Laura didn’t know how long they had been walking.
She only remembered Green stopping mid-way to send a text, after which he tacitly allowed her to ride on top of the suitcase.
Just as she was leaning against Green’s arm, almost drifting off to sleep, an unusual set of footsteps echoed in her ears.
Instantly wide awake, she leaped down, her claws snapping out as she stared guardedly into the darkness beyond the light beam.
Another beam of light lit up from the opposite direction, expanding rapidly.
“Whoa!
Green, since when did you pick up a superhuman sidekick?” Accompanied by a teasing chuckle, an upright green turtle emerged from the shadows.
He wore a purple bandana and carried a bulging backpack over his heavy shell.
A pair of slightly exaggerated science goggles covered his eyes, his front teeth jutted out prominently, and a headlamp was mounted on his brow.
“You talk too much, Donnie,” Green said, leaning against the slick wall and lighting a cigarette.
This green-shelled turtle was Donatello, the tech wizard of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
As a long-time resident of the subterranean world, Green had crossed paths with them a few times.
He wasn’t sure if Laura had a tracker installed on her.
Donnie had been obsessed with delivery from a certain pizza joint in Hell’s Kitchen lately, meaning he was likely nearby to eat it while it was hot.
So Green had simply messaged him over.
“Alright, alright, Green’s getting shy,” Donnie teased as he pulled a scanner from his bulky pack, adjusting its frequency while walking toward Laura.
Laura stared at the talking turtle.
*Is he edible?* “No, you can’t eat him,” Green answered, as if reading her mind.
“Why do I suddenly feel a chill?
Is my immune system dropping?” Donnie winced, shrinking his neck back before pressing the switch.
*Beep—* The scanner glowed green, moving slowly down from Laura’s head.
When it reached her chest, the indicator light abruptly turned red.
Donnie checked it repeatedly before locking on.
“There’s only one signal source right here.
The placement is nasty—it’s right on the surface of her heart.
Needs surgery to be removed safely.” Green walked straight over, shoved Donnie aside, and stood before Laura.
“Two choices: dig it out right here and now, then I take you to eat, or come with me to a safehouse and use proper medical gear.” “N…
now,” Laura’s voice was a bit rough, but distinct.
“So you’re not mute after all.” Green twitched the corner of his mouth and jerked his chin at Donnie.
“You sure?
The medical gear I have on me isn’t really—” “Just give me the ‘bottle opener’.” “Fine, fine.” Donnie rummaged around, handed over an oddly shaped metallic tool, and turned around conscientiously, muttering, “Like boss, like minion.
That’s gonna hurt like crazy.” Green took the device.
With his other hand, he ripped open Laura’s thin lab coat with a sharp *rip*.
The girl’s body was thin, her skin crisscrossed with scars of varying depth—white laser-cut marks interweaving with paler patches.
Green paused for a brief moment.
He recalled that in *Logan*, Laura had a female nurse who protected and guided her.
“Did someone take care of you?” “Mm.” “Dead?” “Mm.” “Oh.” Green placed a heavy hand on her frail shoulder.
Laura’s body instinctively tensed up, looking up at his focused face.
Ignoring her reaction, Green held the “bottle opener” with a reverse grip, aimed at her heart, and stabbed it in without hesitation.
Blood spurted instantly.
“Ngh—!” The excruciating pain triggered her claws to snap out reflexively as her body thrashed in reaction, but Green held her down with one hand.
“Retract them.” He pressed the button at the end of the tool.
The four metallic prongs at the tip expanded outward, tearing open flesh and revealing the faint, beating outline of her heart beneath her ribs.
Gritting her teeth, Laura slowly retracted her claws, her knuckles turning white from exertion.
Green reached two fingers directly into the wound, probing through the warm, slick tissue.
With a sudden burst of force, he ripped a bloody microchip off the surface of her heart.
Without even looking, he crushed it between his thumb and index finger.
Pulling the tool out, he glanced at Laura.
Her lips were pale from the pain, yet she stubbornly didn’t make a sound.
“Hey, Donnie, a shirt.” “Huh?
Oh…” Donnie reluctantly pulled a neatly folded T-shirt from his backpack.
This was a limited edition!
Green took it and tossed it to Laura.
She caught it, instinctively sniffed it first, and then pulled it over her head.
The shirt was far too baggy; she immediately popped her claws and sliced away the excess length with a few swift *swish-swish*es.
Watching the shreds of fabric float down, Donnie winced in pain for his shirt.
“Just go buy another one.” Green casually tossed a stack of cash over.
Donnie caught it, his spirits lifting immediately.
This was way more than what he and his brothers earned doing odd jobs online.
“Honestly, I’ve got other collector’s editions, do you want—” “Get lost.” Green threw another stack of cash.
“On it!” Donnie actually pulled his limbs into his shell and rolled away down the dark branch channel.
Being a turtle, rolling was pretty smooth anyway.
“And send me Bullseye’s real-time location,” Green added.
“Got it!” the voice echoed back through the winding sewer.
“Let’s go.” Green pulled back Laura’s collar to confirm the wound over her heart was rapidly regenerating, then released his grip and turned around.
“Mm.” Laura obeyed and followed, her footsteps as quiet as a shadow.
Turning past an intersection, an iron ladder extending upward came into view.
Green pushed open the heavy manhole cover with one hand, and the sound of the city instantly rushed into their ears—electronic subway announcements, the roaring wind of trains, and the faint murmurs of crowds.
They climbed out from underground back onto the surface.
Under the stark white lights of the subway station, commuters stood like silent statues.
White-collar workers in suits wore headphones, eyes cast down, lined up neatly behind the yellow warning line, waiting for the next train.
Nobody gave a second glance to the two figures emerging from the maintenance hatch.
Green expressionlessly dragged the suitcase up, and Laura scrambled out right behind him.
He hooked his foot, snapping the cover back into place with a heavy *clack*, the sound drowned out by the roar of an arriving train.
He walked straight toward a convenience store by the platform.
When they came back out, Laura was dressed in a pair of well-fitting black pants and clean canvas sneakers.
She looked down at her feet and tapped the ground lightly.
The socks wrapped warmly around her skin; the shoes felt cozy and solid.
The corners of her mouth curled up involuntarily, almost cracking a smile.
She quickly raised her head and jogged after the figure walking away ahead.
*Ding-dong—* The subway doors slid open.
Green dragged the suitcase inside with Laura following, finding a spot in the corner to sit down.
The train was fairly crowded.
Laura pressed close to Green, her eyes guardedly sweeping over the surrounding commuters.
Naturally, few were willing to sit near a man with such a cold, forbidding aura.
The train accelerated, tunnel lights stretching into flowing bands of light outside the window.
At the far end of the carriage, a young man with a guitar sang enthusiastically while a few female students leaned against the handrail recording him on their phones, bursts of laughter ringing out occasionally.
Laura looked across at a mother and baby sitting opposite them.
The infant in swaddling clothes stared at her curiously.
Laura intentionally bared her teeth in a fierce face, which ended up making the baby laugh instead.
The young mother offered her a friendly, warm smile as well.
However, when the mother’s gaze drifted to Green, her smile faded.
With his arm draped casually over the back of the seat, head resting against the window, eyes narrowed into slitted folds, and an utterly blank face, he hardly looked like a friendly character.
Laura didn’t notice.
Feeling a trace of envy, she bowed her head slightly and quietly scooted a bit closer to Green.
Just then, the TV screen at the front of the carriage lit up with news coverage.
“Earlier this morning, renowned industrialist Tony Stark was successfully rescued after being missing for three weeks.
According to Mr.
Stark, the operation succeeded thanks to timely, accurate intelligence from SHIELD, as well as swift air support from Homelander.
Currently, Stark Industries Vice President Obadiah Stane has publicly expressed his gratitude to both parties, stating they will deepen cooperation and provide technical support…” “Tsk tsk.
What a great actor.” Green stared at Stane’s face on the screen, overflowing with “sincere emotion,” and allowed a barely perceptible twitch to touch the corner of his mouth.
The guy’s phone call would probably be coming very soon.