Because those who came looking for trouble always ended up in a terrible state. Everyone in the city knew about the psychology clinic downtown—from Lorien to Gwen, to Wanda, and even that new twelve- or thirteen-year-old boy...
At the mention of the boy named Billy Batson, some people couldn't help but twitch their lips. He really thought his identity was well-hidden. But nearly everyone had already seen him transform from a child into an adult. In Gotham City, secrets didn't last long without strong protection.
"That kid's physiology is unbelievable—just like the Hulk's," Wanda said, recalling how Bruce Banner and the Hulk once shared the same body in the old Marvel universe.
"The Hulk and Billy Batson are different," Lorien replied calmly. "Shazam and Billy Batson are one and the same. Even when he turns into an adult, he still thinks and acts like a child—immature and troublesome."
At that, Gwen and Wanda exchanged awkward looks.
"True. He's a headache, but luckily those who really hold power wouldn't bother with a kid."
After all, the boy's antics were just small-time trouble. They caused no real damage. For Gotham's true powers, there was no need to take any action or even respond. Billy Batson could only deal with street thugs.
Like those who thought they were better than everyone else, loudly preaching against white discrimination while harboring even stronger prejudice themselves. In Gotham, Asian faces were always easy targets. Even frail-looking kids weren't spared.
On one street, two boys around twelve or thirteen huddled together, trembling.
"Didn't I tell you? You were supposed to bring the money today!"
A swaggering man grabbed one boy by the hair.
"My family doesn't have much. I already gave you a lot the other day. You said you'd let me go and stop asking for money," the boy said timidly, resentment flickering in his eyes.
"My word means nothing. Who in Gotham doesn't know that?" The man sneered. "You think you can ignore me, throw my words back at me, and walk away fine today?"
"I'm not giving you any more money," the boy said again, his tone firm.
But his defiance earned him no mercy. The man shoved him hard to the ground.
"I told you once. Didn't hear me? Then I'll make sure you do!"
He gestured to his cronies, who immediately began to beat the boy. The child could only curl up, shielding his head as blows rained down, his small body trembling with pain.
"Stop! Don't touch him again!"
Billy Batson, on his way home to sleep, saw the scene and felt a surge of anger.
He rushed forward, grabbed two of the bullies, and hurled them aside. They hit the ground with a thud, groaning in pain.
"You feel pain, don't you? Then imagine how much worse it is for him," Billy said coldly.
"Leave me alone."
The boy looked at Billy Batson as he spoke.
In Gotham City, whenever people saw him and his friends being bullied, they would always walk away, keeping their distance, never showing any intention to help. This was the first time they had ever felt someone's goodwill—and it came from an adult, the kind of person who usually hurt them most.
"How could I not care? I saw everything. Don't worry, none of these guys are any match for me!"
With that, he charged at the obvious leader across the street, grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him high into the air.
"You need to apologize to those two. No... you and your men must both apologize to them. If you don't, I'm not putting you down!"
The ringleader coughed violently, slapping at Billy Batson's arm.
He thought to himself that he really should have checked the calendar before stepping out today—what rotten luck, running into a lunatic!
This guy had him by the neck. Even if he wanted to apologize, how could he possibly say the words like this? It was impossible.
Billy Batson spoke without the slightest awareness of how wrong his actions were, continuing insistently, "I already told you to apologize! Why aren't you doing it?"
"Cough... cough—"
The man in his grip was on the verge of passing out when one of the boys behind Billy spoke up.
"He's about to die."
"What?"
Billy was startled. He immediately let go, and the man dropped heavily to the ground with a loud thud.
A harsh coughing fit erupted from his throat.
"I'm really sorry! I didn't think that through!" Billy said quickly.
The man clutched his neck, feeling miserable. If anyone else had done that to him, he'd have already unleashed a torrent of curses and blows. But the unstable-looking man standing before him clearly wasn't someone he could afford to mess with.
He got to his feet and immediately tried to leave with his men.
If they didn't get the money today, so be it. He could always come back another time.
As he thought this, his gaze flicked to the two boys behind Billy, his eyes dark and resentful. He refused to believe that this strong-looking man would keep protecting them every day.
That was exactly what the gang leader was thinking.
He turned to go, leading his men away—but after only a few steps, someone blocked their path.
"Where do you think you're going? Didn't I tell you to stay and apologize first? You can leave only after you do—no, you and your men can leave together after apologizing. Otherwise, we'll just stay right here."
"Don't push it! I'm the boss—how could I apologize to a bunch of kids?"
"Why not? Do adults get to avoid apologizing when they're wrong? That's completely unfair."
"Who cares about fairness at a time like this?"
He really is out of his mind.
"If you still won't apologize, don't blame me for giving you a proper lesson."
Billy Batson tightened his fists as he spoke. His knuckles cracked sharply, the sound making everyone's skin crawl.