Starting from scratch, Batman crushed my dream of getting rich

Chapter 580 Abandoned Son
"A car crashed right into your house?"

Franky and Kimiko immediately showed sympathy at the mention of breast milk. They had no doubt about the truth of the matter—this was something that a superhero from Vought International would do, as Vought's actions over the years had proven countless times.

No one on the vehicle harbored even the slightest illusion about the ethics of the Vought Corporation.

"Are you okay?"

“I’m fine, but that house in Harlem is full of my family, my grandparents, uncles and aunts, cousins. We all live in one house. Although we are very poor, we take care of each other and encourage each other. We always believe that things will get better sooner or later.”

As he spoke, he seemed slightly lost in thought, probably because the past was being brought up again, and the memories of those days were vivid in his mind, making him think of his family.

"The car got stuck in the wall and was only 15 centimeters away from hitting me, but my grandfather... I'm the one who caused his death. If I hadn't woken him up, he wouldn't have died that night."

As a woman, Kimiko is more emotionally sensitive. With tears in her eyes, she typed on her phone to comfort her: "Breastfeeding, it's not your fault."

"This is my fault!"

He clenched his teeth tightly, his index finger tapping the steering wheel three times a day, rhythmically and uncontrollably, tears glistening in his eyes: "From that time on, I developed obsessive-compulsive disorder and psychological problems. I said I had high blood pressure, but I didn't, which is why Old Ma's sugar couldn't cure me."

"But," Franky asked cautiously, "shouldn't this make you hate Soldier Boy even more?"

"I should hate him, of course I should hate him!"

The mother's voice was a little hoarse: "That's what I thought at first, but this morning, when I saw that guy on TV, I thought of the burning car that night, my grandfather who was smashed into a pulp, and the soldier boy's dog-like expression. It was like an instinct, something I couldn't suppress."

"I was scared. I was scared at the worst possible time."

At this moment, the butcher couldn't help but reach out and grip the steering wheel—his breast-fed hand was trembling, and his fear was reflected in every cell of his body—this seemed to have nothing to do with rationality, but was just a psychological problem left over from a major accident he suffered as a child, which he still hadn't been able to resolve.

"Old Ma wasn't wrong," Franky suddenly realized: "We really do all have PTSD."

At this moment, sweat beaded on his forehead, and he turned his face slightly to hide his tears. He especially didn't want to cry when the soldier boy was mentioned, but he couldn't suppress his body's instinctive reaction.

"So that's why you're afraid to confront the soldier boy. Are you afraid that seeing him will awaken the demons you had as a child?"

The butcher sighed: "I was thinking before, you must be the one who hates that guy the most among us."

"I am, but I'm also the one most afraid of that guy."

Breast milk wiped away the tears on her face, took a few deep breaths, and finally calmed her body's panic reaction: "But I had already thought it through after I got in the car. If we were to deal with that guy, I would have to be there. He killed my grandfather. I want him to know that Walter might have been able to protect him back then, but he absolutely cannot now."

Both the Butcher and Franky patted him heavily on the shoulder, their eyes filled with affirmation and encouragement.

"Meow (We've arrived, meow!)!"

Suddenly, the cat darted to the front of the driver's seat and pressed the brake with its paw, catching everyone off guard and causing a commotion.

"Marvin!" Franky couldn't hold back any longer: "We were just getting into the spirit of teamwork, can you please not brake so suddenly!"

“I didn’t do it, it did it.” The mother immediately grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck and lifted it up: “I didn’t step on the brakes.”

"Have we arrived at our destination?" Kenji urged. "If we have, let's begin the tracking."

"Meow!"

The group got off the car. This was the last place where Ma Zhaodi had mentioned where the cell phone signal disappeared during the Mind Storm.

The silly cat carefully searched the surrounding area, sniffing and observing. Entering the jungle was as natural as coming home. In less than three minutes, it locked onto a series of human footprints in the jungle. This place was rarely visited by people, and other footprints in the surrounding area did not go deep into the jungle. This series of footprints was highly suspicious.

"Meow (follow meow)." The silly cat turned around and called out. The group didn't have time to complain and cheered each other up as they headed into the jungle—but the hats weren't handed to any of them; they were left on the silly cat.

The mental storm could strike anyone, but the silly cat is perfectly safe at this time—what bad intentions could a little kitten possibly have?

"Wait a minute, if anyone gets controlled, just put the hat on their head, understand?" Franky whispered to the Dodo Cat, "This is important, our lives depend on you."

"Meow (a winning meow)!"

"Did it nod?" Kenji asked suspiciously. "Can it understand human speech?"

"Understanding human speech is nothing; it's far more absurd than you think." Breast milk shook its head: "Nothing around Old Ma is simple. If we bring his car over this time, we won't have to worry about the mental storm at all."

The butcher raised an eyebrow. He hadn't been there last time and didn't know the situation with the dork and the three-wheeled vehicle, but he figured that the mother and the others wouldn't talk nonsense.

"Why shouldn't you be afraid?" he asked casually.

"Because robots do not have a mind capable of thinking."

"It looks like they've already started fighting."

When Ma Zhaodi, dressed in a black robe and wearing a ghost mask, secretly slipped into a low and secluded lakeside cabin in the jungle, Edgar and his companions had already disappeared.

Although it was called a small hut, the interior was actually a hidden world. With his keen senses, Ma Zhaodi could vaguely detect the sounds of fighting coming from below the hut.

“How long have they been inside?” he asked the open space outside.

"I just went in, less than a minute ago." The invisible man then revealed himself: "How did you know I was here?"

"Smell it."

".Can't understand."

"That's right, you don't understand."

Ma Zhaodi waved his hand: "Why aren't you going down? Doesn't Edgar want you to?"

"Edgar told me to guard the door so Blackie wouldn't escape—what are you doing here alone? Where's Superman?"

"Superman is with Homelander, of course."

"Then what's the point of you coming alone?"

“I’m here to record the truth.” Ma Zhaodi waved his phone.

Bang! Bang! Thud!
The sound of fists striking flesh echoed in the basement, powerful and resounding. The soldier boy lifted the limp, black-clad man with one hand and threw him to the ground with the other.

One of Vought's top combat forces, a former battle veteran, now appears so vulnerable.

With his body mangled and his mind scattered, he lay on the ground and saw a familiar person standing a dozen steps away, coldly observing everything.

It was Edgar.

From that moment on, he knew that he had been completely abandoned.

(End of this chapter)