Carrying with him expectations for the future, Nolan strolled through the streets of Manhattan.
Everyone knew that eighty percent of New York's danger came from Hell's Kitchen.
The other twenty percent? It certainly wouldn't show up in Manhattan.
After all, this was the city's wealthy district no one came here looking for trouble.
Central Park, right in the heart of Manhattan, was one of the most beautiful places in New York.
Since arriving in this world, Nolan had been consumed with preventing his company's collapse. This was the first time he had actually stepped outside to relax.
The reason? Charles had insisted:
"Thankfully, the crisis is under control for now. You should go out more, Nolan. You're the boss of Locke Corporation, and believe me, you'll turn plenty of heads."
Nolan didn't care much about women, but he agreed that it was time to look beyond the office walls. Of course, if a beautiful girl happened to cross his path, he wouldn't complain.
And in fact, a few did try striking up conversations with him.
For the occasion, he had deliberately changed into an expensive suit uncomfortable as it was and strapped on a stylish watch that made him feel even stiffer.
That cursed charm of his.
Unfortunately, the women he encountered weren't exactly up to his standards, which left him slightly disappointed.
To console himself, he grabbed a greasy burger, biting into the heavy calories with satisfaction.
Once he'd relaxed enough, he headed home.
There weren't many people on the road.
As he walked, a drunk stumbled toward him.
Nolan frowned and shifted aside to avoid contact.
But just as they were about to pass each other, Nolan's pupils contracted.
The drunk pulled a gun from his jacket!
Someone wants me dead?
What do I do?!
Even as his mind raced, Nolan's body instinctively dodged.
Bang! Bang!
Two shots rang out. Agonizing pain shot through his left arm.
He'd been hit.
Fortunately, the shooter's aim was sloppy. Clearly, he wasn't a professional killer.
But a quick glance around showed no cover, nowhere to hide.
Despair surged in Nolan's chest.
"Damn it!"
But at the edge of desperation came a surge of courage.
Then charge him!
He wasn't some weakling. The body he inherited had been honed by years of fitness training.
If there was no escape, then he'd kill his attacker with his own hands.
With a roar, Nolan threw himself at the gunman.
I won't die here! I refuse to die!
The man sneered, raising his gun again.
He had missed before, but he wouldn't this time.
"Bastard!" Nolan bellowed.
Bang! Bang!
Two more shots. Nolan managed to twist away, the bullets grazing past.
They were now only a step apart.
Hope flared in Nolan's chest.
But then another shot.
Pain ripped through his abdomen, coldness spreading in its wake.
It's over!
He collapsed, a scream tearing from his throat.
The agony was unbearable. He had never known pain like this.
The gunman walked over, pressing the barrel to Nolan's forehead.
"Hey, kid. Next time… ah, forget it. You don't get a next time."
Nolan saw the man's finger tightening on the trigger.
Terror. Despair. He couldn't even put words to what he felt.
He shut his eyes, giving up all struggle.
So this is it? My second life ends here?
Will I even get another chance to start over?
Just then
A deafening crash echoed through the street.
The gunman screamed in pain.
Forcing his eyes open, Nolan saw a girl with long black hair walking toward him.
"Hey, are you okay?" she asked.
A beauty saving the hero?
He had once dreamed of being a superhero, driven by his own interests.
But he had never imagined he would be the one saved.
Damn it!
His body trembled from the brush with death, the adrenaline finally overwhelming him.
And then he fainted.
When he awoke, it was already the next day.
"White ceilings again," Nolan muttered.
The sight reminded him of his last life before transmigration, filling him with sudden melancholy.
"You're awake?"
As he dazedly looked around, the girl from last night walked into the room.
She looked only seventeen or eighteen, younger than him, and strikingly pretty.
"You're lucky. The doctor said the bullet just grazed your arm, and the wound in your stomach didn't hit any vital organs. With rest, you'll recover."
Nolan let out a deep breath of relief.
"Thank you. I didn't even get your name."
"Jessica. Jessica Jones."
Hearing it, Nolan froze for a moment. No wonder she'd looked familiar.
"Do you know why that man was trying to kill you?" Jessica asked earnestly.
At this time, she was still just a young woman with newfound powers, full of passion and justice.
"I'm not sure."
Nolan frowned, though inwardly he already had an idea. A chill crept down his spine.
He had thought this was nothing more than business rivalry.
But he had never expected someone to actually want him dead.
Still, it was only a possibility, and not a likely one.
After all, just like Tony Stark, he was a money machine for the board of directors. Surely no one would be foolish enough to sabotage that.
"Can you call the police for me?"
"Of course."
Jessica nodded.
Nolan felt another wave of relief.
The shooter hadn't worn a mask. In a district full of surveillance cameras, escape was nearly impossible.
He had confidence the police would handle it.
That same day, Charles came rushing over after hearing the news, hiring the best nurses to care for him.
Still, Nolan felt safer with Jessica around.
A man's pride?
At a time like this, he could set it aside.
"Jessica, could I hire you to protect me for a while?"
Jessica hesitated.
"But I need to earn money. I'm an orphan I can't survive without income."
Hearing this, Nolan grabbed her hand with sudden urgency.
"You may not know my name, but you must know Locke Corporation. Believe me, money will never be an issue if you work for me."
Her cheeks flushed at his grip.
"Fine. I'll be your bodyguard. But only for a short time."
Nolan's eyes flicked to her figure.
Small now, but promising for the future.
And she could fight as well as keep him company.
"Actually, if you'd like, to make things less awkward… you could just be my girlfriend. I wouldn't mind at all." Nolan declared with absolute seriousness.
At that, Jessica yanked her hand free and bolted out of the room.
Nolan sighed in regret.
So much for America's supposed openness. Asking someone to be his girlfriend the moment they met was still too much.
But he wasn't worried.
Jessica Jones clearly had a kind heart. She wouldn't abandon him.
At least, he hoped not.
During his recovery, sales of the Locke Corporation's K-01 cargo mechs exploded.
In just half a month, over six thousand units had been sold.
The revenue was more than enough to drag the company back from the edge of bankruptcy, and even hinted at greater success ahead.
But Nolan's heart grew heavy.
The shooter who had nearly killed him had vanished without a trace.
Had the Manhattan police gone blind?!