As The Only Mutant in Marvel

9 AM.

Lance was home alone, preparing his gear for the night ahead.

Hidden inside his penthouse was a secure armory—a secret room protected by passwords and iris-scanning locks.

This was where Lance kept his arsenal.

Rifles, shotguns, and pistols—twenty or thirty guns were neatly arranged on display.

Among them was the Barrett M82A1, an anti-material sniper rifle.

12.7mm caliber. 1447.8mm length. 10-round capacity.

It fired .50 BMG rounds—a weapon designed to tear through armor.

Lance had only used it three times.

And each time?

One shot. One kill.

But tonight, he didn't need the Barrett.

Lance turned to the pistol cabinet.

He pressed a button, and the bulletproof glass slid open as the interior display rose.

Grabbing a Glock 26, he checked the weight and feel before setting it aside.

Then—

Bang!

A soft sound came from the door behind him.

Lance turned to look.

It was the Red Devil.

The teleporting husky had finally come home after a wild night out.

"You stupid dog—so you still remember where home is?"

The husky ran in, tongue out and panting.

Lance knelt down and grabbed its front paws.

"Where the hell did you go all night?"

He checked the dog's paws and immediately regretted his decision.

Paint. Threads.

"Shit… you didn't tear up someone's place, did you?"

Lance slapped his forehead.

Maybe giving this dog teleportation powers wasn't the smartest idea.

Huskies were already known for destroying furniture.

Now this one could teleport into other people's homes.

"Listen up, dumbass. Don't use your ability in front of people, got it?"

Lance rubbed the husky's head, trying to drive the point home.

"If you screw up, I'll take your powers back!"

The dog barked and nodded like it understood.

Lance wasn't sure if it actually did.

"Whatever. Go rest."

Lance let it go, and the husky trotted off—probably heading for its kennel.

Even a hyper dog like this had to be exhausted after teleporting around all night.

Meanwhile—

In a nearby furniture store, the staff stood in shock, staring at the wreckage.

Shredded couches. Broken tables. Ruined displays.

"Who? Who the hell did this?!"

Back in its kennel, the Red Devil shivered and looked around.

Something told it someone was cursing its name.

Afternoon.

Lance had lunch with a girl.

They shopped, bought a few things, and then spent time at her place.

It wasn't until 8 PM that Lance finally drove back to Paradise Mansion.

His Ride?

A black-and-white Lamborghini Aventador.

Every resident of Paradise Mansion had their own private garage.

Lance had bought two extra spots, enough for four cars.

His collection?

• Lamborghini Aventador

• Koenigsegg Jesko

• Ferrari LaFerrari

• McLaren P1

And at his Liberty City villa?

Another seven or eight luxury cars were parked there, collecting dust.

As a super-rich heir, Lance spent his money on luxury and thrills.

High-end cars. Designer watches. Parties.

Money was made to be spent, and Lance made sure to enjoy every dollar.

It was no surprise women loved him—he had charm and money.

In that sense, Lance wasn't far off from Tony Stark.

But there was a difference.

Tony Stark wasn't just rich—he was a genius inventor and CEO of Stark Industries.

His net worth? Close to $1 trillion.

Lance?

Even after inheriting his parents' fortune, his total worth was barely a few billion.

But that was about to change.

Soon, Lance's net worth would explode.

He wasn't aiming for Tony Stark's level, but he'd be in the top 200 richest people in the world.

That was more than enough.

9 PM.

Lance changed into his gear, packed his equipment, and got ready.

Then his phone rang.

A party invite.

His rich friends wanted him to come check out a new bar that had just opened.

Lance figured he had time.

So he packed his gear, left it ready in the living room, and headed out.

The Car?

This time, he took his red LaFerrari.

The parking lot was packed with luxury cars.

Million-dollar rides were everywhere.

But Lance's LaFerrari still turned heads as he pulled in.

His friends were already waiting at the entrance.

"Lance! Over here!"

They greeted him with excitement as he handed his keys to the valet and joined them inside.

An Hour Later—

Lance excused himself to use the bathroom.

Once inside the stall—

Flash.

Lance teleported straight back to his penthouse.

He grabbed the gear he'd prepared earlier, then disappeared again.

Tonight's mission was about to begin.

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