The interstate highway is now an important communication artery in the United States. In addition to the communication cables buried along the route, ensuring smooth wireless internet access for passing vehicles through dense base stations, a public phone booth is set up every two to five kilometers for emergency assistance to travelers and nearby residents. If superpowered individuals dare to disrupt traffic safety on the highway, it's not just the highway patrol that comes, but National Guard attack helicopters and even more superheroes.

When Nemo first arrived in this world, he was able to connect to Wi-Fi on a intercity bus and check the news of this parallel world, thanks to the Interstate Highway Communication Protection Act, swiftly passed in the aftermath of the Meteor Shower Event.

This critical infrastructure ensured that anyone reaching an interstate highway would have internet quality comparable to that of major cities and access to the national intranet, staying connected with the civilized world.

Today, interstate highway security in the U.S. has become more important than ever, with significant improvements in the number and quality of roadside restaurants and motels catering to travelers.

Any terrorist attack that disrupts the interstate highway is an act of war against every internet-connected American. As a result, every state governor competes to install the most surveillance cameras, communication enhancement equipment, and civil defense bases along their section of the highway, as well as to ensure the fastest restoration of communication in case of disasters. This is a matter of political survival—election votes depend on it.

The continued decline of New Orleans is partly due to reconstruction funds being prioritized for interstate highway communication maintenance on the Louisiana side, and the people of Louisiana generally agree with this decision. Only when external road communication is secure and smooth will people be willing to pass through or even settle in the area, giving the place a chance for redevelopment. Otherwise, forget about welcoming outsiders—Louisiana’s own residents would rather leave.

As soon as Tolya drove the transport truck onto the interstate highway, it was, in Nemo’s words, like entering a PvP-restricted safe zone in a game—far less stressful.

There’s an advantage to standing on the side of justice, even if their goal was to avoid exposure and avoid calling the police. A masked Russian transporting a truck full of hostages looked suspicious no matter how one saw it, but the sense of security that came from having powerful backers made all the difference.

Nemo figured the mission was mostly a success as they left New Orleans. After all, the hostages in the truck weren’t as valuable anymore compared to the unexpected appearance of the superpowered families. They were now locked in battle with the traitors at the old warehouse. Regardless of which side won, they were both true superpowered individuals—by far the most valuable “merchandise.”

The Chinese forces struggled to covertly capture the Kingdom’s weakened superpowered individuals amidst the chaos. Furthermore, the traitors were already marked for retaliation by the Kingdom. Any attempt to interfere with the Kingdom’s delegates would result in becoming a sworn enemy of the entire organization.

Just as the Kingdom dared not make enemies with the Grimm Group, once the Chinese forces realized there was no profit to be made, they would cut their losses and withdraw. Meanwhile, both the Grimm Group and the Kingdom were waiting for an opportunity to trace the mysterious forces behind these Chinese operatives, though they were infringing upon different territories, the common thread was that Chinese buyers were stirring up trouble where they shouldn’t.

Matthew had recommended that Nemo seek help through Crazy Doctor Asian forum precisely because, at its core, the collective kidnapping case of the Kingdom’s superpowered delegates’ families wasn’t beyond Nemo’s ability to handle. It was an ideal mission for him and Salamander to gain experience, and after careful consideration, Nemo was even willing to let his Russian roommate get involved.

The key issue was geography—the mastermind was literally Nemo’s neighbor. Even if there were stronger superheroes available, no one was more suited for the task than Nemo himself.

Taking down Bookstore Owner responsible for the kidnappings would be a defining moment for his growth, and since it was a rescue mission, it was less likely to leave psychological scars.

“I’m on my way back to Lone Star City. What about you?” Tolya dialed Nemo’s secure number.

“All done! Just waiting on you now.”

“Be honest. Don’t just tell me the good news.” Tolya gritted his teeth. They had been roommates for long enough—did Nemo really think he wouldn’t notice something off about his breathing?

“It really went smoothly. My temporary teammate took down Bookstore Owner, I rescued the little girl, and I even saved an additional victim from the basement. But just as I was about to head back, that armor-piercing bullet assassin from last time got in one more shot,” The Taiwanese roommate added casually.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

“I had a Kingdom delegate block the shot for me, and I dodged in time to avoid any vital areas. It’s just a flesh wound. The bullet has been completely removed, the wound has been stitched up, and I’m resting now. I’ll be transferring to a hospital that’s convenient for you to visit. How’s that? I’m not hiding anything from you.”

“Bullshit! If you lie to me again, I’m seriously going to lose it!” Tolya could only offer a weak threat.

Getting shot wasn’t Nemo’s fault. He had risked his life to rescue people, only to be ambushed by a treacherous and unknown superpowered enemy. In the world of superhero comics, movies, and TV series, characters were constantly dying and coming back to life—by those standards, Nemo’s gunshot wound wasn’t a big deal.

But this was his former coworker and longtime roommate—the same guy who would complain if he got a minor kitchen injury, the same rookie who always got bruised and dizzy during sparring because he couldn’t dodge properly. Even after awakening his superpowers, he was still made of flesh and blood. Tolya knew better than anyone, having personally helped care for his chest gunshot wound before.

No matter how unimpressive his ranking was, Nemo was a superhero—his Taiwanese roommate had accepted the responsibility of protecting the weak. Just like back when Tolya was being beaten up at the U.S.-Mexico border, and a wounded, amnesiac Nemo didn’t just stand by and watch.

Even now, Nemo still chose to fight.

And the despicable sniper had left another signature on Nemo’s body. Tolya was absolutely livid.

“Keep your eyes on the road! Don’t mess up before the mission is over, or it’ll be my turn to laugh at you,” Nemo reminded cautiously.

Tolya was just about to retort when a pickup truck suddenly sped up and closed in. A man in the passenger seat leaned out with a modified rifle, shouting, “Pull over and get out! This truck is ours now!”

The Russian had been driving with the window rolled down precisely for this moment. Without a word, his left hand, already gripping a loaded handgun, fired a shot straight into the man’s shoulder. Then, he quickly lowered the barrel and fired three more shots at the pickup’s right front tire. A scream of pain was followed by the screech of emergency brakes. Keeping one hand on the wheel, Tolya floored the gas pedal and pulled away.

“What was that?” Nemo asked from the other end of the line, clearly having heard the commotion.

“Someone tried to hijack the truck. I don’t think they wanted to harm the hostages—just force me to swap places and give up the driver’s seat.”

“You didn’t kill anyone, did you?”

“Of course not! I’m a sharpshooter ne, you know!” Tolya replied smugly. At some point, he had picked up quite a few Taiwanese filler words, and he was now using them more frequently than even Nemo, an actual Taiwanese. Though they sounded odd tacked onto his English, the addition of ne gave the Russian the illusion that his Chinese was top-notch.

“I’ll just take your word for it. Is Salamander nearby?”

“If Salamander’s not transformed, they’d have to be in a truck, right? I don’t see them in my rearview mirror.”

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Just then, Salamander called. In a soft, androgynous synthesized voice, the lizard hero said, “I took care of two more vehicles behind you. I’ll overtake you in three minutes and clear the way ahead. Just follow the big truck.”

Tolya relayed the message to Nemo. “Salamander just said he took out two Kingdom vehicles. Doesn’t sound like a recording. Did he already shift back?”

“The truck has a large touchscreen inside. Salamander can use their claws to type and convert it into speech. It’s a rough setup, but it works,” Nemo explained.

Once again, Tolya was reminded of the universal truth: money makes everything easier.

A moment later, an eighteen-wheeler overtook him from the next lane. The massive truck bore the gold-green antler emblem of the Gimm Group.

Even if there really was a beast inside the trailer, the truck itself was already a mechanical monster. Tolya vividly recalled watching World War Z with Nemo, seeing the giant trucks plow through the clogged traffic. The sight before him had that same unstoppable force.

The rest of the journey was smooth. The three highway crashes caused by Salamander and Tolya had definitely drawn government attention, forcing their pursuers to back off. Near the blockade, the large container truck split off from Tolya, who understood that Salamander was once again abandoning vehicles to move on foot.

Sticking to the original plan, Tolya drove the hostages to the Grimm Tower’s underground parking lot—a place he had delivered takeout to so many times that even the parking attendant recognized him.

Upon arrival, a team of medical personnel was already on standby. Holding his breath, Tolya opened the truck’s rear doors. The vehicle was, of course, equipped with bulletproofing and ventilation. He had also regularly checked on the hostages via radio during the trip. Aside from some distress caused by the gunfire, all reports confirmed that they were unharmed.

One by one, the hostages disembarked. Those who had trouble walking were assisted. On-site medics checked their blood pressure and pupils, and per Tolya’s prior notifications, automated wheelchairs were prepared for the injured and elderly. The hostages were then escorted in groups to the experimental zone via elevator.

Tolya, like everyone else, had to follow protocol until the mission was officially complete.

A middle-aged Indian man in a white lab coat walked beside him and introduced himself. “I’m the head of Salamander’s medical team. Pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m just the driver KS Man hired. Nice to meet you too,” Tolya replied. Not giving out real names in situations like this was probably an unspoken rule, though he doubted they didn’t already have his background on file.

KS Man and Salamander were war buddies, and Tolya’s partnership with Salamander had gone well this time. Compared to some random scientist, having Salamander’s support team handle things felt much more appropriate.

“You’re the first ordinary person Salamander has worked with on a mission. It showed us that their adaptability and coordination are even better than expected. Thanks to that, many hostages were saved. Personally, I’d like to express my gratitude,” the medical chief said, extending his hand.

Tolya gave a perfunctory handshake. “It’s nothing. I just happened to be in the right place to help.”

“While we wait for the hostage transfer to be finalized, allow me to introduce you to this medical assessment area. Apologies, but there’s only so much I can disclose to outsiders,” the man said.

The Grimm Group had gathered the hostages in the primary assessment zone—a large, high-ceilinged indoor space used for entry-level superhuman testing. It was the most spacious area, equipped with simple but practical fitness evaluation tools, and contained no classified information.

The Indian man truly took on the role of a tour guide. Alongside Tolya, a few alert hostages also followed along. Tolya instantly recognized a particular rock wall featured in KS Man’s debut video. Judging by their reactions, several others did too.

With a pilgrimage-like reverence, they approached to touch it.

When people learned that this rock wall was a preliminary screening checkpoint used by the Grimm Group to filter out superpowered applicants, they were all shocked.

“Are you kidding me? Even someone like me, who has no superpowers, can climb this thing. And this is enough to weed out hundreds of superhero applicants every month?” Tolya felt like his worldview had been reshaped. Were superpowered individuals really this disposable?

Salamander’s medical team leader said, “That’s why being merely a blood relative of a superpowered individual doesn’t mean you’re part of some lucrative internal project. Don’t think of yourselves as too precious or in demand. Our boss is particularly concerned about crimes related to superpowers, ensuring that victims haven’t had anything implanted or taken from them, or suffered unspeakable harm. We hope you’ll agree to let us conduct a free health examination and establish a medical record for reference in case future treatment is needed.”

So, the tour was just a setup—the Grimm Group’s true goal was to get the relatives of these superpowered individuals to undergo medical examinations and be documented. Most people hesitated upon realizing this.

Just then, a peculiar group of about twenty people entered primary assessment zone. Each exuded an imposing presence—the delegates of the Kingdom had arrived. Their principle of moving in groups served both as a means of mutual restraint and cooperation, ensuring that every delegate could safely bring back their kidnapped relatives.

Moreover, the Grimm Group headquarters was by no means a safe place for these Kingdom delegates. After all, none of them had clean hands. If they wanted to step into the domain of the world’s richest man to retrieve their people, they had to temporarily set aside past grudges and form a battle-ready team—just like their fight in the old warehouse earlier that day.

For now, neither side made any direct moves. Perhaps it was because there were other dangerous superpowered individuals among the relatives. No one from the family area took the first step, and on the superpowered side, the stronger individuals and elders seemed to be suppressing the more impulsive youths. The Kingdom delegates were still waiting for the Grimm Group to make a statement.

The Grimm Group wouldn’t be so generous as to do all this for free—they were bound to demand something in return before releasing the captives. It wasn’t just about medical checkups. These superpowered individuals who had joined the Kingdom had seen too much of how powerful entities exploited superpowered people for their own gain.

“What does the Grimm Group want to do to our families? What right do they have to force them into these examinations?” a young superpowered individual, possibly under twenty, shouted angrily.

The Russian, who had spent years venting to Nemo about various superpowered social phenomena, instinctively retorted, ”You’ve received such a huge favor from the Grimm Group. So what if they keep some records as research material? If something happens to your family—say, they get harmed or controlled by someone else’s powers—do you even know how to treat them?”

Tolya’s words were like a stone thrown into a pond, sending ripples through the crowd.

At that moment, Salamander, now back in human form and clad in his signature black robe, stepped forward to maintain order. Seeing their savior again, the rescued victims grew emotional. The Kingdom delegates, realizing that this superhero had not only helped rescue their relatives but also personally ensured their safety, found it difficult to act too aggressively.

The kidnapped adult victims started moving toward the tables, voluntarily signing the consent forms for medical examinations. Those with guardianship rights also signed on behalf of the children.

“He’s right,” someone said. “We owe our rescuers that much. Besides, these exams are in our best interest, too.”

“Sweetheart, I love you, but you can’t keep locking me in a closet. During our time together, we kidnapping victims have talked a lot. We made a vow that if any of us died or went missing forever, someone would be there to pass on our last words and care for the children and ordinary relatives left behind. We shared all our secrets, swore to be brothers and sisters, and pledged to treat each other’s children as our own,” a middle-aged woman explained to a bald, tattooed young man who clearly wasn’t happy about it.

“You love the ordinary little brother more! You think I’m a freak, don’t you? I knew it!” The bald, tattooed youth’s hands burst into flames.

“How are you a freak? You’re just as common as those brainless street thugs, except you happen to be a walking flamethrower. Give me a riot shield, and I could take you down in ten seconds,” Tolya mocked.

“You son of a—!” The bald, tattooed youth was about to charge forward but was held back by older, stronger superpowered individuals who shook their heads. Causing trouble in the Grimm Group’s territory was like handing their enemies a knife.

A regional delegate who couldn’t even grasp the basic situation and repaid kindness with hostility? That Russian’s mockery wasn’t entirely unwarranted.

“If a person here attempts to kidnap any one of us to threaten other superpowered individuals, then you will be our enemy—no exceptions, not even if it’s my own family.” The superpowered individuals’ relatives stood together, linking hands. A female voice emerged from the crowd, but no one could tell who had spoken. One of the superpowered individuals looked away, avoiding eye contact.

“Since the Meteor Shower Event, we’ve become treasures and emotional pillars for superpowered individuals. But we are people too! We want to live normal lives. We don’t want to hoard dirty money that can’t even be donated to a church, or cower like rats in the underground corners of society,” An old person finally spoke up about what had been bothering them for so long.

“Then how are we supposed to survive? The Kingdom is the only one that can protect us!” a superpowered individual shouted.

“These two ‘we’s don’t seem to overlap at all,” Salamander sighed. The hero’s harp-like, ethereal, non-human voice filled the space with a moment of silence. “That’s enough for now. Anyone who wants to leave together, feel free. Those who want to stay for the medical examinations, you’re welcome to do so. I believe the Grimm Group can provide a safe haven. There’s no need to force a conclusion today.”

Salamander spoke with such authority that the two groups slowly separated, then merged again.

Tolya scratched his nose and followed the movement toward the exit. He was still wearing a robber-style balaclava, which, amusingly, resembled Salamander’s look.

But the difference in their statuses was vast. Even if Tolya didn’t care about appearances, there was no way he’d feel any kind of “shared masked hero pride.”

He was starting to understand Nemo’s constant complaints about how suffocating uniforms were. Right now, all Tolya wanted was to get to a secluded place, rip off his mask, and take a deep breath.

“Wait, KS’s driver, aren’t you staying here to wait for him?” Salamander called out to the Russian.

Salamander didn’t know that Nemo had been shot? That somehow gave Tolya a strange sense of satisfaction.

“I’m heading home to rest. KS and I will cross paths again sooner or later,” Tolya said, eager to depart from this dazzling yet enigmatic place. His rented apartment remained the only sanctuary where he and Nemo could truly unwind.

Even if Nemo was injured and wouldn’t be coming home anytime soon, Tolya would rather wait at the apartment until Nemo told him where and when he could visit.