpetually balancing on the delicate boundary between rationality and the limits of their humanity.

Some primal instinct made the visitors want to distance themselves as far as possible from the Greens. However, unwilling to show fear in front of their peers, they gritted their teeth and finished the tour of pre-determined stops, including a bread workshop, candle-making factory, and a handmade soap classroom—facilities that doubled as therapeutic workplaces.

Matthew and Nemo, however, were not part of the sightseeing group. Since Matthew had already declared his intent to invest during his speech, the governor and government officials invited him to the old library’s conference room for high tea and further discussions about their partnership. After all, once the letter of intent was signed, the financier could return to visit anytime without requiring their accompaniment—why not give Grimm the VIP treatment now?

For the first time, Nemo could act like a proper bodyguard, standing behind Matthew and softly requesting permission to test the snacks for poison.

Matthew explained nonchalantly, "Forgive my little brother here; he's always been a bit too serious. I practically had to beg him to agree to be my bodyguard for a day. He finally relented—and as an excellent chef, once he tastes these snacks, he'll even be able to recreate them for me later!"

It was evident that everyone regarded Nemo’s presence as part of Matthew Grimm’s routine antics during his romantic hiatus. A wealthy man bringing a close friend along for entertainment and distraction was nothing to be surprised about. At least Nemo was a man of common sense; he hadn’t been tricked into wearing a Darth Vader costume.

"Of course, we’ve prepared some snacks for Mr. Captain as well," the governor eagerly chimed in, instantly lightening the atmosphere.

Nemo nodded, neither speaking nor taking the seat left vacant beside Matthew. Since he had agreed to act as Matthew’s trainee bodyguard, he would remain on alert, maintaining optimal space for reaction and mobility.

While flipping through the Green patient case files in front of him, Matthew seemed as casual as a diner poking at unappealing salad leaves with a fork. To the onlookers, it seemed like he was just putting on a show. But Nemo knew better—Matthew likely read through every file in detail. With his photographic memory, he could absorb everything in moments. It was also possible Matthew had already obtained duplicates of these records and was simply playing along.

Matthew announced his plan to fund more secure dormitories for the afflicted, as well as a new hydrotherapy center. "From my sources, I’ve learned that Greens respond quite well to water-based treatments," he said with a knowing smile.

The governor, likely having received instructions from the Department of Defense, nodded so enthusiastically it looked like his head might fall off."After all, the kaiju that infected them are aquatic creatures! Greens really seem to love water, but we worry that overindulging this tendency might worsen their condition."

"Oh, I don’t know much about medicine," Matthew replied with a dazzling playboy grin. "I’m in the weapons business. Why not leave those judgments to the experts?"

"Exactly! We in politics don’t understand it either, haha!" The governor sitting across from him was no amateur, clearly experienced in the art of mutual flattery. Most states wanted nothing to do with housing Greens, yet Louisiana’s governor, aiming for a strategic reelection campaign, was determined to transform New Orleans’ tarnished reputation in one fell swoop.

The conversation between the governor and the leader of the Grimm Group unfolded effortlessly, filled with business-friendly exchanges. The first phase of Matthew’s investment plan was finalized in under half an hour. Both parties signed a letter of intent, with the formal contract to be drafted after design plans were complete. Representatives from both sides would negotiate the finer details at Grimm Tower later.

With business concluded, Matthew once again shook hands with the governor. His signature golden eyes twinkled with curiosity and mischief.

"May I take my bodyguard and wander around on my own? I’d love to surprise the others. If there’s anywhere I shouldn’t go, please let me know in advance."

"Of course not, the Carnation Community is 100% safe," the governor replied confidently. "We have surveillance cameras everywhere to prevent unauthorized patient movement. Just in case, would you like me to arrange for a military escort to accompany you?"

"Please, don’t waste precious national resources on me. I already have my own bodyguards. Besides, once inside the community, I feel completely at ease. I simply want to remember what this place looks like now so I can appreciate the progress Grimm Group will bring in the future." Matthew waved his hand dramatically.

"Truly embarrassing—most of Carnation Community consists of locked-up vacant homes that the original owners abandoned without time to tidy up."

"I’ll just take a few souvenir photos!" Matthew looked far from interested in conducting a serious inspection. Everyone assumed he was just bored and restless. To be fair, Matthew Grimm’s speech and cooperative performance earlier had already exceeded expectations.

"In that case, we won’t hold you back from exploring. To be honest, we still have many other guests to entertain. Hopefully, they’ll prove as generous and kind as you." The governor beamed.

"Union, justice, confidence*—these are the reasons Carnation Community can be reborn. We Americans must stand united," Matthew declared boldly.

"YES! YES!" The governor and his officials were so excited they nearly leaped onto the table to chant "USA!" in unison.

Nemo, having witnessed Matthew’s cheerleader prowess firsthand, saw this same impassioned tycoon mysteriously vanish into thin air half an hour later.

Excusing himself for a restroom break, Matthew had given his bodyguards the slip entirely. Nemo, standing guard outside the restroom, was nearly apoplectic with rage.

While Matthew Grimm’s fame and charm might serve as an effective shield in dealings with public officials, it wouldn’t protect him from potential terrorists or assassins lurking among the guests or community members.

Nemo had no authority to order Matthew's bodyguards around, but luckily, they had no authority over him either. Nemo decided to take matters into his own hands.

"I’m going after Matthew. If he wants to play hide-and-seek, I’ll play along!" he informed the head of the bodyguard team.

"My apologies, Mr. Captain. Since Mr. Grimm didn’t specifically instruct us to prioritize your safety, you are, of course, free to act as you see fit," the team leader replied politely.

"I know—I requested this arrangement myself. Just carry on as you usually would." With mutual understanding reached, Nemo watched the bodyguards return to their primary duty of guarding Matthew’s assistants as they continued touring a local stray animal shelter. Carrying his briefcase, the curly-haired young man turned and strode off alone in search of the missing billionaire.

* In Taiwanese, the number 87 is a homophone for "北七" (bé-tshì), which is similar in pronunciation to the word "白癡" (bái chī), meaning "idiot." This kind of language is commonly seen in online and everyday casual speech.

* "UNION, JUSTICE, CONFIDENCE" is the Louisiana state motto. The Pelican State of the Justice League!