"You can't always rely on me to find you practical combat opportunities or get you into special places," Matthew said with a bombshell of a statement.

"I don’t!" Nemo reflexively denied.

"Yes, you do. My private territory, Grimm Tower, the charity gala, the Carnation Community, the Navy hospital ship, the offshore negotiation room, and more that you'll see later. On the other hand, the places you usually visit are the ones regular folks like: budget supermarkets, Chinese restaurants, public libraries, and cheap rental apartments where people live. If danger is lurking there every day, who would dare to approach? Even if you do happen to encounter a terrorist attack in your usual environment, how much time will you need to disguise yourself and break through the blockade lines and crowds to get to the bad guys, assuming they haven’t self-destructed or been shot by the anti-terrorism squad?"

The billionaire kept speaking without pause, and Nemo marveled at how good his lung capacity was.

"Is there a better way to practice controlling your powers and getting stronger than becoming a superhero? You can freely choose suitable opponents from 911 calls and police channels, train infiltration skills through forum requests, and wear safety gear throughout the process, carrying carefully crafted handy weapons—not the rough ice pick. That time when you got shot in the chest really scared me."

"You have a point, I’m thinking it through," Nemo said, feeling a bit dizzy. He needed to calm down.

The military-industrial mogul began lecturing Nemo seriously: "You know you can’t just wait until your equipment and weapons break to replace them, right? Just like how safety ropes lose their original load-bearing capacity after being scratched, fighter jet engines have fixed lifespans, and missiles have expiration dates. You may not see it on the surface, but the material deteriorates with usage and impact. These need professional testing and regular updates to avoid fatal gaps during practical combat."

"I’ve seen similar limitations in the online games I play. I always remember to bring backup weapons and check if the enhancements provided by my equipment are suitable for the current enemy. In addition, I keep track of the effectiveness duration of potions and poisons after use," the curly-haired young man spoke expertly when it came to gear.

Matthew seemed deeply moved; they had actually reached an immediate consensus.

"How many discreet bulletproof vests and hidden blades do you want? I can make them for you. But if you keep trying to fight using your chef bodyguard identity to sneak by, do reporters really all have blindfolds on? Are public and private surveillance cameras just for fun? Do you have the luxury of always sparing the enemy just to pretend you’re an ordinary person? How will you explain carrying top-tier military-grade equipment to the police and the public? If you’re a superhero, no one cares how you dress, just say ‘Danger, please avoid the area,’ and the police will even help you evacuate the civilians."

Nemo’s past combat record was so poor that once Matthew started critiquing it, he couldn't stop.

"To sum it up—be prepared for practical combat. Going all in as a superhero can bring many conveniences. Behaviors that ordinary people can’t or shouldn’t do are no problem for a superhero, and it can also cover up the inconveniences and risks of being a superpowered individual," Nemo concluded the main point.

"I'm glad you finally understand. So, will you agree to become a superhero? I need to hear you make a personal promise," Matthew said, grabbing Nemo’s shoulder and shaking it happily.

"Don’t I need to sign a contract or something?" Nemo was feeling even dizzier from the shaking.

"Of course not, you’re free. I’m just the sponsor of superheroes, but you’re too sly. With me as a witness, at least you’ll hesitate before slapping yourself in the face."

"I remember that ‘hero’ and ‘vigilante’ are different terms. I might prefer to adapt to the latter," Nemo said.

"Actually, these two can overlap, even frequently being almost the same. It depends on public preference, as well as the factions of villain heroes and anti-heroes." Matthew now looked like a life insurance salesman—only the savings plan wasn’t enough? How about adding cancer and accident insurance as well? Plus, a smile that could mesmerize you to death.

"Fine! I agree to be your so-called superhero." Nemo knew that the gym and virtual training were just creating the minimum physical condition for him, possibly not even enough to graduate from the newbie village, but it was only a level 1 daily mission.

Thanks to Matthew, the high-level player providing the training space, Nemo had managed to barely overlevel and succeed in monster hunting, just like the combat at the Carnation Community. Each real-life adventure allowed his superpowers to change and shifted his mindset.

But, as Matthew said, without preparation, diving straight into combat would easily lead to death or being captured as prey. At best, it would result in his real identity being exposed, leading to a social death. Not to mention that some acts of heroism were federal crimes, and they would still result in prosecution and jail time.

"If the superhero community you know has unwritten rules against interfering in human wars, I might temporarily betray you in the future. Although I'm not really a superhero, I’m just giving a heads-up—I want to participate in the Taiwan War of Independence. Unless it's the apocalypse, this matter takes precedence over superhero-related issues," Nemo emphasized.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"Don’t worry, there’s no such rule. But it's better not to act impulsively. You should communicate your personal plans in advance for long-distance operations so we can arrange substitutes, in case a team collaboration requires you but we can’t find anyone. After all, you’re the type of support hero we lack the most," Matthew responded.

Nemo believed Matthew wasn’t just being polite. The last time a kaiju landed on the East Coast, all the superheroes who dared to join the battle focused solely on damage output, with no one managing the situation. Everyone was acting as a DD*, which resulted in a monstrous bloodbath and a subsequent water pollution disaster.

If it had been Nemo, he would’ve tried to lure the kaiju to a less populated shore, identified a vulnerable spot like the brain stem, and called for concentrated fire, and called in the air force to assist. But during that battle on the East Coast, the superheroes didn’t even try to concentrate their attacks. It was obvious there were too many rookies lacking strategic and tactical awareness.

"That’s obvious," Nemo said. Even before his transmigration, he had strong work ethics as a part-time worker and had never skipped out on a shift. Upon his arrival in the United States of this parallel world, The boss couple were overly kind to him, making it easy to take leave, but Nemo still worked hard to return the favor for their care.

"You might as well ask the superheroes you know to form at least a five-person team and practice teamwork in WoW dungeons. It’s an old game, follow the guides and you’ll definitely get the hang of it quickly," Nemo wasn’t suggesting it because he was good at games; it was simply the most efficient way to practice teamwork on a budget, and no one could use the excuse of living far away to avoid training.

"The disparity in personal preferences among superheroes is considerable; I’m afraid it’s hard to form a team," Matthew said regretfully.

"Yeah, I was thinking too idealistically," Nemo admitted. Unless they were survival game enthusiasts or part of special forces, regular people wouldn't have practical combat experience or team-based combat skills before gaining superpowers. Online games were probably the closest form of interaction.

To assemble a group of superpowered individuals with different personalities, abilities, identities, genders, and even nationalities would be a challenge. It was likely that superheroes would struggle in group attacks, doing their best not to hurt their allies.

"Now that you’ve agreed to join, let’s decide on your official codename!" Matthew finally revealed his cunning intentions.

"Johnny, Mike, Jack, Paul... ah, Mike is already taken by someone I know, delete that one. The more 'nobody' it is, the better," Nemo listed names.

"Do you know that such codenames actually stand out more on superhero rankings?" Matthew looked at him with pity.

Nemo realized Matthew was right. His shame tolerance wasn’t high enough to handle any codename that looked too heroic. He might even have to introduce himself by it! Maybe he should check the rankings first, find inspiration, and pick a codename that was unusual but not too odd—maybe something like "Curly-haired Man" to follow in the footsteps of a hero named "Long-haired Girl." If the codename sounded like a girl, people would pay attention; no one would bother with a stinky man!

Just in case, he should check the rankings again to avoid missing a more ideal example.

Matthew could tell from Nemo’s expression that he was thinking exactly that. Moreover, the little chef had muttered out several superhero codenames, clearly intending to fish for ideas.

With a wicked grin, Matthew reminded him, "You already have a fixed codename from your previous vigilante group."

Please don’t let it be ‘Captain XX,’ Nemo shouted in his mind.

"What about exposing my old group's identity? After all, I was tortured by enemies, so at least I'm no longer a secret to them," Nemo wondered aloud.

"The drug cartel that kidnapped you has been taken out by the mysterious person who saved you. Also, we’re not sure how much of your identity was exposed when you were betrayed—was it your full identity and life, or just your whereabouts? Giving up your memory to protect your comrades is a good thing, but what if there are others who want to find you and need your help? If they voluntarily identify themselves, it shouldn’t be considered a violation," Matthew mused, stroking his chin. "Maybe this could be a good trial route, also aligning with both my and that person’s goals."

"You guys just want to use my codename to lure more members from my old group," Nemo said defensively.

"Am I a bad guy? You entrusted Angie’s situation to me, but you want to sever ties so cleanly with your old group members? What if the enemies use your old codename to fish for information? If there are two people using the same codename, your former teammates would be more cautious," Matthew patiently advised, especially the last part, which clearly made Nemo hesitate.

" Did you forget what I said earlier on? Before we found you, we already discovered five dead members. That doesn’t even count the bodies we haven’t found yet. Your forgotten comrades will continue to suffer and die alone or due to lack of preparation. If they’re willing to ask for your codename’s help, isn’t that the very purpose of you becoming a superhero?" Matthew said.

Nemo had always taken a laid-back attitude toward his predecessor's past, after all, he had borrowed someone else's body and experiences, some good, some bad. However, he decided that once he encountered matters related to the previous Nemo, he would take full responsibility for addressing them, including the strange anger he felt when listening to Tolya recount past events. That was evidence of "Vigilante Nemo" reminding him not to forget his mission.

So, it wasn’t as simple as claiming his soul was different because of transmigration. Perhaps, because of some fundamental similarities, he had been transported into this Nemo’s body and lost his original name.

Were the previous Nemo and he really two different people? Either way, the Nemo standing here now had no intention of abandoning the past life of this body. After all, he hadn’t had many special existences before his transmigration.

Everything about this Nemo was "his." Anyone who tried to harm or steal it would become his enemy.

"Your original codename is very fitting. Don’t worry about being recognized. Any comrades who truly know your former vigilante identity would have other ways to identify you. You all tend to choose very common, unremarkable codenames, even literal ones like 'Janitor,' 'Communications Officer,' or 'Host,'" Matthew said, laughing at himself as well.

"Do you think your friend will be happy if I use my old codename again? So that person can call me by my old name without me knowing," Nemo said, not even trying to guess—Matthew didn’t hide it. Although he claimed to keep it secret, as soon as he had the chance, the rich tycoon would always sneak in that person's presence.

"This is my selfishness, unrelated to that person. All I want to do is give a little gift to that person, who doesn’t ask for anything, except to find you. This is all I can do," Matthew said, his expression joyful, as if he was somewhat helpless even as the world's richest man.

People who valued friendship were hard to dislike, and for Nemo, friendship was the only concept of emotion he truly grasped. Since arriving in this parallel world, he had experienced a lot more, while family and love were completely foreign to him.

"Alright, let’s do it! But don’t tell me now, we’ll settle the codename later." That way, Nemo could avoid it for a while, at least until he overcame his mental block with superhero suits. Weapons could be discussed upfront.

"I’m going full throttle to prepare your gear and weapons now, make a detailed list of your needs, the more specific, the better!" Matthew said, lifting Nemo and spinning around.

"Let go! What are you doing?" Nemo angrily slapped his shoulder.

"You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment! Nemo Captain, I’ve just taken a giant leap to the moon!" Matthew said, laughing wildly.

"What does that have to do with hugging me?"

"Last time, when my R&D team made a major breakthrough, I hugged every woman, slapped every man’s butt, and gave the main contributor a passionate kiss. By the way, he’s a guy! But I think you definitely can’t handle the last two!"

"Why hasn’t anyone reported you for workplace harassment?" Nemo despised this world that judged by appearances.

"You're kidding me! The guy I kissed responded even more fiercely, and he’s got a wife and kids. They show off their love every day. Even women with wives are grabbing my butt, and the men surround me to do a striptease dance. Science needs more passion!" Matthew replied with a grin.

Nemo struggled in vain, realizing that the American research about personal space and same-sex physical contact didn’t account for how crazy and perverse Americans could get!

*Damage dealer: a gaming term for those who focus on dealing damage.