When the helicopter was still flying over a desolate valley, Matthew declared that they had already entered his private territory.
Nemo rubbed his temples, listening to Matthew excitedly pointing out a surprise just two more mountain ridges away. He silently chanted, "Money buys indulgence."
As the landscape suddenly transformed, a shimmering lake nestled amidst the mountains came into view. Spanning roughly ten square kilometers, the lake’s The surface sparkled under the sunlight.
Narrowing his eyes, Nemo scanned the shoreline for Matthew’s new residence. Matthew reached out and turned his head away from the window, pointing ahead and saying, "It's not by the shore. Pay attention to the lake."
Through the limited visibility of the helicopter’s front windows, Nemo peered past the pilot. It was then he noticed an artificial island at the center of the lake. According to Matthew, the island was constructed using an oil rig-style design, with long foundation piles driven over 100 meters deep into the lakebed to support the structure. Soil was then placed atop the platform to create a foundation for a modest two-story villa. The villa, blending into the surroundings with its earthy tones, resembled an expensive yet understated piece of white truffle chocolate when viewed from afar.
“My new home operates on solar power with a water purification system, but it also has an emergency backup generator. Trash is handled through automated ecological decomposition, cleaning is managed by household robots, and communication is secured through a private satellite with a 24/7 connection to my corporate headquarters,” Matthew explained as he pointed out the villa’s features while they were still airborne.
The helicopter landed on the artificial island’s helipad, unloaded the two passengers and a fridge filled with ingredients, and then took off again. Matthew, carrying the fridge—easily weighing over ten kilograms—on one shoulder, showed Nemo around the island instead of heading directly inside. Nemo had the sudden urge to ask Matthew if he was an Animal Crossing enthusiast, but since he’d only heard of the game and never played it, he decided to stay quiet.
Behind the villa, there was a dock with a yacht and a paddle canoe, as well as a secret passage leading to the bottom of the lake—something very few people knew about. Beneath the lake lay a state-of-the-art fluorine-powered mini-submarine that could take them to the underground bunker entrance on the shore and a few other secret escape routes. “I’ve decided to name her ‘Nautilus.’ In the future, I plan to integrate the Nautilus with a helium airship structure for automated linkage, transforming it into a hybrid capable of both aerial and underwater travel,” Matthew said, launching into a detailed explanation of his military-grade technology.
“Why are you telling me all of this?”
“Well, since you’re now among the select few who know my core secrets, my friend, I want you to learn how to use these facilities. In case a disaster leaves me incapacitated, at least you’ll be able to help me escape,” Matthew replied, claiming it was an efficient way to leverage human resources.
“Superheroes don’t need all this equipment. I can only rely on non-powered individuals to help me, and ideally, those with survival instincts who can cook! Surely you know that a ship may not always have a doctor, but it will always have a cook!” Matthew asserted with confidence.
“…I can’t argue with that,” Nemo conceded, still baffled by Matthew’s unconventional yet strangely sound logic. How does he manage to turn these outlandish ideas into reality without any unforeseen setbacks?
"How about enemies from the sky?"
"Don't worry. Aerial enemies are hard to hide. The various radars and anti-aircraft weapons I’ve hidden in the forest should still be useful in theory. There are no civilians living on the island, and the staff are scheduled to move into the hidden forest base, which also has bunkers. The only downside is that the construction was rushed, and the scale is relatively small," Matthew explained. "Laser cannons are cheap, so I plan to deploy them in large numbers. To support green energy and environmental protection, I will start building small nuclear fusion reactors for the defense system. In the future, some key laboratories will also be relocated to the secure zone of the territory."
“Even if the Meteor Shower Event happens again, apart from preserving the core database, the territory is stocked with enough non-electronic weapons and living supplies to remain self-sufficient. The natural resources here are abundant,” Matthew said.
Nemo gave Matthew a sidelong glance. Just how worried was he about a zombie apocalypse?
“This used to be federally owned, untouched forestland that money couldn’t buy. But after the Meteor Shower Event, the U.S. government, desperate for revenue and support from wealthy groups like the Grimm Group, agreed to sell me exclusive 200-year usage rights for about one-fifth of the wilderness around Lone Star City, including this mountain lake. The Roadless Area Conservation Rule, which prohibits road construction and commercial logging in these forests, suited me perfectly. Lone Star City officials subtly suggested I build a few access roads to facilitate land-use adjustments and federal negotiations, but that’s their problem.”
Matthew added, “Honestly, this deal was more like a patriotic donation. I also signed a separate agreement with the city government to continue adhering to the Roadless Rule and maintain forest security during the usage period. In exchange, the federal government granted the Grimm Group priority procurement rights and pre-purchased a large quantity of military equipment. The repayment term is spread over fifty years. Basically, whatever I produce now, the federal government takes. If the media accuses me of profiteering, I can release these details, but I’ll wait until they figure out where I built my new home!”
“That wasn’t reported in the news,” Nemo said.
“It’ll come out eventually. Luckily, there aren’t many reporters as keen on mountain hiking and trailblazing as you are; most are busy chasing stories in the city. Admittedly, this deal is a bit controversial, but after the East Coast monster incident and with the growing discussion around whether superheroes need safe bases to recuperate, I think Lone Star City residents will support it.”
Matthew Grimm had moved too quickly. When had he made his move? Right after being rescued from that deserted island? His condition seemed terrible at the time, Nemo recalled from the news. If Matthew had acted any slower, he wouldn’t now be leisurely hiding in the vast private wilderness on Lone Star City’s outskirts. His bold acquisitions would’ve sparked nationwide debates and legal challenges, embarrassing both the U.S. government in need of arms and superheroes requiring a base for covert operations.
At present, unregulated superheroes needed sponsors who could keep up with their pace. Once laws to limit superhumans were passed, it might truly lead to a civil war, just like in the movies. Matthew clearly sided with the superheroes, possibly because he understood that laws couldn’t bind them.
For now, superpowers relied on moral principles, personal justice, and the stark reality of power disparities to maintain balance.
“Agreed.” Nemo nodded. At least knowing that Grimm Group’s heavy weaponry guarded one-fifth of Lone Star City’s border felt reassuring. “So, you’re really planning to build a superhero base here?”
“More precisely, I plan to let every hero I trust pick their favorite spot within this territory and build their own mini-base using local materials. They can even keep their locations secret from each other, as long as they’re accountable to me. Solar panels and eco-friendly restroom materials will be available. This is still in the planning stages. No satellite or high-altitude drone will detect any visible structures. To the government and the public’s knowledge, I live in the middle of the lake, and I’m just a rich guy who’s afraid of dying. That’s all they need to know.”
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“You thought of all this before superpowers even appeared?”
"Of course not. Back then, I wasn’t sure how chaotic the U.S. would become, so I needed a fallback zone for self-preservation. In the worst case, I prepared for a prolonged civil war."
"What about the frequent disappearances around Lone Star City’s mountains?"
"Partly rumors I spread, partly me investigating and neutralizing unknown threats. Actually, these kinds of disappearances happen in forests across the U.S."
Matthew tilted his head with a sly grin. "When I said I wanted to visit my new home and casually invited you to help with cooking, you wouldn’t have agreed. But add these escape facilities, and you’re in, right?"
Nemo knew there were plenty of people willing to do anything to achieve their goals, but shamelessness combined with Matthew’s disregard for costs was a rare sight indeed.
Nemo originally intended to visit the shipyard first, but Matthew grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the villa, loudly declaring that he was only responsible for lighting the fireplace, not handling ingredients.
"The first floor consists of the master bedroom, study, living room, and an open kitchen. The second floor has six guest rooms, plus an attic, which is actually an emergency operating room equipped with blood bags of all types and medical supplies. It can handle minor injuries and even support remote Da Vinci robotic surgeries. That’s it. My initial request was for comfort and simplicity—something easy to rebuild if necessary," Matthew rattled off the entire layout of the villa in a single breath.
Nemo thought this villa was probably the least time-consuming building on the entire estate. For a home that had been circulating in the news as the Grimm Group’s leader’s new residence in Lone Star City, people had been expecting some kind of breathtakingly luxurious mansion. Yet, in another sense, Matthew's estate planning had gone beyond the word luxury.
—It was either insane or toxic—or, more precisely, both.
After stuffing the ingredients into the large freezer, Nemo first checked the stove and kitchen utensils, only to be summoned by the eager homeowner to admire his fantastical fireplace.
"The moisture by the lake is heavy, so I’ve placed this armchair closest to the fireplace, just for you. Do you want to sit down and watch me light the fire before you start cooking?" Matthew rolled up his sleeves as he arranged the logs, hearing the soft sound of someone settling into the chair.
Whenever Matthew thought he had shown enough to leave a commoner dazed, Nemo always managed to strike back with an unexpected counter.
"Now, can you tell me the real reason why you approached me?"
The matchbox slipped from the billionaire’s hand and hit the floor with a crisp crack that echoed loudly in the silent room, like a slap to the face.
The golden-eyed man turned his head slowly, lips slightly parted, watching as the curly-haired young man sank into the plush, high-backed armchair. His legs were crossed, his right hand propped his chin, and his left fingers lightly tapped on the smooth, rounded armrest of peachwood. Matthew suddenly felt like a beast caught in the hunter’s sights.
"…"
Nemo acknowledged that in order for a man to become the world’s richest, he couldn’t be a timid rule-follower. Doing something bizarre—like befriending a Chinese chef who had seen him naked—wasn’t entirely incomprehensible.
However, things were rarely as simple as they seemed. Nemo believed there was no such thing as a free lunch, and the only thing falling from the sky would be bird droppings, not blessings.
Seeing Matthew frozen like a statue, Nemo helpfully elaborated.
"I don’t think you’re petty enough to have class-based discrimination—but as a businessman, you must weigh gains and losses. I also don’t think you’d waste so much time on an unknown nobody unless I could bring you some extraordinary benefit."
"I think you’re worth that much," Matthew replied with a dry laugh.
"Shh, I’m not finished." Nemo shook his head. "Let’s assume you took on some mission, and the other party offered you a treasure you desired or a favor you needed—that would make sense."
Matthew hovered between pretending to be oblivious and outright admitting the truth. Either choice felt mortifying.
"If this were a movie, it’d be like a rich playboy betting with his friends that he could make an unattractive lower-class girl fall in love with him. But what I want to know is, did someone hire you to befriend me?"
"Your imagination is astounding," Matthew said, trying to salvage the situation. Maybe Nemo was bluffing?
"No matter how I think about it, this is the most straightforward and reasonable answer. Considering my amnesia, it’s not surprising for some mysterious acquaintance to show up, but I’m sure we didn’t know each other before. Matthew Grimm." Nemo emphasized his name.
"You could guess that I made a bet to get you into bed! A secluded lakeside villa, the two of us alone—how romantic!"
" I’m a man. You’re straight. Don’t even start with that ‘deep in the closet’ bullshit. No, thanks," Nemo said flatly, his eyes drifting to the fire poker by the fireplace. It was made of cast iron, with sleek lines and a well-balanced weight. Judging by its build, a few strikes to the fleshy areas wouldn’t cause serious injury. The best part? It was within arm’s reach.
Matthew evidently noticed Nemo’s patience wearing thin. Considering the curly-haired young man had likely been holding back for not just a day but an entire month, Matthew decided it was best to stop teasing him for his own safety.
"Alright! That person was right when they said you’re suspicious and sharp-tongued, but they didn’t mention how considerate you are. I was planning to take things further after our third meeting," Matthew admitted. That person never warned him how difficult it would be to fool Nemo!
Inwardly, Nemo cursed in every language he could think of. Trapped in the lion’s den, he had to stay calm, but damn it, he was furious!
"Do you have any other reasons to doubt me? Since I’ve spilled so many secrets, let me reflect on where I went wrong?" Matthew asked, sitting cross-legged on the carpet. He looked up at Nemo, just like the first time they met, except now he was fully clothed.
"Your mere presence in front of me is the biggest bug," Nemo replied.
"A good detective doesn’t rely on intuition alone," Matthew said with great frustration.
"Who cares? I’m a chef. And do you really think you’re that slick? The personal details you shared were too precise, to the point where it felt like reverse interrogation—testing my knowledge, subconscious reactions, and habits on multiple levels," Nemo retorted mercilessly.
"I was trying to show my sincerity! Although you’re right, don’t you think I’m worth the trouble?" Did Nemo even realize how rare it was to have the world’s richest man in front of him? Matthew didn’t want to brag, but while there might have been others as wealthy as him, none were as young, handsome, or gifted! And on top of that, he was approachable and caring!
"Cut the nonsense. Who hired you to approach me? What’s my real identity before the amnesia? Was the ‘me’ before this a good person or a bad one?" Nemo frowned at his last question.
Matthew’s eyes widened slightly at the final question. It was a surprising moment, like seeing a flower bloom unexpectedly by the roadside—an unforeseen, mysterious development.
"The you who lost your memory would only find it more confusing to learn that person’s identity now. Let’s take it step by step. If you want to know more, cooperate with me and accept my help." That was clearly Matthew’s bottom line.
He wouldn’t even reveal the pronoun of the person—his or hers. Nemo grew even more agitated.
Knowing full well Matthew was baiting him, Nemo could only play along. The other man had too many advantages, while Nemo himself had almost nothing.
Nemo’s expression grew darker as his fingers clenched into fists, clearly angry and disappointed. The golden-eyed man felt a little nervous.
Matthew didn’t intend to upset Nemo. He genuinely hadn’t expected him to see through the truth so quickly. God knows, Matthew had deliberately limited their meetings, relying mostly on texts and calls to guide him. His original plan had been to slowly build a friendship and then "accidentally" discover Nemo’s amnesia through mutual acquaintances, presenting himself as a concerned friend and smoothly coaxing Nemo into his own medical facilities for a thorough checkup and treatment.
One misstep had thrown everything off course, but Matthew believed his initial move wasn’t wrong. If Nemo was this perceptive, he couldn’t possibly overlook Matthew’s goodwill.
"You have an excellent foundation of trust from someone I deeply respect—enough to entrust them with my life. Our interactions have convinced me to tell you this much because you deserve to know. Since it’s inconvenient to give specific answers right now, I hope you’ll believe me. All in all, I’m honored to have met Nemo Captain as my new friend." This time, Matthew extended his hand first.
The world’s richest man gripped the cold end of the fire poker, his expression stiffening.
"You know I still really want to hit you, right?" From the first day, Nemo had suspected Matthew’s motives but couldn’t dismiss the possibility of overthinking it. Drawing the wrong conclusion would insult a sincere friendship—something intolerable for someone like Nemo, who had lived an almost solitary life.
Regardless of motives, Nemo’s feelings about Matthew’s possible PTSD reactions and compensatory behavior hadn’t changed. After all, Matthew’s misfortunes—aside from the initial kidnapping—were verifiable facts, and his determination to fulfill someone’s peculiar request only confirmed his unresolved trauma.
An entire month! Nemo had been caught in the tension between truth and deception, analyzing every word and action, every layer of subtext in their conversations, to deduce every possible scenario. It was exhausting.
Now that the truth had come out, it only unraveled a greater mystery. Nemo was on the verge of beating Matthew Grimm to death with his bare hands for being such an idiot.