Starting With Batman

Seeing Charlie remain silent, Melanie couldn't help laughing: "Don't worry. We have advanced memory-erasing technology that can accurately remove specific memories based on keywords. Usually, we won't accidentally delete other important information."

Charlie noticed the word "usually" and instinctively felt something was off.

"What about unusual situations?"

"Uh... Nothing is perfect, no matter how advanced the technology is. There's always a chance that something could go wrong," Melanie recalled. "If I remember correctly, there was once a pair of boys who had their memories erased, forgot they were boys, and ended up with gender identity issues..."

Charlie: "..."

"It's not a major issue," Melanie reassured him. "The chances of that happening are very small. Most operations are successful.

And I think there's nothing wrong with being a girl; boys who crossdress these days can be cuter than girls..."

"..." Charlie remained silent, his expression devoid of any changes.

Fortunately, he had already decided to join the group. The risk of this mishap had to be left to someone else.

Charlie then sized up the people who got out of the car, "are you all Superpowered individuals?"

"In a way, yes." Melanie nodded.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Getting superpowers is not that easy," Melanie continued, "relatively, the average infection coefficient of idiosyncratic individuals is far lower than that of ordinary infected people. Individuals with an infection coefficient of more than 90% are rare.

My coefficient is probably around 52%, Tara's is 30%, and Junpei's is..."

She gave a slightly embarrassed look at the driver.

"27%," the driver answered indifrently.

"Ah yes, 27%, I remember."

This made Charlie realize he was not the only one who thought the driver seemed a bit transparent.

"The highest among us is Detective Ivan; he's at 87%."

When Melanie introduced him, Charlie peeked at the bald man. Ivan was still casually smoking a cigarette, and while doing so, he appeared to be humming a strange tune.

Charlie had never heard such a melody before, but it sounded like an old song.

Turning his gaze back to Melanie, Charlie sarcastically asked, "You seem to like answering questions with answers that don't answer the question?

Ignoring his remark, Melanie continued, "This coefficient reflects the depth of our influence. The deeper it is, the more noticeable our special abilities are. So, generally, the higher the coefficient, the stronger the power.

Of course, this only refers to raw potential. Combat ability is more comprehensive. Fighting skills, weapon use, and awareness all determine the outcome.

So, with good training, even someone with a low infection coefficient can defeat someone with a higher coefficient."

"I see"

It's like a first-grader challenging a second-grader. There's a gap because second graders know multiplication, while first graders can only do addition. But the protagonist, a top first-grade student, has exceptional mental math skills and can compete with the second graders.

Plus, the protagonist has a secret weapon—a calculator that he use only in extreme situations.

Charlie nodded, roughly understanding, "You still haven't answered my question."

The car stopped quickly in front of an inconspicuous two-story building, covered by lush jungle. Charlie got out and walked toward the gate with the others.

"You seem a little disappointed?" Melanie looked at Charlie with interest. "Did you expect our building to be grander?"

"No, I expected you to answer my question."

Malaine threw Charlie an annoyed glance and continued walking.

Looking around, Charlie mused, From what Malanie said earlier, their organization sounded like the ultimate defense of peace, but this two-story building looked less impressive than a community health center.

As they walked into the building, they passed by a duty room, the guard on duty sat on a rolling chair, reading the newspaper. He lazily glanced up when they entered, then quickly resumed reading.

Through the long corridor, they reached an elevator. Charlie noticed only two buttons, 1 and 2.

But Melanie pressed a hidden mechanism, and the seemingly old metal plate separated, revealing a dial with a code. She entered a password quickly, too quick for Charlie to see clearly, the elevator started moving without indicating the number of floors.

Charlie felt the elevator going down, heading underground.

In movies, powerful organizations often hide their real headquarters underground, like the tailor shop in "Kingsman."

Just as he thought he understood, he felt the elevator stop.

Then it started moving forward.

Charlie was confused.

What the Fck? Can this sht move forward as well?

When the door opened along sliding rails, Charlie saw a long corridor with pale metal walls and LED-like lights.

It looked like a sci-fi base buried deep underground.

The automatic door slid open to reveal a more futuristic room with floating screens and people in uniforms walking around hastily.

The setting finally matched Charlie's expectations.

"Is this your base?" Charlie asked.

Melanie smiled mysteriously. "Not exactly."

"..."

A few minutes later, they arrived at an exit near a lake.

Ripples suddenly appeared on the lake.

The lake's surface rose like a mountain peak, and tons of water crashed back as if a giant black whale had broken through.

It was a giant beast of steel, shaped like an aircraft carrier.

But unlike regular aircraft carriers, this one could fly.

The fan blades of the six-turbine engines turned into afterimages, tons of water evaporated into steam. The invisible propulsion flame lifted the massive structure like an invisible palm lifting a steel cloud.

Standing near this behemoth, Charlie watched tons of water fall against the ground, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"How is it?" Melanie looked a little proud. "This is our mobile fortress, one of only five flying aircraft carriers worldwide."

Charlie: "..."

Why does this look like the Helicarrier from S.H.I.E.L.D.

To be honest, this kind of flying fortress reminded Charlie of something bad. In the movies, Maria Hill, the deputy director of S.H.I.E.L.D., always complained that these things seem to crash often.

According to various movies, T.V. shows, and stories, powerful flying objects often crash, almost like an inevitable curse.

Maybe because he's seen too many similar plots, Charlie doesn't like this flashy flying thing. To him, it looked like a flying grave that could crash any day...

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