Mid-thought, an idea suddenly struck Michael—no, a realization.
"What am I even doing? Isn't the Association responsible for handling supernatural affairs?"
For a moment, Michael felt stupid.
It was clear that even with enhanced cognitive abilities, high mental processing power didn't equate to perfect intelligence.
Then again, "smart" was a subjective term.
Not everyone could have handled the current situation as well as Michael did, even if they had better resources.
After the realization hit him that he was concerning himself with matters far outside his paycheck—something he didn't even have—Michael immediately pulled out his phone.
He had a new plan: to inform the Association.
The Supers Association had its own hotline, with each branch maintaining specific numbers.
However, like most regular people, Michael hadn't memorized it. If it wasn't the police hotline, it wasn't exactly common knowledge.