As the words landed, the crowd erupted in instinctive gasps.
They'd assumed the Justice League would be a subsidiary of the Nuke Gang or, at most, Heisenberg's elite squad.
But now, even Heisenberg himself had joined the League!
In that moment, countless minds raced with the desire to join the Justice League.
Listening to the murmurs, Heisenberg clapped twice, silencing the room. After a two-second pause, he continued:
"I named this organization the Justice League to deliver the most scathing mockery to the U.S. authorities!
While those politicians, police, and soldiers—who leech off our tax dollars—fail to uphold justice, it falls to us, the scum, to seize it!"
Heisenberg abruptly raised his right hand.
"Tell me, brothers, what do they call us?!"
"Scum!"
"Trash!"
"Losers!"
"Thugs!"
"Maniacs!"
"Spies!"
"Traitors!"
"Failures!"
"Gangsters!"
"Hydra!"
"Agents!"
"Drug dealers!!!"
…?
The theater fell silent. All eyes turned to the young man who'd shouted "drug dealers."
Everyone in New York knew Heisenberg despised drugs. Yet this guy dared provoke him?!
The young man, in his early twenties, froze under the scrutiny. When Heisenberg's puzzled gaze fell on him, he bolted upright.
"Boss, that was before! I've been clean for over two months, I swear!!!"
…
Heisenberg chuckled and nodded.
"Sit down, brother. Matt, check up on him when you can. Make sure he's telling the truth."
Nightshade nodded, and the young man finally sat, relieved. He'd been clean for over two months—he had nothing to fear.
As long as the boss didn't kill him on the spot!
Honestly, most in the room shared the young man's fear of Heisenberg.
Why?
Imagine standing before a Superman who'd slaughtered countless, wiped out New York's entire underworld in one sweep…
You'd fear him too.
After the brief interlude, Heisenberg returned to his sofa, addressing the crowd.
"In our past lives—even the 'drug dealer'—we were never seen as just!"
Nightshade: Are you sure?
Cough…
"They place themselves on a pedestal, forcing their understanding of justice onto us.
To them, our actions are inherently evil. But I say this, brothers:
The path to justice isn't limited to righteousness alone.
In fact, clinging to righteousness is the most foolish way to achieve it.
If I imposed strict rules on the world to force justice…
We'd commit countless atrocities in the process.
But the end result would be true justice!
To enforce a rule, first, people must know it. Second, they must obey it.
Then, we eliminate those who break it, displaying their bloody corpses to warn others of the consequences!
And finally…
Trust us, brothers. We will become justice itself!"
Many, hearing Heisenberg's ambitions for the first time, stared in shock.
In America's distorted society, the nation clings to the alluring words freedom and hope.
We know it's not truly free, and hope is scarce.
Yet even homeless "freedom fighters" praise America's liberty.
Even small business owners, stripped of hope by corporations, still extol America's promise.
But in today's America, few dare openly advocate dictatorship like Heisenberg—in a semi-public forum, no less!
Sensing the shift, Heisenberg smirked and clapped.
"What are you afraid of, brothers? Your boss wields power to challenge anything. Believe in us.
Remember, no one can stop me. No one. I'll crush every obstacle in my path.
And I sincerely hope you're not among them!"
The once-noisy theater fell silent. The crowd finally recalled why they'd joined Heisenberg.
Was it for freedom or America's interests?
Screw America's interests!
They followed him to survive, or because he was powerful—and they wanted to cling to the strongest leg!
So, what was America to them?
Heisenberg clapped once more.
"That's all. Matt, distribute the laws you've drafted. Form an oversight committee.
Report issues to Bullseye or Rumlow. When I'm away, they're our best killers.
Also, raise salaries and benefits. More work deserves more pay, right?
Dismissed. Don't disturb my rest. Peace!"
With that, Heisenberg left, leaving his followers to their thoughts.
…
The lively discussions continued until evening before fading. As the theater quieted, Heisenberg lay in bed, smiling in satisfaction.
He'd been right.
To impose his rule in America, he'd start with the reckless gangsters—the most receptive to his ideas.
Next, Hydra. Rumlow and his men embraced Heisenberg's philosophy without hesitation.
After all, Hydra already rejected American ideals, prioritizing collective over individual interests.
Beyond them, Heisenberg had to manage New York's citizens.
They'd resist change at first.
When they felt the gang's control, when they saw Heisenberg's laws applied equally—rich or poor…
When the wealthy couldn't buy justice, and the poor always got it…
New York would erupt.
Heisenberg had a plan.
What plan?
When a city's chaotic, introduce a powerful external threat.
And what enemy suits New York, America, or Earth better than aliens?
Heisenberg calculated the Avengers' plot timeline.
He'd entered the Marvel Universe three months before the events.
Now, over two and a half months had passed.
With the butterfly effect, Loki's arrival might deviate from the original schedule—sooner or later.
Either way, Loki was coming.
Meaning Heisenberg's key to reshaping Marvel's America was almost here!
…
8:00 PM, Queens. An apartment.
Peter Parker watched the news with Uncle Ben.
Ben, a kind man, often used the news to educate Peter.
To him, news was the most authentic, official source of events and commentary.
But tonight's New York Evening News…
Ben found it increasingly odd.
The weather forecast was normal—light rain tomorrow; Peter needed an umbrella.
The news opened as usual, with the stunning Lawrence delivering her daily intro.
"Welcome to New York Evening News!"
But after that… everything changed.
"Before tonight's stories, I have exciting news.
Reliable sources confirm our Superman is moving from Brooklyn to Manhattan's Columbus Circle Theater.
So, no more ballet there.
But that's minor. What matters is Superman's fully embraced our city, settling in Midtown—between the Empire State Building and Central Park!
Now, to Brian for the live report."
As the screen switched, Peter groaned on the sofa.
"Ugh! Superman's moving to Manhattan! I'll need to save for days to visit him. Manhattan tickets cost two dollars more!"
Hearing his nephew, Ben smiled.
"Still planning to sell the watch Superman gave you? If you do, you'll have enough!"
"Uncle Ben, don't tease me! I only wanted a washing machine for Aunt May. She hand-washes, and it's tiring.
But… I couldn't part with the watch Superman gave me!"
"Haha!" Ben chuckled, ruffling Peter's hair.
"You did right, kid. Never trade a gift for money. Money's replaceable, but that watch is unique.
Your aunt will get her machine soon. No need to worry."
"Okay, okay. Let's watch. Superman's about to appear!"
Peter cut off his uncle. Onscreen, Heisenberg stepped from a stretched limo.
In that moment, even the cameraman couldn't contain his awe.
"Your Excellency Heisenberg! Can I interview you? Just a minute—thirty seconds!"
"Please, don't rush off! Look at the camera!!!"
"Ah! Don't block me! We need this interview, damn it!"
"Superman!!!"
The cheers from Central Park thrilled Peter.
But his excitement turned to confusion.
"Uncle Ben, why do they call Superman 'His Excellency Heisenberg'?"
"Because they're not his friends!"
"Ah, but Superman gave me a watch—a gift. Does that make me his friend?"
"Of course, kid. Next time you see him, call him 'Mister,' not 'Excellency.'"
Ben said seriously.