In the meeting hall of Ultraman Building.
There were no windows here, only cold metal walls and pale, harsh lighting.
A group of people dressed in bizarre costumes were arguing fiercely around a huge circular metal table.
Their voices were sharp and irritable; some slapped the table, some waved their arms, and spit flew everywhere.
Yet, not a single person dared to actually make a move.
If a local were to stumble in here, they would likely be scared stiff and collapse on the spot.
Because those sitting around this table were all the most notorious super-powered criminals from various cities.
Any one of them, if plucked out, would be enough to plunge a city into panic.
And at this moment, these people who were lawless outside were corralled around this table like a pack of Beasts, able only to vent their dissatisfaction through roaring.
Just then, the noisy sounds were abruptly silenced, as if someone had pressed a mute button.
Everyone, almost simultaneously, turned their heads stiffly to look at the door.
A figure was floating there.
He did not touch the ground, his toes hovering two centimeters above the cold floor.
He floated in silently and then slowly took his seat in the only empty high-backed chair at the round table.
Ultraman.
The air in the entire hall seemed to freeze.
The super-powered criminals who were roaring just a second ago were now all holding their breath.
Some people’s pupils constricted, their bodies trembling uncontrollably; some lowered their heads deeply, not daring to meet those blue eyes; others subconsciously shrank back, wanting to hide themselves in the shadows.
Ultraman surveyed the people in front of him.
Some faces were familiar, looking very much like the superheroes he saw on TV before he transmigrated.
But here, beneath the similar skins were entirely different souls.
“Not a single one is innocent.” Ultraman thought to himself.
The vast majority of these people had committed crimes enough to warrant being shot ten times over, if judged by the laws of his previous life.
However, this World had chosen them.
This damn World had dealt superpowers like a deck of cards, dealing them almost entirely into the hands of this scum.
He did not speak; silence itself was the sharpest weapon.
The atmosphere in the hall became increasingly heavy, to the point where one could almost hear the faint sound of some people’s teeth chattering from extreme nervousness.
“I believe I’ve said it before.”
Ultraman’s voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone’s ears, as if the speaker were whispering right beside them.
“Everyone is allowed only their own territory.” Ultraman’s tone had no fluctuation, as if stating a law of physics.
“Without my permission, cross-city cooperation is forbidden.”
His gaze fell upon two figures across the conference table who were already shaking like chaff.
The two opened their mouths, wanting to defend themselves, but their throats could only produce “gurgling” sounds.
The next second, two scorching red beams flashed silently.
Too fast to even blink.
Accompanied by two shrill screams, their left arms were severed at the elbows, falling onto the floor with a dull thud.
The wounds were charred black, with barely any blood flowing out; the blood vessels had been instantly cauterized by the high heat.
The two super-powered criminals rolled on the ground holding their severed arms, wailing, but even so, they did not make any move to resist, nor did they even dare to flee; they simply curled up on the ground, letting the pain tear at their nerves.
The others around them silently moved their chairs to distance themselves from the two unlucky ones, with no sympathy on their faces, only the relief of surviving a disaster and a deeper fear.
Ultraman watched all of this indifferently.
Every single person here, from the unruly to the submissive, had been suppressed by his own hands, one by one.
With violence, with fear, and occasionally with Death.
He allowed these super-powered criminals to profit within their own territories, but there were only two bottom lines: maintain the most basic order between cities and do not allow the slaughter of ordinary people.
That was all; he couldn’t be bothered to manage more, and he had no mood to be some kind of savior.
“Next Monday, the Crime Syndicate will meet.” Ultraman’s voice sounded again, brief and unquestionable.
“Those qualified are not allowed to be late.”
As the last word fell, the person in the seat had already vanished.
Leaving behind only a room full of criminals who hadn’t yet recovered from their fear, and two charred arms on the floor.
The Crime Syndicate.
This was the massive organization that Ultraman had personally integrated, gathering these capable and threatening criminals together.
The purpose was simple: rather than letting them run wild in the shadows, it was better to keep them under his nose, establish rules, and make them check and balance each other.
…
The sunlight outside was lovely.
Ultraman, no, he should be called Karl now.
He had changed into ordinary casual clothes, a pair of old-fashioned black-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and he was carrying a large box that looked quite heavy as he walked toward a building.
A faded wooden sign hung at the entrance of the building, which read “Sunshine Orphanage”.
“Big Brother Karl is here!”
Before he even reached the door, a child squatting by the sandbox playing with a toy car suddenly looked up, eyes lighting up, and shouted at the top of their lungs.
This shout seemed to trigger some kind of chain reaction.
“Where? Where?”
“It really is Big Brother Karl!”
“Big Brother Karl—”
A dozen or so children of various ages swarmed out from every corner of the orphanage, like a flock of chirping little sparrows, instantly surrounding the tall Karl.
Their little faces were filled with undisguised excitement and joy.
Karl, that is, Ultraman, pushed up his glasses, a gentle smile appearing on his face that was completely different from the one in the meeting hall: “Children, long time no see.”
His ordinary identity on Earth was called Kal-El, a plain name that wasn’t anything special—well, actually, it wasn’t that ordinary either.
“Big Brother Karl, look! This is my new drawing!” A little girl stood on her tiptoes, struggling to hold up a doodle, on which a little person wearing a cape was drawn crookedly with crayons.
“Big Brother Karl, play hide-and-seek with me!”
“Big Brother Karl promised to tell us a story last time!”
…
The children chirped away, some tugging at his clothes, others hugging his legs, their enthusiasm overwhelming.
Karl smiled gently, responding to each one, and opened the large box in his hand; it was packed full of toys, snacks, and books.
This World was a World led by super-powered criminals, but ordinary people still existed, living hard, ordinary lives.
And kind people still needed to be protected.
This matter had nothing to do with whether he was a hero, nor did it have anything to do with whether this World was crazy.
…
In the evening, the children were finally tired from playing and were led back by the aunties to eat.
Karl stood alone in the open space of the orphanage’s backyard, facing a wide view of the city.
The afterglow of the setting sun spilled over the dense residential buildings.
In the distance, there was cooking smoke and lights; ordinary people were still living their insignificant lives.
He watched all of this quietly, the warm orange-red light reflecting in his blue eyes beneath his glasses.
Then, a cold, mechanical notification sound exploded in his mind without warning.
『Ding—』
Karl’s pupils constricted sharply.
The gentleness on his face faded instantly, replaced by a layer of cold vigilance.
The next second, all sounds within a radius of several kilometers flooded into his brain—he had activated his super hearing.
The footsteps of pedestrians, the roar of vehicle engines, the evening news on a distant TV, the argument of a couple in the next block, the rustling of rats in the sewer…
Massive amounts of sound information were processed and filtered at high speed.
There was nothing unusual.
His body tensed slightly, his gaze becoming dangerous.
Who was it?
Who could approach to this distance without a sound?
His mental power instantly swept out, ready to find this audacious intruder.
Then, a line of floating text appeared before his eyes.
『Welcome to the Multiverse Chat Group—』
Karl was stunned for a second.
“What the hell?”