The big shift finally arrived. To put it in gaming terms, it’s like reaching the required experience points to level up. Nemo's gunshot wound had fully healed within just a few days, leaving only a pink, circular scar after the scab fell off. His stamina was now even better than before the injury, and his reaction speed had stabilized at a level that Nemo found satisfactory.

After agreeing to become a superhero, Nemo and Matthew began intensive discussions about the details of weapon requirements and design. Most of the time, Nemo stayed in his old apartment—partly because he truly needed rest to recover and reach peak condition for testing his customized weapons, and partly to keep an eye on Tolya and make sure he didn’t relapse into his old habits during this transitional period.

Nemo never brought up the subject of a superhero suit because he truly didn’t want to wear one! Matthew didn’t press the issue either—probably knowing it would be pointless to ask. The wealthy benefactor instead took matters into his own hands.

Nemo decided that if the suit Matthew presented was too outrageous, he would simply reject it outright.

After all, the enemies Nemo initially expected to face were just ordinary violent criminals. A casual outfit and a mask to hide his identity were sufficient. If he couldn’t even avoid the police, what kind of superhero could he be? This was the passive mindset with which Nemo approached his increasingly imminent superhero persona.

When Matthew mysteriously invited Nemo to meet at his office, Nemo knew that the inevitable day had finally arrived.

On the desk lay a superhero suit, complete with long boots and tactical gloves. The ensemble was primarily in black and gray tones with no flashy embellishments.

Matthew held a slim, rectangular wooden box, opening it in front of Nemo to reveal two trident-like metal weapons. The center prongs were notably long, while the shorter, slightly curved side prongs were wide and flat. The outer edges were sharpened, and the inner edges were lined with fine serrations.

What stood out, however, was the unusually thick and heavy grip—a stark contrast to the sleek, assassin-style weapon it was supposed to be. Instead, it looked like it had been fused with the bold design of a two-handed greatsword.

“The modified version of the Ryukyuan traditional weapon 'Sai' that you previously specified,” Matthew said. “Try them out along with the suit to see if they affect your balance. While you specified a 30-cm length for the main prong, I adjusted it to 31.6 cm for better overall handling. With how heavy you insisted the grip should be, you’re nowhere near able to wield them smoothly with your current skills.”

Nemo had turned two trident-like weapons into something akin to unbalanced conductor’s batons, and even Matthew’s ingenuity could only salvage a faint semblance of proper balance. These weapons would probably be more suitable for a muscle-bound grill master skewering steaks than for combat.

That said, Nemo had proven deadly with just an ice pick—there was no doubt he could turn these oversized BBQ forks into lethal tools.

“My goal isn’t to duel ninja masters,” Nemo said. “The main prong is for targeting the brains and nerve clusters of monsters or infected individuals. The side prongs double as knives, with the serrated edges designed to break enemy blades during parries or cut through ropes. The grip is my primary weapon for smashing windows or knocking out ordinary criminals—it’s far more practical than the butt of a gun!”

Nemo’s design was entirely based on his personal needs. As for balance issues? He would simply rely on his superpowers to compensate.

“Besides, these sai are just prototypes. It’s not like I can’t switch to other improved versions later.” Nemo had no interest in Matthew’s vision of the ideal weapon—he was determined to use something that felt right in his hands.

“As long as you’re happy,” The president of the Grimm Group, known for his independent ways, rarely experienced the pain of designers—“The customer is always right,” no matter how ridiculous or eye-sore the demands, you still have to deliver and make it all seem feasible!

Still, the reward was worth enduring the thorns of the process.

“I know you prefer a low-profile look, so I added a hood,” Matthew said. “Go change in the lounge—or, if you prefer, change here, and I can time how quickly you can put it on and take it off.”

The moment of truth had arrived: Nemo could no longer avoid wearing a superhero suit. Matthew struggled to suppress the urge to laugh maniacally.

Nemo picked up the long top—or rather, a coat without a zipper. Surprisingly, it fit snugly without being tight, providing enough room to conceal small tools and hidden weapons.

“Is the length of the hem really necessary?” Nemo asked. It was split into three panels, allowing his sai to hang from his waist while the hem reached just above the backs of his knees.

“If you want to show off more of your thighs and hips, I can make adjustments—” Matthew deflected the question with a quick jab at Nemo’s sai before continuing. “As an Asian, you’re already going to stand out among superheroes, so there’s no hiding that. Think of it like a magician’s sleight of hand: the design draws attention during attacks, distracts enemies, and muddles witnesses’ memory of your build. It even adds some concealment when facing cameras.”

Nemo’s criticisms were sharp, but Matthew could tell he didn’t truly dislike the suit.

When the curly-haired young man pinched the black, form-fitting pants between his fingers, Matthew spoke before Nemo could protest. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss them! Feel the material! It’s made from the same bulletproof fabric as your shirts, just with a leather-like surface to disguise it. Every inch of this material is worth a fortune. If the fit is too loose, its protective properties would drop significantly!”

Matthew was a master of pushing boundaries. By first giving Nemo a top he liked, sneaking in the tight pants became much easier. Besides, the bulletproof functionality was a valid argument.

“Can’t I switch to sandals instead?” Nemo asked, holding the long boots with an unfamiliar grip. He could swear, with full confidence, that neither this life nor the previous Nemo had ever worn boots.

"The soles are designed to resist high-voltage electricity. If you're ever in a life-or-death situation and can't escape, just cut a wire, wet the ground, and take a gamble with your opponent!" Matthew continued, "Canine animals love to bite human feet, and we might encounter similar small monsters in the future. Being injured isn't the issue—it's the fear of infection from something untreatable. If you use your feet to attack, the protection will actually enhance your lethality. Besides, I don't want you wearing sandals and stepping on ground full of maggots and contaminated bodily fluids."

The weapon itself, of course, was designed to be insulated—after all, Nemo definitely didn't want to be holding two lightning rods in a rainstorm, turning himself into the Flash.

Matthew silently thanked the salespeople at jewelry and high-end fashion stores for their excellent demonstrations when accompanying his ex-girlfriends.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Alright, fine! Anyway, the boots can hide hidden weapons," Nemo finally conceded, after considering that sandals wouldn't be safe.

"Hurry up and change, we've still got to go to the experimental zone to check the effectiveness of other gadgets and the suit's performance!"

Reluctantly, Nemo grabbed the pile of gear and headed to the lounge to change. He knew that this was the result of Matthew’s ingenuity, intellect, and countless resources—before the priority of survival and secrecy, beauty and shame had to be cast aside.

After some rustling, Nemo boldly returned to the office, now suited up in the superhero gear. Matthew, ever the gentleman, clapped his hands.

"How does it feel?"

"It’s way more restrictive than a suit," Nemo’s first impression was blunt. He had thought he would be embarrassed, but after putting on the gear, he realized that the discomfort outweighed any shame. The thought of wearing such constricting battle gear regularly—or for long periods—gave him a headache.

And, it was summer in a southern U.S. port city.

Remembering how Matthew wore a suit to work every day, occasionally freeing himself from wearing underwear to work (a souvenir incident from when he was dating Angie), only to be criticized by Nemo, he suddenly felt a little sorry for the billionaire.

"You've gotten too used to being casual, wearing pajamas at home and sportswear to headquarters," Matthew sighed.

"You asked me to come here to work out!"

"True, and I never said you were dressed wrong. You should know, almost everyone who comes to see me, regardless of gender, wears the most thoughtful 'battle gear' they can find. These are ordinary people without superpowers—they don’t think about discomfort. It’s about important battles," Matthew said, attempting to be educational. "So, what's your objective feedback?"

"If I ever face a gun-wielding robber again, I feel safer and more confident fighting in this, instead of relying solely on my powers to enter a combat state," Nemo replied honestly. "The suit fits well, and even the boots are lighter than I imagined. It should be convenient for movement, including climbing and jumping."

"When you first entered the virtual training room, the AI had already created a full-body 3D model for you! Every training session updates the data to three decimal places of accuracy. Although I could tell your underwear size without the AI, the uniform still needs to be carefully crafted using scientific measurements. There won’t be any amateur mistakes with the crotch area being too tight, too loose, or uncomfortable—guaranteeing the perfect fit."

It would have been enough to explain normally, but Matthew just had to slip in a comment that made Nemo want to punch him in the head.

The billionaire led him into the dressing room, where Nemo could see the suit's effect in the full-length mirror. Wait a minute—why had Matthew told him to change in the lounge earlier? Surely the office had an adjoining dressing room. Maybe the lounge was mirrorless, and Matthew didn't want Nemo to bolt mid-change?

"Doesn't this look cool?" Matthew asked, leaning against the wall by the mirror. "If you're too self-conscious about the fit in the crotch area, I can always add a little skirt for you."

Nemo considered evolving into a person with ten middle fingers.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, where a stranger stared back—a version of himself hidden beneath the shadow of the hood, looking like a background character from a video game. He was "unnoticeable" because this entire superhero suit, designed purely for practicality, had no symbols or extra adornments. In a flashy, appearance-driven battle game, he would definitely be overlooked as a low-tier character.

Nemo stressed: in the game world. Reality was another matter entirely.

"Alright, Narcissus, don’t get lost staring at your reflection. We’ve got two more pieces of gear to go," Matthew said, taking a helmet with transparent goggles and a tactical belt with two circular loops and various weapon slots out of the cabinet.

The belt was exactly what Nemo needed, as he had specified other throwable weapons and hidden tools. But the helmet with goggles… that was something he wasn’t sure he could handle.

"I’m not wearing that thing and letting the press take photos! A mask is enough!"

"Eyes are the window to the soul, I’ve told you that more than once. The more exposed you are, the more recognizable you’ll be," Matthew replied, continuing his argument. "A full helmet can be stifling, and the mask affects your breathing rate during physical activity. That’s why many superheroes only cover their upper face. The ones who wear full helmets either have evolved respiratory systems or they’re from other species!" Matthew said, pulling off Nemo’s hood and demonstrating how to wear the net-like helmet.

It wasn’t really a helmet, but more like a dreamcatcher made of metal mesh. Nemo and Matthew could unlock it with their fingerprints. Once worn, the helmet tightened around Nemo’s head, with his short hair sticking out through the large mesh holes.

"Consider this a substitute for head protection. It can block a heavy blow from a metal bat or katana, protecting your skull, though the impact force will still be absorbed by you. Your specialty is dodging, but during your growth phase, I’ll insist on safety gear, even if it compromises lightweight design," Matthew explained.

"Feels like a metal spider is grabbing my head," Nemo commented, not entirely convinced.

"The goggles feature 360-degree, no-dead-angle night vision and battlefield projection functions. Of course, they’re bulletproof! The exoskeleton half-helmet design protects your head without hindering movement. This is a new product I’ve been developing since before the Meteor Shower Event; it was originally intended for special forces. With your current combat abilities being close to that of an average person, you’re the perfect candidate to test it," Matthew explained, practically showing off his secret project to Nemo.

Matthew lowered the goggles, and immediately, Nemo’s vision was covered by a flurry of intricate lines and numbers, while a map of the building across the street and the green dots of pedestrians clearly appeared. Was this connected to the Grimm Tower’s surveillance system?

"Protect your eyes. You’re relying on your vision for combat right now, and when you engage robbers, you tend to prioritize targeting the eyes. The most important thing is, when you're fighting alongside other superheroes, you’ll really need this," Matthew continued.

"What about normally? I only need to cover my identity or use night vision when dealing with regular robbers," Nemo asked.

"By adjusting the contact time on the fingerprint sensor and the number of key presses, you can change the display color or activate basic functions. If you need more online support, you can also connect to my system. Basically, when you act as a superhero, we’ll be communicating through the helmet, not a phone. That way, you’ll have both hands free!" Matthew pulled Nemo’s hood back over his head, covering the helmet and most of the goggles.

"See? It’s '畫龍點睛*.'"

"Honestly, how long did you have to look up that Chinese idiom?" Nemo couldn't help but twitch his lips when he heard Matthew speak in Chinese.

"I just asked my assistant how to use Chinese to compliment a newly completed artwork, and they told me," Matthew replied nonchalantly.

It completely slipped Nemo’s mind that Matthew, as a big boss, had a team of multi-functional assistants working for him.

The two returned to the office, where Matthew had Nemo attach the Sai weapons to the belt’s loops. The magnets near the handles automatically attracted the round rings, ensuring that even if Nemo did a somersault or jumped around, the weapons wouldn’t fall off, allowing him to easily draw the Sai for combat at any time.

"Alright, fully geared up. How does it feel? Too heavy?" Matthew asked.

"Extremely constricting."

"…You’ll get used to it. You need to practice more. After all, you’re not like Michael, who can generate all his gear himself. If you ever manage to do that, I’ll be the first to cheer for you," Matthew comforted, trying to convince himself that Nemo was more cooperative than expected. People should know how to appreciate the good things they have.

"Can I occasionally not wear it, like when facing a very weak single enemy?" Nemo couldn’t help but ask.

"Nemo, do you know what a uniform represents?" Matthew raised an eyebrow.

"It’s the formal attire for work." The answer was clear—"No." As long as Nemo was acting in his superhero identity, even if it was to swat a cockroach for a screaming lady (or gentleman), he had to wear the uniform.

"There will always be times when you can’t avoid wearing the gear. It’s better to be prepared than regret not being ready when the time comes," Matthew patted Nemo on the shoulder, trying to encourage him.

"Like when?"

"During a zombie siege, would you wear it or not?"

"…I’ll wear it." And he'd even request additional versions designed to resist biological and chemical attacks.

"Of course, I’m not forcing you to wear the gear 24/7. You can go out in regular clothes, but in situations where you really can’t avoid it, you can wear casual clothes, then prioritize asking me or other superheroes for help and change into your gear as quickly as possible. I’ll make sure to have backup suits and weapons in different safe houses or I’ll figure out how to get them to you via express delivery."

"Got it. Thanks." Nemo pushed the goggles up, revealing his face once more. The harmless aura that had once surrounded the curly-haired young man was now gone, replaced by a calm, aloof, and mysterious presence.

"Now, we just need the final and most important piece of equipment," Matthew said seriously, eyeing him.

Nemo closed his eyes and opened them again.

"Your superhero codename."

The golden-eyed man handed Nemo an ID card with a chip embedded inside.

※※※

*It means painting a dragon and finally completing the eyes, which signifies "the perfect finishing touch."