Standing by the window, Chu Cheng looked at Batman across the street, his cape fluttering in the night wind, and couldn't help but feel a moment of surreal disbelief.
There was no more room for doubt—somehow, the heroes he played in this "game" were manifesting in reality. Those legendary superheroes had become his agents, his proxies, doing things he couldn't do himself.
For now, he could only control Batman, but he suspected that more heroes would be unlocked in the future—Spider-Man, Iron Man, maybe even Green Lantern, Doctor Strange, Superman... Wall-level characters, every one of them.
But suddenly, another thought struck him.
If it wasn't absolutely necessary, he should keep the heroes he controls as far away from himself as possible.
Both Marvel and DC had similar examples in their comics. Spider-Man always happened to swing near his school, leading people to guess he was a student or teacher there. Superman's flight patterns were once analyzed by a nosy tech mogul, who spent millions mapping his movements—only to realize Superman kept circling the Daily Planet.
Having learned from those cartoon "predecessors," Chu Cheng quickly realized: if too many superheroes gathered around this same location, someone might connect the dots.
If he wanted to stay safe and hidden, he'd need to remain behind the scenes. As long as no one knew he was the one pulling the strings, all the superheroes of Marvel and DC could become his pawns—his elite enforcers.
Maybe one day, he'd become the mastermind behind a global shadow force.
Chuckling at the thought, he sat back down in front of the computer, manipulating Batman to turn and disappear into the night. His thoughts wandered.
He had marveled yesterday at the game's freedom, but now it felt too free. There were no instructions, no quests, not even a tutorial. Even yesterday's first "mission" wasn't really a mission—it had just been a bat symbol placed on the roof of the Klein Group building. A suggestion, not an order.
Thinking about it now, he could've easily ignored it and gone sightseeing instead.
This game was more like a "Batman Simulator." No storyline, no missions—the narrative seemed entirely up to him.
Just as he was pondering what to do next, a small exclamation mark suddenly appeared on the game interface, like a GPS ping updating the destination. It wasn't far from Batman's current location.
A new mission?
Chu Cheng raised an eyebrow and directed Batman toward the signal.
---
Meanwhile, in the real world...
Xiao Fang was having the worst day of her life.
Her alarm didn't go off. She had to speed to the office on her electric scooter, sparks flying behind her, and still arrived five minutes late. The elevator doors opened... right into her boss's furious face.
To make it worse, she had rushed out in such a panic that she forgot the report she'd worked on all night. Her manager berated her in front of the whole team.
She had hoped to blow off steam with her two girlfriends over dinner, but fate clearly had it in for her. On the way there, she ran into a group of sleazy street punks. When she ignored their catcalls and tried to walk away, one of them grabbed her.
"Don't be so cold, sweetheart."
"Let go," she said, shaking off his hand—only to take a punch to the head.
Her vision spun. Her ears rang.
"Trying to act tough?" the thug growled.
Some pedestrians stopped to watch, stunned by the thugs' brazenness, but none dared intervene. One bystander tried to pull out his phone—only for a blond punk to smash it to pieces on the concrete.
"You like to be nosy?" the blond boy sneered, slapping the man to the ground.
Xiao Fang collapsed, her face burning, her mind reeling. She flailed helplessly, trying to stand, only to be shoved down again. Surrounded by the gang, all she could do was curl into a ball and hope it was a nightmare—that she'd wake up in bed and today hadn't happened.
The lead thug raised his fist for another blow—
Snap.
The lights went out.
The entire street plunged into darkness—lampposts, shop signs, even building windows—all blacked out at once, as if someone had cut the power to the world.
The thug froze, fist raised.
"What the hell—"
A small, spherical object landed at their feet and puffed softly. Smoke spread rapidly, swallowing the scene in darkness and mist.
Then—something fell from the sky.
A black figure, its wings like those of a demon, crashed down through the haze.
The thug didn't see what hit him. One moment he was standing; the next, a shadow flashed past, and his nose exploded in pain and blood.
"Bro!" someone shouted.
Another thug charged in—only for his arm to be twisted back with a sickening crunch. Screams echoed one after another in the darkness, weaving into a rising crescendo of panic.
The first man—his face soaked in blood—lifted his head and saw it: a monstrous silhouette moving through the smoke. Huge black wings. Fangs. Claws. Something out of a nightmare.
Fear clutched his chest.
He had fought before, been beaten and bloodied, even faced knives—but nothing had ever made him feel like this.
He stood frozen, watching in horror as the dark figure lunged toward him. Then—bang. A fist smashed into his jaw, teeth flying. Another blow shattered ribs. A third knocked the breath clean from his lungs.
Finally, a forward kick launched him out of the smoke like a ragdoll. He flew across the street, crashing onto the opposite sidewalk as pedestrians screamed.
He felt like a shattered porcelain doll. Blood filled his throat. His limbs wouldn't move.
And then—the lights came back on.
Xiao Fang gasped for breath. She sat up slowly, eyes darting around. The thugs lay scattered across the street like broken puppets. Blood stained the pavement. None of them moved.
The onlookers had fled. This side of the street was now completely empty.
She blinked, disoriented.
What just happened?