Marvel: Father of Superheroes

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******

A long and exhausting night...

It wasn't until early the next morning, when the babysitter knocked on the door, that Mike finally got some relief.

Damn Raven. Why did she have to send the babysitter home yesterday?

Mike sighed inwardly.

"Mr. Kent."

Norma, the plump, middle-aged babysitter, was holding Clark in her arms. Seeing Mike's exhausted expression, she let out a sympathetic sigh. "Taking care of a child all by yourself is just too hard."

Rubbing his temples, Mike replied, "It's fine. I'm getting used to it."

Norma smiled, holding Clark closer to Mike. In a lowered voice, she said, "Caring for a baby is a woman's job. You really need to have a woman in this house."

Mike immediately felt a sense of alarm.

What's this Norma up to? Don't tell me she's thinking of volunteering herself?

He cast a quick glance at her plump figure and shivered. Hurriedly, he said, "It's fine. I've got it under control."

"That won't do!" Norma said, looking genuinely concerned. "I know a lovely girl. She's pregnant and wants to settle down with someone. I think you'd be perfect. After all, you already have a child."

Wealthy, handsome, and with a farm—if she were twenty years younger, she wouldn't let someone like him slip away.

Mike's face darkened.

What the hell? Do I look like someone desperate to take on a ready-made family?

His expression hardened as he replied firmly, "No, thank you."

Grabbing his jacket, he headed downstairs and added, "I have some things to deal with. Take good care of Clark."

Norma watched him leave, a look of regret on her face.

She still felt her daughter and Mike were a good match. She'd find another opportunity to bring it up. If that didn't work, well, there was always the hospital as an option.

---

Mike drove into New York, navigating the streets and taking in the atmosphere of the 1980s. He let out a sigh.

This era lacked many of the pastimes he was used to.

But this world was far more dangerous than the one he'd come from.

Advanced technology, alien invasions, magical dimensions, mutants, superheroes, and supervillains...

Just thinking about the future events made his head throb.

Still, none of that had much to do with him. Once he wrapped up these current matters, he'd return home and focus on raising his child.

A life without fighting and killing didn't sound too bad.

Imagining his "retirement" and a peaceful, carefree life, Mike couldn't help but smile faintly.

---

*New York, a coffee shop.*

"If you help me kill him, and as long as you don't leak any of the organization's secrets, I promise no one will come after you. That's my word," Sloan said with a smile, his dark complexion emphasizing the sharpness of his gaze.

"I'm far more trustworthy than Kutch," he added.

Mike replied calmly, "Deal."

Sloan was momentarily stunned.

He'd expected to spend much more time convincing Mike. To his surprise, Mike agreed so quickly.

But then Sloan caught Mike's gaze, and a chill ran down his spine.

If you don't keep your promise, I'll kill you...

That message was written plainly in Mike's eyes—bold, direct, and without pretense.

"Heh." Sloan chuckled softly and said, "Here's the plan. On Wednesday, he'll be—"

"Stop!" Mike raised his hand to interrupt. "I don't want to hear your elaborate, intricately connected master plan."

To Mike, the more steps a plan had, the more opportunities there were for things to go wrong. One small error could ruin the entire operation.

Tapping the table lightly, Mike said, "Just give me the time, location, and number of people."

Sloan was momentarily taken aback before laughing. "You're as confident as ever."

Mike stood up and said, "Give me the intel tonight. Here's my number."

With a flick of his fingers, a card with a phone number landed on the table. Mike then left quickly.

Sloan picked up the card, and his mouth twitched slightly.

"Male Infertility Hospital—Dr. Luchi."

Flipping the card over, he saw a handwritten phone number on the back. Relieved, he carefully tucked it into his pocket. Placing a bill under the coffee cup, he turned and walked away.

---

Mike's home—or rather, his safe house.

As he pushed open the door to the apartment, he saw Raven lounging lazily on the sofa.

"You're here?" he said.

Raven blinked, her expression slightly surprised. Seeing no shock on Mike's face, she felt annoyed and couldn't help but say, "Why don't you look even a little surprised?"

"This is the third safe house you've found. Do you really think I'd be surprised anymore?"

"Ha!" Raven chuckled, covering her mouth in mock amusement. "Do you have any other hideouts?"

Mike replied flatly, "Who knows?"

Raven's tone turned serious. "How did things go with Sloan?"

"You seem awfully interested in this," Mike remarked.

Raven responded sincerely, "Because it concerns you."

Mike snorted coldly. "That's not funny."

"No fun at all," Raven muttered, reclining lazily back onto the sofa.

Suddenly, Mike said, "You're working with Sloan to rescue the Hellfire Club leader who was captured two years ago, aren't you?"

Raven bolted upright, her tone instantly colder. "Are you planning to stop me?"

Mutants…

After the Hellfire Club stirred up chaos worldwide in an attempt to carve out a space for mutant survival through force, most ordinary people across the globe developed a deep hostility toward mutants as a group.

Two years ago, when the Hellfire Club's leader was captured by S.H.I.E.L.D., the organization's activities had finally toned down. It was around that time that Raven joined the Assassin's Guild.

Other than Mike—who had accidentally discovered her mutant identity during a mission—no one else in the guild knew her secret.

Perhaps Sloan suspected something now, but that was still just a possibility.

"Do I look like I have the time?" Mike replied.

Raven stared at him for a few seconds before relaxing and leaning back again. Twirling a strand of her golden hair between her fingers, her tone turned light. "True, you're quite busy—you've got a kid to take care of, after all."

"If you're only here to check whether Sloan and I came to an agreement, you can leave now," Mike said.

"Ah, so cold," Raven teased. "I wanted to ask you—what exactly did you mean yesterday when you said you'd need my help?"

"You'll find out after Kutch is dead," Mike said firmly.

Raven stood up, giving Mike a charming smile. With a casual transformation into someone else's appearance, she turned and walked away.

It seemed she owed Mike another favor.

After Raven left, Mike sat down on the sofa, and with a thought, a dagger materialized in his hand.

Tossing the dagger up and down, Mike's face remained expressionless.

Over the past two months, he had finally gained some understanding of his ability:

1. *Manifestation of Memory and Imagination*: He could materialize objects from his memories.

2. *Limited Memory Access*: He could only manifest objects from memories of his previous life. Anything he remembered from after his "crossing over" was impossible to manifest.

3. *Time Limit*: The manifested objects had a time limit. The stronger the object, the shorter the duration. Some items couldn't be manifested at all due to his current lack of power.

4. *Time Efficiency*: Each manifestation required time. The more familiar the object, the faster it could be manifested. Through practice, the item he was most proficient at manifesting was a dagger.

5. *No Modern Technology*: He was unable to manifest modern or advanced technological weapons.

After piecing it all together, Mike came to a conclusion...

"Useless ability."

(End of Chapter)