Not long after.
When Ken, hidden in the shadows across the street, shifted his body, the projection inside the repair shop moved along with him.
Mikaela got a clear look at the small black figure's face. "…That's Ken."
Lake asked, "You know him?"
Mikaela nodded. "Yeah, Ken used to be with 98K."
Lake paused slightly. "98K? Are gang names around here really that random?"
Speaking of 98K, the name sounded oddly familiar.
And "used to be"?
Weren't gangs supposed to be like the underworld—easy to join, hard to leave?
Could it be that modern gangs were this rule-abiding now?
Mikaela said, "Yep, 98K. Three months ago, 98K and the Gucci family had a shootout at Queens Port. Ken was there, but just like now, he hid in a corner. 98K took heavy losses. If it weren't for Ken's uncle being a minor leader in 98K, he'd have been thrown into the sea to feed the sharks instead of just losing three fingers."
Lake let out an abrupt laugh.
Every race had its talents, no doubt about it. Just like Lake had a knack for homesickness and farming, people of Ken's complexion had their own gifts. Look at that—darkness was their best friend.
Close your eyes, shut your big mouth, stand in the shadows, and—by the stars above—it was like blending into the dark itself.
Three fingers?
Lake's gaze landed on the projected image, then he looked at Ken's left hand and instructed Agatha, "Agatha, zoom in on that part."
As the words fell, Ken's projection was quickly isolated, and his left hand was enhanced and magnified.
Well, alright.
The left hand really only had a thumb and pinky left. Looks like the 98K folks were pretty merciful after all.
Think about it—the thumb could signal "great," the pinky could signal "lame."
"This little black guy's probably just a lookout."
"…How do you know?"
Mikaela glanced curiously at Lake, then said, "One time, some 98K guys came here to fix a car and chatted with my dad. They mentioned that after Ken left 98K, he started hanging out with Benjamin and his crew."
"And who's this Benjamin?"
Mikaela said, "Another local small-time thug, but he's doing pretty well for himself. He specifically targets outsiders and doesn't mess with other gangs' business, so the other gangs don't bother with him. Why don't you leave first? They're definitely after you."
Lake looked at Mikaela. "What about you?"
Mikaela said, "My dad shed blood for 98K. Otherwise, do you think I could live so peacefully on these gang-ridden streets? A pretty girl like me with no background would've been eaten alive by those animals long ago."
Lake's lips twitched slightly. "Mikaela, I'm getting more and more curious about what you'll be like once you become a god."
He had to admit, though this trip had been derailed by spacetime turbulence and a crash landing, the outcome wasn't half bad.
The Marvel Earth was still an Earth, just like a rotten egg was still an egg. Plus, meeting someone as foul-mouthed and unpretentious as Mikaela—Lake felt it might just be fate.
Mikaela made a rather carefree gesture. "Alright, get going. It's not dark yet. Once you're out of Queens, you'll be safe."
Lake snapped back to reality and shook his head.
Mikaela frowned slightly.
Lake's gaze settled on the small black figure, Ken. "A god never fears anything, let alone a mere mortal."
Mikaela spoke up. "But you're not a god right now. You said so yourself."
And one who couldn't even take a hit from a baseball bat.
Mikaela added that in her mind.
Lake smiled faintly. "Even if the stars and the sun and moon have temporarily lost track of me, I'm still a god, no question about it. When faced with a mortal's provocation, some gods might laugh it off, while others unleash the fury of thunder. Guess which kind I am?"
Mikaela tested the waters. "The first kind?"
Lake burst into laughter.
If he were the first kind of god, would his name be so freely mocked by the people of Valoran?
Lake reminisced. "Back in the day, the Lava Behemoth tried to turn itself into a mountain to crush me. It ended up as a pile of shattered rocks. The Bio-Freak wanted to tie me up—I threw him into the Zaun Madman's potion furnace. The ancient creature, Brand, the Burning Vengeance, planned to turn my planet, Liss, into a world of fire. I slapped him dead with one palm and buried him in the underworld's soil. Oh, I even put up a gravestone for him. And then there's Evelynn. I didn't kill her, though—I killed her husband. After that, I heard she earned a title in Valoran: the Widowmaker."
His history in Valoran was undeniably glorious. If he went into detail, ten years wouldn't be enough to tell it all.
Lake recalled his Valoran exploits, then came back to the present. He looked at Mikaela, who was listening to his tales, the corners of his mouth curving upward. "Now, Mikaela, what kind do you think I am?"
Mikaela blinked, thinking of the Lava Behemoth, Bio-Freak, Zaun Madman, Burning Vengeance… and the Widowmaker from Lake's stories. She swallowed quietly. "The second kind?"
The words dropped!
Click!
A mechanical transformation sound rang out instantly.
The bracelet on Lake's right arm detached automatically, swiftly reassembling into a sleek, sci-fi-style weapon—a Gauss precision magnetic sniper rifle. Nearly silent when fired, its shots were dazzling, with bullets trailing a blue arc of electricity.
He gripped the gun.
Aimed.
Fired.
In one fluid motion, Lake didn't even shift his body. A brilliant blue streak shot from the barrel, carrying a similarly futuristic bullet that reached Ken's position in the blink of an eye.
Bang!
Ken's head burst like an overripe watermelon. Then, a small black dot appeared behind him. With a whoosh, the dot expanded into a small black ring, as if darkness itself had opened its maw and swallowed the headless Ken whole.
In the blink of an eye, Ken vanished without a trace. If there was any evidence he'd been there, it'd be the watermelon-like juice splattered around the shadows.
Click again.
Lake reattached the bracelet, shaking his head with a smile. "It's been a while since I last used a gun, but looks like my aim's still spot-on. What do you think, Mikaela?"
As he spoke.
Lake turned to Mikaela beside him, only to see her face shifting through a range of emotions, staring at the projection synced between the repair shop and the street outside.
The next second.
Mikaela covered her mouth with both hands, pushed the door open, and bolted outside.