10:00 a.m.
"Hello, we're from the Daily Bugle. We need to interview your boss. Let us in!"
"Damn it, we're from the Daily Planet! Superman's hometown paper! Let me in!"
"Fk, this is America! Freedom every day! You can't stop us from interviewing!"
"Don't waste time with them! These guys are just gang enforcers!"
"Charge in! They won't actually shoot!"
"Let us in, Billy! I'm your friend! I know the manager of the Academy Nightclub!"
Countless reporters, desperate to interview Heisenberg, the suddenly emerged Superman, were swarming the nightclub entrance. They nearly blocked the entire entrance!
Fortunately, the building had once belonged to Wilson Fisk. After Bullseye spent a few bullets, the ownership was transferred to Heisenberg.
So, the reporters were chased from the nightclub all the way to the building's entrance.
Heisenberg lay on the rooftop, soaking up the sun, trying to enjoy the tranquility.
After all, he hadn't even bothered to activate his super hearing.
He wasn't Superman, constantly monitoring who was injured, who was in disaster, or who was being robbed.
He had no desire to save the world.
So, apart from a few specially marked voices, he only used his normal human hearing.
Only then could he enjoy the silence.
But today…
Forget normal hearing.
Even a deaf person could hear the chaos downstairs!
"What the hell?!"
Heisenberg, lying on the lounge chair, was so annoyed he lost interest in even drinking.
He sat up, slipped into his flip-flops, and peered over the edge of the rooftop.
The moment he appeared, the reporters below erupted into a frenzy of cheers.
"Look here! Over here!"
"He's here! Let us in!"
"We're journalists! We have the right to interview Mr. Heisenberg!"
"Heisenberg, are you Superman?"
"Your power is stronger than Iron Man's armor! You can fly with your body! You're Superman, right?!"
"Are you dating Captain America, like in the comics?"
Huh?
Where did this guy come from? What kind of wild comics is he reading?
Even in the midst of the chaos, the reporters were momentarily stunned by the question.
But only for a moment.
"Why didn't you rescue the Indian plane crash last night? Are you only America's Superman?"
"You didn't help with the earthquake in Japan either. You must've been raised in America, right?"
"Superman, how long have you been Superman?!"
"Heisenberg, say hi to your fans!!!"
Facing the cacophony, Heisenberg's eyebrows nearly merged into one.
"I'm warning you once: disperse!
If you have questions, come to the nightclub tonight. We'll talk over drinks!!!"
Heisenberg shouted from the rooftop, but who would care about his promise now?
"We won't take up much of your time—just five minutes!"
"We understand. Can you answer just one question?"
"Superman, think of your fans! Millions of kids are waiting for your latest news!"
The reporters' voices not only didn't stop but grew louder.
"Fking hell!"
Heisenberg grimaced, then turned and walked toward the pool.
He took a deep breath, and his frost breath instantly froze the pool water solid.
Then, using his biological strength, he lifted the pool-sized ice block with ease.
He casually hurled the massive ice block at the damn reporters below.
But he wasn't ruthless. His eyes flashed red, and his heat vision rapidly fractured the ice mid-air.
Still, the shards falling from hundreds of meters were enough to cause trouble.
As expected, the cheers downstairs instantly turned to screams.
"Ahhh, what's that?!"
"It's hail!"
"Hail my ass—it's ice chunks!"
"Run!!!"
Over a hundred reporters scrambled in panic. Reality isn't a movie—no one's stupid enough to stand still when something's falling from the sky.
But even running couldn't save them.
Heisenberg's pool held at least twenty tons of water. Even shattered, the ice chunks were enough to injure the reporters.
Except for a few muscular ones who forced their way into the building and a few agile ones who dove under nearby cars, nearly every reporter's head began bleeding.
And their suffering had only just begun.
Heisenberg, back on the rooftop, picked up the phone from the drinks table.
"Hey, Bullseye, bring your men. Check out the paparazzi downstairs.
Send the seriously injured to the hospital—I'll cover the medical bills.
As for the uninjured or lightly injured, beat them until they need hospitalization. Got it?"
"Got it, Boss. But what about the female reporters?" Bullseye asked cautiously.
After a moment, Heisenberg frowned.
Female reporters!
Like Lois Lane—the kind who could become a Kryptonian's weakness?
Terrifying!!!
With that thought, Heisenberg took a deep breath.
"Hit them harder, but don't aim for the face. You handle it."
"Yes, Boss!!!"
Bullseye eagerly accepted the mission.
Hanging up, Heisenberg's admiration for his boss was beyond words.
Even his former boss, Fisk, would never dare openly attack reporters!
Of course, Fisk had ordered him to deal with a few journalists.
But only when absolutely necessary and in a fit of rage, and even then, it was done secretly.
As for challenging the so-called champions of American free speech in public?
Fisk didn't have the guts.
But Heisenberg did!
If the boss hates reporters, Bullseye hates them even more.
Not only that—Bullseye had long despised those damn paparazzi!