A busy night…
It wasn't until the next morning, when the nanny knocked on the door, that the exhausted Mike was finally freed.
Damn Raven—why did she send the nanny home last night?
Mike sighed inwardly.
"Mr. Kent."
The plump middle-aged nanny, Norma, held Clark and, seeing Mike's tired face, sighed. "Taking care of a child alone is really hard."
Mike rubbed his forehead. "It's fine. I'm getting used to it."
Norma smiled and brought Clark closer, lowering her voice. "Raising a child is still a woman's job. You can't have a household without a woman."
Hearing this, Mike immediately grew alert.
What is Norma trying to do? Don't tell me she's recommending herself?
He quickly glanced at her plump figure, shuddered, and hurriedly said, "It's fine. I'm used to it already."
"That won't do!" Norma said with concern, as if thinking for his sake. "I know a pretty girl—she's pregnant and wants to get married. I think you'd be a good match. After all, you already have a child."
Wealthy, handsome, and owning a farm—if she were twenty years younger, she wouldn't let such a man go to someone else.
Mike's face darkened.
What, do I look like a fallback option?
He stiffened his expression. "No need."
Grabbing his coat, he walked downstairs. "I have something to take care of. Look after Clark."
Norma watched his back, looking regretful.
She still thought Mike and her daughter were a good match. She'd find another chance to bring it up. If it didn't work… her daughter would have to go to the hospital.
Mike drove to New York, cruising down the streets, feeling the atmosphere of the 1980s, and sighed.
This era had far fewer ways to pass the time.
But compared to his previous world, this one was far more dangerous.
Super technology, alien invasions, magical dimensions, mutants, superheroes, and criminals…
Just thinking about what might happen in the future gave Mike a headache.
Still, none of that had anything to do with him. Once he finished handling these matters, he would go home and focus on raising his child.
No more killing—life like that sounded pretty good.
Thinking about his "retired" life, Mike couldn't help but smile.
…
New York, a café.
"As long as you help me kill him, and you don't leak any of the organization's secrets, I guarantee no one will come after you. That's my promise."
The dark-skinned Sloan smiled at Mike and added, "I'm far more trustworthy than Kuqi."
Mike replied calmly, "Deal."
Sloan froze for a moment.
He had expected to spend more time persuading him, but Mike agreed so easily.
But when he met Mike's gaze, a chill ran through him.
If I break my promise, he'll kill me…
That was the message he read—clear and undisguised.
"Heh." Sloan chuckled softly. "Here's my plan. On Wednesday—"
"Stop." Mike raised his hand. "I don't want to hear your long, intricate plan."
In his view, the more steps a plan had, the easier it was to fail. One mistake, and everything would collapse.
Tapping the table, Mike said, "Just tell me the time, place, and number of people."
Sloan was stunned, then smiled. "You're as confident as ever."
Mike stood up. "Send me the intel tonight. This is my number."
With a flick of his fingers, a card with a phone number landed on the table. Then Mike quickly left.
Sloan picked up the card.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
Male Infertility Hospital — Dr. Luchi.
Flipping it over and seeing the handwritten number on the back, he sighed in relief, tucked it away, placed some money under the coffee cup, and left.
…
Mike's home—or more accurately, his safe house.
Pushing open the apartment door, Mike saw Raven lounging on the sofa.
"You're here?"
Raven paused, then frowned. "Why aren't you surprised at all?"
"This is the third place you've found. How could I still be surprised?"
"Giggle." Raven covered her mouth exaggeratedly. "Do you have any other safe houses?"
Mike replied flatly, "Who knows?"
Raven turned serious. "How did your talk with Sloan go?"
"You care a lot about this?"
"Because it involves you," Raven said sincerely.
Mike let out a cold laugh. "That's not funny."
"Boring." Raven lazily reclined again.
Suddenly, Mike said, "You're working with Sloan to rescue the Hellfire Club leader who was captured two years ago?"
Raven shot upright, her tone turning cold. "Are you going to stop me?"
Mutants…
Ever since the Hellfire Club stirred up trouble worldwide, trying to secure space for mutants through force, most ordinary people had developed strong hostility toward them.
Two years ago, after their leader was captured by S.H.I.E.L.D., the Hellfire Club became more low-key. Raven had joined the Assassin Alliance around that time.
Aside from Mike—who had accidentally discovered her mutant identity during a mission—no one else in the organization knew.
Now, Sloan might know too… but only maybe.
"Do I look that bored?" Mike said.
Raven stared at him for a few seconds, then relaxed and lay back down, idly twirling her blonde hair. "You're not bored. You've got a child to take care of."
"If you're just here to confirm whether I reached an agreement with Sloan, you can leave now."
"Oh, so heartless. I also wanted to ask—what was that favor you mentioned yesterday?"
"You'll find out after Kuqi is dead."
Raven stood up, gave Mike a charming smile, casually shifted into another appearance, and left.
It seemed she owed Mike yet another favor.
After she left, Mike sat on the couch. With a thought, a dagger appeared out of thin air in his hand.
He tossed it lightly in the air, his expression calm.
After two months of experimentation, he had come to understand several things about his ability:
First, "Memory Imagination Manifestation" allowed him to materialize things from his memories. He could make slight adjustments, but only to a limited extent.
Second, the "memories" referred to those from before he crossed into this world. Anything from after couldn't be manifested.
Third, manifested objects had a time limit. But since his ability was only Level 1, who knew what would happen later? He still hadn't even figured out how to level it up.
Fourth, each manifestation required time—the more familiar he was with the object, the faster it appeared. Right now, the object he was most proficient with was a dagger.
Fifth, so far, he couldn't manifest modern weapons. Whether that was due to system limitations or his low level, he didn't know.
In the end, he reached one conclusion—
"Garbage ability!"