Why is his holy light red?

Once their identities are exposed, superpowered individuals usually only have two options: either walk the line between the law and become an "unregistered superpowered individual" who could be arrested at any time; or follow the rules, enter the association's assessment room, fully demonstrate their abilities, and then receive a monthly welfare subsidy that may not even be enough to make ends meet.

However, registration does not mean that you can be given the title of "superhero" after registration.

To obtain the hero qualification certificate that comes with privileges and generous benefits, one must endure rigorous background checks and lengthy professional training.

According to the data, there are as many as seven million people with superpowers registered in the global database, but the total number of officially recognized superheroes is less than one hundred thousand.

These meager numbers of 100,000 are also extremely unevenly distributed. In major cities of developed economies, not only are top-tier combatants on standby 24/7 in core business districts, but even some residential areas are equipped with dedicated neighborhood heroes. In contrast, in sparsely populated and impoverished areas lacking capital investment, the entire country might not be able to muster a single licensed superhero, and in times of danger, they would have to queue up to apply for external assistance.

It's not that the association is inactive. After all, superpowered individuals are still human beings, still modern people who need to queue at supermarkets and socialize, and the vast majority of them would prefer to live in the city where their families live.

Who wouldn't want to live in a safer and more convenient big city?

In addition, very few people truly possess the ability to move quickly, and the mobility of most heroes is inherently limited, so their effective radius for timely response is not large.

The combination of various real-world factors has led to a situation where the Hero Association, despite its seemingly all-powerful nature, is actually quite chaotic in its internal management, with resource allocation riddled with imbalances and loopholes.

Although Asia Pomegranate City is not among the top international metropolises, it is definitely a highly capital-intensive area, home to three giant multinational corporations with market capitalizations of hundreds of billions, such as "Eternal Life Technology".

The enormous corporate tax revenue has created an extremely abundant financial chain for the local Hero Association. The branch building was naturally located in the most expensive and prosperous Upper Town, with an exterior that exudes both opulence and luxury.

Mercury was standing at the edge of the lobby area of ​​the association building.

Directly ahead stands the massive main gate, nearly ten meters high. Its cool gray load-bearing frame, paired with large areas of explosion-proof one-way glass, reflects a modern, technological luster under the sunlight.

However, the vast majority of those who walk across the wide steps and sensor doors are not superheroes who save the world.

They are mostly ordinary administrative staff holding paper cups of coffee and access cards around their necks, as well as low-level superhumans wearing faded casual clothes and holding queue numbers to handle basic business at the window.

It's easy to tell if someone is a superhero. You don't need to look at their face or their appearance; just see if they're wearing their signature badge.

Mercury followed the crowd toward the security checkpoint, feeling that the check was a complete waste of time.

What is the significance of this metal sensor door to superpowered individuals?

It's obvious at a glance that he took kickbacks.

After passing through the security checkpoint, Mercury stepped into the brightly lit lobby of the association. He went straight to the marble table and showed the receptionist his electronic identification code on his phone.

After the other person scanned the QR code, their fingers visibly paused while typing. She looked up at him, a hint of undisguised surprise flashing across her face. This reaction was expected by Mercury; after all, his case had been making headlines recently, and his current recognition was comparable to that of some second-tier celebrities.

But what truly shocked the receptionist was the visitor access information that popped up on the screen: Mercury had reserved access to the VIP meeting room on the top floor. In the building's security hierarchy, that area was normally only open to truly important figures from associations like the "Holy Angels."

After double-checking the reservation code in the back office to confirm that there were no errors in the system, the receptionist wearing a "Rosalia" metal name tag immediately came out from behind the counter.

"Please come with me, sir." Her tone instantly switched to its most enthusiastic level.

Rosalia led the way. Her high heels tapped rhythmically on the polished tiles, and the swaying of her hips was deliberately amplified with each step. Her swaying posture was less like leading the way and more like walking the runway at Fashion Week.

Mercury graciously enjoyed the beautiful scenery.

While it's true that these days you have to seize every opportunity to climb the social ladder, fawning over a minor like him seems a bit over the top.

The elevator stopped at the top floor, and the moment the doors opened, Rosalia could no longer lead the way; this was an area she was not allowed to enter.

She could only give Mercury a reluctant look and leave him with the words, "If you need anything, please feel free to contact me. It would be a pleasure to serve you."

Mercury simply nodded politely, then stepped out of the elevator, which was filled with an ambiguous atmosphere.

They walked along the corridor and soon arrived at the VIP conference room at the end, where Robert was already waiting.

But when Mercury stepped into the room, his gaze did not linger on the superhero in front of him, but was instantly drawn to the black mecha beside Robert.

He forgot all formalities, quickly walked around the marble table, went straight to the mecha, and reached out to touch the cold armor.

The texture of the armor against my palm is a rough and hard matte coating. Although this mech has a streamlined design to reduce wind resistance, it is by no means a thin and tight-fitting protective suit.

It is over two meters tall, with extremely thick armor modules in the chest and shoulders. The hydraulic joints and metal seams fit together tightly, and the thickness of the armor alone demonstrates its powerful defensive capabilities.

No boy can resist the allure of such pure, heavy industry.

"This is even cooler than watching it on TV!" Mercury exclaimed sincerely.

Seeing Mercury's reaction, Robert laughed, making no attempt to hide his smugness: "Of course it's cool, this is the latest model that I just upgraded."

Robert doesn't care whether people praise his superior intelligence, envy his wealth, or sing his praises about how many civilians he has rescued. But if someone praises his mech, he immediately thinks that person "knows what's good for them."

His registration as a superhero with the association was, in the end, just a side effect. With this identity as a shield, he wouldn't have to deal with daily raids by federal agents and could legally obtain the most advanced military-grade materials; as for being an inventor, it was nothing more than a money-making assembly line, and every penny he made from selling patents would eventually become research and development funding on the blueprints.

Fame and fortune are all secondary; the steel creation before him is the work he is most proud of in his life.

Although Mercury was extremely envious, he knew very well that this level of machine was only something he could temporarily use; expecting Robert to casually give him one was simply unrealistic. Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand and forced his attention back to the main topic.

"Mr. Robert, is the cooperation we discussed before still valid?"

Robert smiled. "You took a million from me, what do you say?"

For a capitalist of Robert's stature, a million dollars was merely pocket change. Mercury could hear the sarcasm in the other man's tone, but he didn't laugh along. Instead, he looked at him very seriously: "Mr. Robert, the reason I invited you here today is to return the money to you."

"Give it back to me?" Robert was slightly surprised.

"Actually, I know very well," Mercury said calmly, "that you provided this money purely out of respect for the Holy Angel, hoping to smoothly guide me into becoming a hero. Now that you've achieved your goal, I'm here at the association today to officially register my superhero status."

Robert frowned slightly.

In his memory, Mercury's dream was to be the "richest man in the world," not to wear a cloak and walk the streets as a superhero. At that moment, the boy's eyes were shining.

Can a lawsuit completely change a person's dream?

Robert carefully observed Mercury's expression, then said directly, "Mercury, although we're not exactly close, I can tell you're not the kind of person who can be easily swayed. Why don't we skip these tests and pretenses and just get straight to the point? That would be more efficient for communication."

Mercury never expected this explanation to fool Robert, who possessed "super intelligence." As Robert said, their relationship was too shallow for him to speak directly; he had to wait for Robert to drop the formalities before he could continue.

"Mr. Robert, I will keep my promise and register as an official superhero. There is no falsehood in that statement."

Superheroes have many limitations, but also many advantages.

First, for Mercury to make big money, the identity of a superhero is essential, as it offers numerous tax benefits.

Secondly, Mercury also wants to take revenge on the Immortal Technology and eliminate these evil capitalists who treat people as experimental subjects. Only a superhero could investigate the Immortal Technology; otherwise, Mercury is just an ordinary minor.

Finally, Mercury had to admit that after experiencing this accident, he felt a greater sense of identification with his father.

Even if superheroes can't change the system, the world does need heroes.

"However, my goal remains unchanged; becoming the world's richest person is still my life's goal. This experience has reaffirmed my belief that whether you want to do good or bad, and achieve anything, you must have money and power."

Robert chuckled. "So, you're planning to earn a hundred million in the first year?"

Mercury shook his head: "No, I have a new goal."

Robert commented in a flat tone: "Simply increasing the numbers on paper doesn't constitute a new goal."

This time it was Mercury's turn to laugh. He stared into Robert's eyes and revealed his true thoughts: "My new target is immortality technology. Mr. Robert, how much do you think it would cost to acquire immortality technology?"

Robert frowned and said, "That's too naive, kid. There's no way you can buy a company worth hundreds of billions. Yong Sheng Technology has a huge market share in food and pharmaceuticals. Although there's been some negative news lately, it won't have much of an impact. If you try to buy their shares at a premium of dozens of times, the big players in the financial market will just swallow your principal up, leaving you with nothing."

Capital operations are never a simple matter of addition and subtraction. Even if you have the power to print money, you must still follow the rules of the financial ecosystem, or you could go bankrupt at any time.

In Robert's view, Mercury was like a spoiled brat shouting for the world, without having done any research on feasibility.

However, Mercury offered a possibility.

"Mr. Robert, if it can be proven that Eternal Life Technology is conducting illegal human experiments, developing prohibited drugs, and engaging in illegal transactions, do you think Eternal Life Technology will go bankrupt?"

Robert asked, "It will definitely have a significant impact; at the very least, the stock price will plummet, providing ample room for manipulation. But both Holy Light Angels and I are investigating this matter, and we haven't found any substantial evidence yet. Do you have any special channels?"

Mercury took a rolled-up notebook from his backpack and handed it to Robert: "The federal government obtained an upgraded version of the drug from Immortal Technology and used it on the prisoners of Black Olive, giving them beast-like superpowers, and then they made Black Gloves for the Federation. Although this notebook is not conclusive evidence for conviction, it can be used to negotiate with the federal government. I believe that those politicians will definitely sell out the secrets of Immortal Technology for their own future."