"Friendly warning: Stop secretly turning off my alarm."
This time, it was a slow depletion of energy. Nemo felt that he wouldn’t need to sleep for too long, so he set an alarm to go off once every hour. He had promised to monitor Matthew’s health, and he would start by training himself in light sleep.
Nemo couldn't afford to pass out for extended periods every time he ran out of energy. If Matthew could still act out a two-hour escape scene with him after reverting to human form from battling the East Coast Kaiju, then he had definitely undergone some special training to maintain consciousness and mobility beyond his superpower limits.
"I’d like to ask you for a favor. Since you already know Leviathan’s identity, that person wants to meet you. You can probably guess who he is. Could you treat him kindly? I hope you’ll still be in this villa when I wake up." Matthew asked.
"No problem." Nemo wouldn’t refuse an intelligence source that was beneficial and harmless, especially since this was a key to the burdens carried by the previous Nemo. He didn’t need to recall the list of allies, but he definitely needed to keep a record of his enemies.
Matthew slept for ten hours—half in deep slumber, half in a state of residual awareness. During that time, Nemo would feed him nutrient-dense soup made from various blended ingredients, then pat his head.
The billionaire, reassured by the signal of safety, would mumble and curl back into bed. Only then would Nemo return to the couch in the living room, closing his eyes to clear his thoughts, negotiating with the fatigue raging inside him. Instead of violently resisting his body's needs and burning out, he aimed for a gentler, more sustained wakefulness cycle.
At least three times, Nemo actually fell asleep, only to be awakened by his phone’s alarm. Perhaps his superpower gave him an edge in environmental awareness—other heroes might pass out completely when their energy was depleted, but as long as he didn’t allow himself to fully succumb to sleep, Nemo could maintain a certain level of vigilance.
When the billionaire appeared wearing only a pair of boxer briefs, Nemo wasn’t surprised—after all, he was the one who had forced Matthew into them.
Matthew had a habit of sleeping naked. His wounds weren’t fully healed, but he looked energetic enough. The health bar didn’t need to be full, just safely above critical—something both Matthew and Nemo agreed on.
As for Nemo himself, he had only wiped down his body, leaving the bandages on his upper torso untouched. He wore only a pair of well-fitted silk pajama pants. With the cool alpine lake climate and his tendency to have a lower body temperature when drained of energy, he didn’t feel hot at all.
Nemo didn’t ask what Matthew’s energy recovery source was. He himself simply needed to eat and rest to recover. It had also been proven that when Angie transformed into a giant lizard, she could still consume regular Earth food.
The mental aspect might be key, or there could be other specific methods, but it wasn’t something superpowered individuals typically discussed. Besides, Matthew had mentioned before that every superhuman operated on an independent energy system—what worked for one wouldn’t necessarily work for another.
It was 2:30 AM. Nemo had been intermittently following news about the sea giant for three hours. The superheroes had all left, and the scene was now under U.S. military quarantine. The harbor district and a third of the eastern district remained locked down, but the Lone Star City government had lifted the evacuation order for the other areas.
Despite the late hour, the internet was still celebrating another American victory against a giant monster. This time, the military had finally proved somewhat useful.
A glowing figure descended onto the dock at the heart of the lake, standing motionless. Its overwhelming presence was so immense that even indoors, Nemo couldn’t ignore it.
"I'll go change clothes," Nemo said.
"No need for formality. You’re injured—I don’t want your wounds reopening."
That ethereal voice echoed in Nemo’s ears. The figure remained on the dock, its transparent golden wings illuminated by the moonlight, appearing even more beautiful and mysterious.
"Matthew, put on a shirt or some pants." The curly-haired youth rephrased his words.
"No need for that hassle. He’s seen me completely naked more times than I can count."
"I insist."
Nemo didn’t want to be half-naked, wrapped in bandages, while meeting the second-ranked superhero alongside a man in just his underwear. The other party was fully clad in armor, wrapped up so tightly he could be mistaken for the subject of a stained-glass church window—holy and elegant. "Otherwise, I’ll go change into casual clothes, and you can keep enjoying being Underwear Man."
"Fine, I’ll put something on. Don’t stress your injuries."
Matthew retreated into the master bedroom and grabbed a black silk robe, which at least covered him above the knees. He then strutted back into the living room like a model.
"Don’t just stand there—come in! Michael, coffee or tea?" Matthew opened the window and leaned on the sill, waving.
"Milk." Nemo poured three cups without hesitation. If even Matthew had run out of energy, Michael must have been equally, if not more, drained—especially since he had stayed behind to oversee cleanup efforts.
This was the third time Nemo had met the mysterious hero. The previous two times, Michael had seemed as distant and untouchable as a true angel. Now, however, he had folded his wings, set aside his golden sword, and was sitting quietly on the couch, sipping milk from a glass. Nemo knew this was a deliberate opportunity to observe him. He took full advantage of it, scrutinizing Michael’s appearance.
Michael looked like he had been bathed in light from the inside out. The most obvious feature was his platinum-blond, shoulder-length hair—undoubtedly not his natural color. Even under the bright indoor lighting, the air around him shimmered slightly, as if he were still emitting a faint glow.
The superhero nicknamed “Archangel” appeared young, likely no older than twenty-five. His features resembled those of an average Caucasian American youth.
Nemo had undoubtedly seen countless similar Western faces before—so many that he couldn’t even compare Michael to any specific celebrity. Just as he himself blended into the crowd among other Asians, this man’s features were both noticeable and unremarkable at the same time.
To be honest, Nemo himself couldn’t really tell the difference between Japanese, Korean, and Chinese people based on appearance alone—even though they were all from East Asia. A random Taiwanese girl could wear Korean-style makeup, speak fluent Japanese, and dress in Hanfu. How was Nemo, a straight guy, supposed to distinguish between them? And if she had Indigenous ancestry, that would make it even harder.
Michael had striking features. From afar, he truly looked like a statue. Up close, his face was neither particularly handsome nor ugly, but with his changed hair color and the demeanor he carried as a superhero, that face was no longer human. It radiated the divinity and mystery that people had revered for millennia through stone carvings and murals.
Nemo couldn’t determine Michael’s original ethnicity from his features. The best he could do was rule out some obvious options. His eyes, glowing silver-blue, shone like the light of a first-magnitude star—dazzling and impossible to stare at directly.
To those longing for the arrival of a heroic angel, that face had already transcended beauty and ugliness, exuding a sacred allure.
Even if Michael revealed his full face, if he shed his radiant armor and weapons and dressed like an ordinary young American, Nemo wasn’t sure he would recognize him in passing. Michael’s angelic aura was too overpowering—it was hard to even imagine him walking on the ground in sneakers and jeans.
Before he lost his memory, Nemo had a teammate in his old group—a close one, it seemed. That person was devastated when Nemo was captured and went missing.
After awakening superpowers, he became sworn brothers with Matthew Grimm.
When Michael finally discovered that Nemo was alive but amnesiac and working as a Chinese restaurant chef, he asked Matthew to help him.
Nemo had once guessed that " the person" Matthew referred to was some superhero, but he never expected it to be such a big name. And the shameless billionaire beside him? Not only did he top the wealth rankings—he was competing for first place in the superhero rankings too!
Matthew had said that he didn’t want Michael to forget the emotions of those who missed and worried about Nemo. Now, seeing Michael in person, Nemo seemed to understand what Matthew meant—Michael mustn’t lose his ability to feel human emotions, and Nemo was a crucial anchor keeping him grounded.
Nemo sat in the armchair diagonally across from Michael. A few steps of distance separated them. The fireplace had burned down to embers, releasing a faint warmth.
A cool breeze drifted in through the window the billionaire had left open, and even that insignificant airflow made Michael’s hair float, his strands seemingly weightless as they swayed and danced.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“The person you’re looking for is right here,” Nemo said.
"Mr. Captain…" This time, Michael’s voice sounded more normal—at least it came from his own mouth rather than through telepathic transmission. Yet, his tone still didn’t quite resemble a human’s. It evoked distant bells or the deep resonance of ocean waves, something vast and unfathomable. But the accent—he was undoubtedly American.
Nemo suddenly realized—the way he spoke sounded a lot like Salamander’s voice modulator. No doubt Matthew had drawn inspiration from Michael.
“Just call me Nemo! You know I’ve lost my memory. Sorry, but I don’t remember you at all.”
“That’s fine, Nemo. I’m not here to force you to remember the past. Even if you do recall something, you don’t have to tell me. Now that I know you don’t intend to regain your memories, I just want to ask—regarding what I remember, would you like to hear it?” As Michael spoke, his eyes tensed slightly, as if even recalling the past brought him pain.
Standing behind Michael, Matthew mouthed, "Say yes."
Nemo rubbed his face. “Of course. I’m curious about how we became friends.”
Michael hunched his shoulders slightly, his radiance dimming—like Nemo had driven a golden sword into the archangel’s chest.
“We weren’t friends. Not even that close. I don’t deserve…”
“Just start from the beginning. Whether we were friends, I’ll decide for myself,” Nemo said evenly.
“The group we belonged to was called Nightmare Squad—as the name suggests, we brought nightmares to certain scumbags. The leader of Nightmare Squad went by the codename Visioner. After I became Michael, she reached out to me telepathically, telling me her story and the origins of our group. Long before the Meteor Shower Event, there were already superpowered individuals on Earth. I knew her. I remember her voice. It was that very voice that called me to join Nightmare Squad.”
Michael fully unveiled the veil of secrecy surrounding Nemo’s former group.
“Can I know Visioner’s story?” Nemo suddenly had a strong intuition—this original superpowered being called Visioner might hold answers to the mystery of his soul transmigration. Perhaps even a way back to his original world.
“You haven’t truly lost it, Nemo. Can I call you KS? At least for what I’m about to say, you were part of her story. Regardless, Visioner never said her story couldn’t be shared, so I’d be happy to retell it for you. Matthew, you can listen too if you’d like.”
“That’s interesting—you call him Matthew, but he calls you Michael.” Nemo glanced at the billionaire. “Well then, feel free to call me by whatever codename you’re used to.”
"Matthew only wants to be called Leviathan when he transforms, but I like my own codename."
To Nemo, that sentence sounded more like Michael despised all his previous names, including the codename he used in the Nightmare Squad.
"Understood. Tell me about this Visioner," Nemo said.
"First of all, her codename is often mistaken for something like a prophet or oracle. But Visioner simply means she can perceive things she previously didn't know—things that may no longer be news to others. So her codename is based on her abilities and level of perception, and we can only hear the voice of her mind."
"In other words, Visioner witnesses hidden crimes and suffering, chooses her targets for execution, and calls upon comrades who bear similar scars," Nemo responded swiftly, as if the knowledge had already settled deep in his mind, surfacing alongside an inexplicable surge of emotion, ready to be grasped.
"Yes. But you are one of the few who have seen the Visioner’s true face, KS," Michael revealed, dropping a shocking piece of information.
There is a little girl who has never reported her birth certificate, who has been secretly raised in the basement since infancy. The father is a family physician, and he personally delivered this baby girl, and her birth is carefully planned by a veteran pedophile, a collection tailored to a man himself.
The woman who is used as a fertility machine herself suffers from psychosis, believing that pregnancy is an angel, and does not regard the baby girl as her own child, and under the deliberate brainwashing of the man, she is convinced that it is a divine mission to raise this young sacred being in the divine realm, and she exists for this purpose.
The little girl grew up in this completely distorted world, with no chance of escape—neither in mind nor body.
As time passed, the mentally ill woman began experiencing more auditory hallucinations. A sinister voice whispered to her that the child she had given birth to was actually a demon and that her husband was the great demon who had orchestrated it all. The demons always did evil things to her while she slept, and she thought the only way to escape was to kill them both.
But her intentions could not avoid the attention of the true demon. The man held the power to manipulate the medicine she consumed, or to stop her from taking it altogether.
During the winter season, the woman was found frozen to death in the woods, dressed too lightly for the cold. It seemed she had left the warmth of the house during a hallucination while her husband was away at work. The police investigation revealed that she had hidden all the medication inside a teddy bear.
Her husband, who was also a doctor, had regularly taken her for checkups and made sure she received her medications, but despite his efforts, he was unable to save her.
The police didn’t even realize that beneath their feet was a basement, where a young life had been suffering in silence and abuse for years. By this time, the little girl was already eight years old.
On the day her biological mother died, the little girl developed a split personality. Visioner was the alternate persona. The primary personality had no superpowers, but the alternate one granted her the ability to perceive the true world.
However, she was too sensitive and fragile to resist her father's abuse and control.
Visioner saw the school, the courtroom, murder scenes, the tears and corpses of victims, the fury of their families, and the boys and girls suffering just like her. But Visioner could only watch, until one day, her heart let out a roar of fury, and she received a faint response in return.
— "There’s no one here. Who’s speaking?" a boy's voice with a peculiar accent asked in response, and for a long time, no further connection was made.
They spent several more years, using their limited superpowers to study American law and a variety of other knowledge, eventually creating the framework for the Nightmare Squad.
Visioner decided to summon a team of volunteers to kill their nightmares and save another version of themselves.
She gained her freedom at the age of fifteen, and that boy with the peculiar accent was also part of the newly formed team. When they agreed on codenames, he called himself Kill Steal Man.
KS captures the ones who slip through the executioner’s grasp. With his harmless appearance, he’s well-suited to soothe victims who are broken by pain. Some victims are willing to bear the cost of murder, even eager to take the fall for the Nightmare Squad if the police get too close, willingly going to prison.
But they can never bring themselves to commit the act themselves, so KS steals the kill for them, handling the crime script, weapon, spoils, and corpse disposal, then hands over the information to the victims. This allows them to either fulfill their vow of taking the blame or back out without paying any price. There are always victims waiting to pass the baton.
"The rule is simple: the executioner cannot touch a captured target if the victim wants to exact their own revenge, but sometimes victims will commission the cleanup crew to execute their abuser in a specified manner. KS always fulfills their wishes," Michael said, looking at Nemo.
"It’s fine, I think it’s quite good. Please continue," Nemo replied.
"I want to find the other members of the Nightmare Squad. One of the considerations is that there are an unknown number of victims who voluntarily take the fall for the members when the crimes are exposed, and who are either already in prison serving their sentences or are scheduled to do so in the future. I want to rescue these people, which requires the Nightmare Squad to provide information about the victims," Michael's reason indeed caught Nemo by surprise.
"He asks for the core secrets of the group right from the start, so of course, he gets slapped down and rejected," Matthew interjected, adding to the explanation.
"It certainly goes against the spirit of justice. It’s a tactic that only an group of ordinary people—except for Visioner—would come up with, to deliberately create miscarriages of justice," Nemo deeply felt the power of collective effort.
Matthew winked at Nemo. "Think carefully. I’m not opposed to vigilante justice. If you have the ability to avoid getting caught, then fine. But when it comes to taking the fall for miscarriages of justice, I support Michael. Let’s leave it at that! Then we can review the case and reopen the trial. Since it’s vigilante justice, don’t bring the law into it, or you’ll risk misjudgments by judges and juries, and perjury is another form of serious crime."
"Although I have amnesia, I still have to say, I don't care whether the victim is willing to take the fall. If you're going to be a vigilante, you have to be prepared to get caught. But some victims want to achieve personal revenge through some form of compensation, seeking psychological balance and peace. However, the justice system really isn’t a suitable platform for trading between vigilantes and victims. Although the victims and their families certainly can’t stand the DA making deals with criminals to reduce their sentences in exchange for guilty pleas," Nemo said, scratching his messy hair.
"I'll need to think more about what I heard today. You two are too idealistic, but we’re all breaking the law, especially you, Matthew. The law isn’t just about criminal offenses. Benjamin Franklin once said, ‘In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.’ I think when the Founding Father said "this world," he was referring to America. The proposition of perjury can still make the scales of justice sway slightly within our limited lifetimes," the curly-haired youth added, throwing a jab at the world's wealthiest man.
"As I said, he has become more challenging to deal with since losing his memory," Matthew remarked with a shrug.
"It’s fine, I’ve emphasized that I just wanted KS to know my thoughts. I didn’t mean to force him to change," Michael said to the golden-eyed man.
"How did Visioner and her primary personality divide the body’s control? Don’t they argue? Like how we just disagreed about the Nightmare Squad's rules?" Nemo asked curiously, wanting to learn more about Visioner.
"The primary personality proposed letting Visioner have full control of the body, as she was too fragile and in pain to continue. But Visioner refused. In the end, they agreed that Visioner could freely use the body, call the Nightmare Squad into action when needed, but the primary personality would still handle the daily life and upkeep of the body. After I became Michael, Visioner informed me that they would continue with the existing arrangement, but they wouldn’t call me again, asking me not to interfere with the Nightmare Squad," Michael said with a sense of defeat.
"So, the primary personality is just a victim who succeeded in revenge, at most an early advisor when the group was first formed, not a member of the Nightmare Squad. And because you were too successful in your superhero career, you were expelled from the Nightmare Squad," Nemo summarized succinctly.
Michael nodded.
"What's the story of your time in the Nightmare Squad, Michael?"
"The members of the Nightmare Squad were mainly of two kinds: the surviving victims, and the family members of victims. I belong to the latter."
"I’m sorry for your loss," Nemo said gently.
"At the time, I had just joined the Nightmare Squad. I was weak and had no special skills. Visioner had you take me under your wing as a logistics member, teaching me self-defense and investigation techniques. By then, the Nightmare Squad had been established for more than a decade, with countless enemies accumulated, and the backlash we faced was growing stronger and stronger."
"Not surprising. When you’re out there, you always have to pay the price," Nemo remarked, more surprised by how a group of ordinary people could maintain such a mysterious vigilante group for so long, fueled only by obsession, with the help of a mind-powered individual.
Michael looked at Nemo, his face heavy with sorrow. In that moment, the unfeeling angel once again became a mere human. KS was like a feather that had fallen into the hands of a drowning man—helplessly clutched by the powerless youth, unable to do anything but sink deeper into the blood-soaked sea of despair.
"The day you were ambushed, I was there too. We escaped into a house, and you hid me in the closet while stepping out to distract the enemies. During the fight, your mask fell off. I saw your face and then watched you, badly injured, being taken away. I was the one who witnessed it."