Matthew drove out of the underground parking lot, pressing the accelerator without thinking. He asked reflexively, “Where did you get the golf club? That’s on the list of prohibited dangerous items for the evening.”

Nemo glanced back, closely monitoring the giant mosquito swarm trailing behind them, and replied, “After you drew away a huge batch of mosquitoes, a lot of the guests from the hotel hid inside the banquet hall. I asked them whose trunk had golf equipment or clubs and borrowed their car keys. I wanted to check other escape routes, and I ended up with three sets of keys.” Then, Nemo had used the emergency exit door as cover, waiting for Matthew to drive by.

When Nemo called Matthew’s phone, he wasn’t expecting much. If Matthew couldn’t drive back to pick him up, he could always use the borrowed car keys to catch up.

“Where’s your driver? Shouldn’t he be on standby in the car?” Nemo knew all too well that with Matthew's heightened awareness, there was no way he would park his car in the underground garage, a spot vulnerable to blockades or ambushes. And of course, he wouldn't rely on just one vehicle.

“I had him and the bodyguards go pick up the people who managed to escape the hotel and are taking refuge elsewhere. The Rolls-Royce can fit more people, and anyway, I still have a spare Ford,” Matthew explained.

The rich was clear: when facing inhuman monsters, his bodyguards were only good as cannon fodder, leaving Matthew with more psychological trauma. It was better to send them to rescue people and reward them afterward.

“I need to get back to the headquarters quickly and assemble the medical team to analyze the unknown venom. If we’re attacked on the way, the survival rate at headquarters is much higher. The city hospital can’t handle this.” Matthew gestured to the residue on the golf club. “Nemo, why aren’t you staying inside the hotel? What are you up to?”

“I’d love to stick around with the killer, but obviously, a scumbag like that wouldn’t show his hand so easily. The abilities of most superpowers aren’t fully developed yet, and the person controlling these mosquitoes probably has a range limitation. If we get out of their effective range, he or she’ll have to chase us, and then you’ll have the opportunity to use the hotel’s surveillance system to identify suspicious targets.”

Since Matthew had left the hotel, Nemo had to follow him, and sure enough, many of the mosquitoes were trailing after the richest man.

“You’re thinking exactly like I am. We may not be able to pinpoint the mastermind, but we can provide other superheroes with an opportunity. The key is to catch this bug-summoner. Once we do, we’ll figure out where these giant mosquitoes came from and how to treat it.” Matthew didn’t think the hotel was safer. Wherever he went, it would be more dangerous because he was a prime target, and Matthew needed to stay away from the crowd.

“I’m more worried about those out-of-control mosquitoes. Damn it!” Nemo cursed through gritted teeth.

If Nemo were a terrorist, he wouldn’t just bring controllable biological weapons to target Matthew. He’d spread a certain number of dangerous creatures throughout the city to exhaust the military, police, and superheroes, thus weakening the safety net around Matthew Grimm.

“That excuse about needing to reach headquarters to communicate with superheroes is a load of crap! I bet this phone in your hand is more than enough. If yours is lost, you can use mine. Have you contacted any superheroes?” Nemo pressed without mercy.

"You’re definitely not charming in this state."Matthew showed Nemo the text messages he had received, with preliminary responses from their contact.

The nature of the giant mosquitoes was troublesome. They appeared weak but were easily capable of spreading harm and panic. The long-term damage from their bites was still unclear. Aside from the almost omnipotent Michael, the other superheroes could only rely on their own powers to reduce the number of monsters. But there were other incidents to deal with in different places. The message was clear: someone would come to help, but the number of heroes that could be deployed was uncertain.

To put it bluntly, the giant mosquitoes, as small creatures, should have been something the U.S. military could handle. It was up to civilians to stay out of the way to minimize casualties.

"Didn't you beg for someone to help you escape if you lost the ability to move?" Nemo sneered.

"So I’m more important than your roommate?" Matthew responded, touched.

"No, I just think it's fine for Tolya to go alone," Nemo replied casually.

"..." Matthew quietly wished that, one day, Nemo would offer him more than a fleeting moment of emotional solace.

"By the way, my work with Tolya is split. He’s at Westlake Restaurant saving people, while I’m aiming to take down the mosquito killer. If there are legal issues, brushing your face will make things easier."

Matthew shrugged and said, "I suppose that's the point of my existence."

“I didn’t see Angie?” Nemo asked. He knew Matthew hadn’t brought Angie with him to protect her, as open spaces were too dangerous. Even when fighting the giant mosquitoes, narrow hallways and rooms favored humans, as they made it easier to isolate and hide inside.

Stolen story; please report.

But Matthew didn’t seem to have assigned any bodyguards to protect Angie either—at least Nemo hadn’t noticed. The banquet hall had fallen into chaos after the giant mosquitoes flew in and killed someone. Nemo didn’t know when, but the striking figure of the Taiwanese supermodel with the ponytail had disappeared.

“After your roommate told the old lady and her son to leave first, I think I saw Angie following them. Maybe they were the lucky few who managed to escape through the emergency exit, capitalizing on the timing.”

Matthew had once said that the woman he liked could kill seven or eight giant mosquitoes with her high heels. Nemo believed him.

As they drove onto the city’s main street, alarms blared throughout the area. Most vehicles had pulled over to the side, and people rushed into nearby buildings to seek shelter, helping to seal off any entry points that the giant mosquitoes could use to invade.

Though Lone Star City was encountering monster invasions for the first time, the citizens, having closely followed superhero and monster news in the months following the Meteor Shower Event, had prepared mentally for disaster. But they hadn’t expected the first wave to consist of disgusting, bloodsucking giant mosquitoes.

On second thought, the enemy wasn’t Godzilla; they were just bigger mosquitoes. With a bit of effort, the citizens might even stand a chance.

Armed with shotguns, many of the down-to-earth Lone Star City folk shared victory photos on social media, sparking excitement among relatives and friends in Texas, who also geared up with firepower to form a convoy to offer support. Unfortunately, they were stopped at the city’s border by the National Guard and ended up camping there with protest signs.

This scene of joyous camaraderie was only happening in the suburbs and along the borders, where the giant mosquitoes had only appeared sporadically. The situation in the city center was far more urgent, with gunshots and explosions ringing out as military and police fought the giant mosquitoes.

Even worse, as Matthew’s black Ford approached Grimm Tower, all four tires suddenly deflated, leaving the car stranded in the middle of the street, unable to move. The surrounding area was eerily quiet, except for the sound of the giant mosquitoes’ wings buzzing all around.

"I thought puncture-resistant tires were standard," Nemo said.

"Of course, they're puncture-resistant, even bullets can't go through them. But we just ran over too many bugs, and the dead bug bodies and their fluids stuck in the tires might be highly corrosive. Plus, these giant mosquitoes seem to target the tires intentionally, probably because they know we’re trying to escape to the Grimm Tower. If we make it there, they won’t get another shot at us." The mosquitoes were swarming over the car, and Matthew dared not step out to check, only speculating based on how the tires deflated.

"Looks like we're stuck in the car for now," Nemo said, his tone growing more anxious as he gripped his curly hair. "Honestly, the Rolls-Royce we came in earlier, wasn't it equipped better than this Ford?"

"Of course it was. This Ford is just for low-key transportation. And what about you? Are you scared?" Matthew leaned back against the steering wheel, propping his chin with one hand while glancing at Nemo.

"Obviously. I’m just pretending to play a video game, imagining these mosquitoes are small, red mobs. It’s fine dealing with the scattered ones, but... hell, who wouldn’t be scared being surrounded by this many?" Nemo felt the pressure building inside. He had just seen the brutal, agonizing struggle of a victim in the banquet hall, a man in such immense pain that his suffering seemed far worse than his actual injuries.

Matthew had even said the mosquito fluids could corrode reinforced tires, which felt like being injected with sulfuric acid—through a needle the size of a pencil!

Nemo couldn't even imagine what that feeling was like, but he knew it was excruciating.

"By the way, want to take a look at yourself?" Matthew suddenly asked.

"Are you trying to distract me?" Nemo shot back.

"I really think you should see," Matthew said, hooking his hand around Nemo's neck and pulling him toward the rearview mirror. Nemo's face appeared there, with a sweaty forehead, tangled hair sticking to his eyes, and his eyelashes trembling nervously. The worst part was...

"You didn't clean off that lipstick properly. Looks a bit... sensual, especially that smudge at the corner of your lips. It looks like you were kissed hard." Matthew spoke from experience, having made quite a mess of many faces in his time.

If the media caught this, Matthew thought, he'd simply admit to a different orientation and save the trouble of explanations.

Nemo said nothing, instead pulling his shirt sleeve over his hand to wipe his mouth fiercely.

"Is it clean now?" Nemo asked, unsure why, but he had calmed down.

"Clean," Matthew answered, though he didn't dare mention how Nemo had looked just like a cat licking its face.

"You still have time to care about how clean my face is?" Nemo muttered, realizing how ridiculous it felt to think about survival while sitting next to Matthew Grimm.

"Once you've fallen through the entire atmosphere and into the ocean, it's hard to get scared by a little crisis like this," Matthew said, as if everything were under control, though it wasn’t clear how they'd escape yet.

Nemo wondered if Matthew had already called in an armored car. After all, Grimm Group produced those kinds of vehicles.

"Besides, didn't I promise not to let the media bother you? We should avoid those kinds of misunderstandings. I don't want to come out of the closet with you just after meeting a new girlfriend," Matthew said, though as a famous playboy, it wasn't easy for him to find someone to truly be with, and he had grown fond of this one.

"Do you have backup?" Nemo asked, not thinking Matthew was unprepared, but the best resources were still at the hotel, protecting the civilians. The elite bodyguards had been sent to rescue others.

"Let’s assume a four-man Delta Force team can arrive at this punctured black Ford in five minutes, but they’re already engaged at the hospital, kindergarten, elementary school, and the city hall, should I use the secure line to call their commander for help?" Matthew casually asked, playing with the safety phone that Nemo also had.

Nemo didn’t answer the question. Instead, he asked, "Aren't you considering calling in private aerial support?"

"As these bloodthirsty mosquitoes surround us in droves, that summoner must be hiding somewhere, watching, waiting for the helicopter to get closer. Once the order is given, the mosquitoes will swarm into the propellers—that's it. Besides, there’s a thick layer of mosquitoes all over the car now. Is the airstrike aiming at us?" Matthew sighed dramatically.

"Michael is coordinating with international governments to rescue sinking refugee ships in the Mediterranean, it will take him about twenty minutes to get here. That’s our biggest hope," Matthew added, providing some confidential intel so Nemo could prepare mentally.

"I know you're a guy people love to hate. Do you have any clues about which superpower or a very wealthy opponent sent a hit on you?" Nemo asked.

"In the early days of the Meteor Shower Event, when people had no idea about the fallen objects, I bought up a lot of 'meteorite specimens.' Now, governments have banned buying these objects, so you can only get them on the black market. See, it’s not just about money or personal issues—whether it’s trading with me or having Grimm Group swap management, those with malicious intent have an increased chance of obtaining these objects. with even enemy nations or allies possibly sending killers," Matthew explained.

"Is superpower really that great?" Nemo asked sarcastically.

Even after seeing two parallel world superhero comics, he knew those heroes were always "unfortunate lucky ones," endlessly fighting and losing in a malicious cycle controlled by publishers and profits. In reality, superpowered people had it worse, without even a scriptwriter to bring them back to life.

"Just imagining it is enough to drive you crazy," Matthew snapped his fingers as if the mosquito swarm would disappear, but of course, it didn’t.

Nemo turned on the news radio to check the worsening situation of the insect disaster.

"The city of Lone Star has finally fallen. Our city's superheroes have yet to make an appearance. How long will the Lone Star child continue to sleep? Meanwhile, other superheroes from across the country are battling the mosquito swarms, while the National Guard continues to search district by district, building by building for any 'mosquitoes.' Citizens are urged to stay indoors and seal all exits, Keep vigilant in shifts. For emergency medical assistance, please call the following hotline...

"In unfamiliar territory, facing an unfamiliar enemy, superheroes can suffer irreparable injuries or even death. Despite this, you can still see them fighting the monsters in Lone Star," Matthew's voice echoed.

"Yes." Nemo heard himself answer, and the rest of the comments felt meaningless and unnecessary.

From beginning to end, the heroes simply followed their course, doing what they were meant to do, walking the path laid out before them.