27 - How to Turn Heroes into Criminals

"From the DA's move, they're very confident about this fight. I've seen the video evidence they submitted to the court, and honestly, if I were a juror, I'd agree with them—if Ben Grimm hadn't shown up on the Brooklyn Bridge, none of this would've happened."

In the luxury sedan, Thomson tried to convince Richards and the Storm siblings.

Richards stayed silent.

Why the fancy car?

Good question. Here's the deal: Richards had money—millions, in fact. But it was his personal stash. That's why he sought investors for his research—he didn't like spending his own cash.

In short.

If the experiment flopped and the investor went bankrupt, what did that have to do with him?

Susan rubbed her forehead, shaking her head, "No, we can't let Ben go to jail."

Johnny wiped his face and turned to Thomson, "We saved tons of people. The public sees us as superheroes."

Superheroes shouldn't be exempt from crimes, even if they're guilty, right?

"Sorry, but once the trial starts, I think a lot of people will change their tune."

Thomson said this to Johnny, then turned to Richards, "Mr. Richards, blunt truth: this is the DA sending us a message. Either let them win this round, or they'll drag all of you to court."

Richards spoke up, "Ben's intent was to save that jumper on the bridge."

Thomson shook his head, "The DA's locked onto one point: no Ben, no incident. And saving someone isn't an excuse for wrecking the Brooklyn Bridge and killing four others."

That's reality.

Saving someone's great—heroic, even. But if saving one person gets four others killed?

You don't still get to be called a hero.

There's no logic in that.

The DA's decision reached Lake too—or rather, Lake witnessed firsthand why the prosecutor made that call.

His reaction?

Indifference. This was just an appetizer.

The real show was yet to come.

Lake turned to Michaela, "Time for Medusa to step up. Tell Victor to sue Reed Richards for all the damages to the space station."

Michaela blinked, "I've seen the contract between Richards and Victor. It clearly states the space station was an investment. Per the terms, even if it blew up, Victor can't claim compensation from Richards."

Lake smiled, "What if this whole thing was orchestrated by Richards?"

Michaela blinked again, "You're that sure?"

Lake gave a mysterious grin, "Don't forget, I'm a god. Omnipotent, omniscient."

Michaela shrugged, saying nothing more. She slid off the barstool, grabbed her phone from her bag, and was about to dial when a thought struck her. She turned to Lake curiously, "One last question. You said these four aren't your enemies yet. So why deal with them now?"

Lake met her gaze, "Remember the three questions I told you I ask myself before acting?"

Michaela's fox-like eyes flickered.

First: Have these four disrespected Lake?

Obviously not.

Second: Do these four bear malice toward Lake?

They don't even know who he is—how could they?

Third: Do these four deserve to die?

Deserve what now?

Lake watched Michaela's expression answer for her, hands in his pockets as he said coolly, "Right now, they haven't disrespected me—but they will. Do they bear malice? No doubt, once the possession's complete, they will. Do they deserve to die? Well, what do you think now?"

Michaela froze, speechless.

Lake's expression remained neutral.

Acting now wasn't strictly necessary. But thinking ahead, it became very necessary.

If...

If Lake let these four follow their original path, they'd undoubtedly become big brothers the Avengers looked up to—cemented as superheroes with unshakable status.

And then...

If their possession succeeded and they labeled Lake a villain, who'd dare disagree? Who'd dare oppose them?

Lake didn't mind playing the villain, but he'd always despised these beings—neither fully mortal nor divine.

Mortals should play by mortal rules.

Gods? Do whatever makes them happy. If a god came after Lake like this, he wouldn't care—same level, fair game.

But superheroes, stuck between the two?

Oh, please.

They didn't want to follow mortal rules, yet mimicked gods' whims. Who gave them the right? The guts?

That's why, throughout history, no god ever liked superheroes.

So.

To avoid that hassle, Lake had no qualms about turning the Fantastic Four into the Fantastic Four Fiends from the start—speeding up their possession, then finishing off these losers who'd crossed universes to settle scores.

Michaela snapped out of it, thought for a long moment, said nothing, and grabbed her phone to step out onto the balcony.

Victor Industries.

In his restaurant-styled office, Victor heard the phone ring and picked it up. Unknown number?

He answered.

Michaela's voice came through, "Good morning, Mr. Von Doom."

Victor paused, recognizing the voice, then stood from his chair and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, "Ms. Medusa."

Michaela stood on her balcony, gazing toward Victor Industries' building, "Mr. Von Doom, what's your take on the space station damage?"

Victor looked down at the ant-like pedestrians below, thinking about the changes in his body lately, "What does Zeus suggest?"

Michaela's laugh was cryptic, "Mr. Von Doom, tell your legal team to sue Reed Richards."

Victor frowned, "Ms. Medusa, I don't understand."

Michaela glanced at Lake, mixing vodka with bourbon, then said into the phone, "Mr. Von Doom, Zeus wants you to consider this: what if it was all Richards' plan? A man like him, making a basic miscalculation? Zeus asked me to ask you—where's your girlfriend been these past few days?"

Victor's expression flickered.

Michaela continued coolly, "Five minutes from now, Mr. Von Doom, you'll get an email. A weird, cryptic one. Victor Industries needs an explanation—and owes the world one. The space station wasn't the problem."

With that.

Michaela hung up and headed back inside.

For some reason.

She was starting to enjoy playing the puppet master behind the puppet master.

This feeling...