Marvel: I can summon heroes from League of Legends

Hell's Kitchen was plunged into chaos at night, the air thick with danger. Bright lights from nightclubs and noisy markets served as hideouts for local thugs.

In a dark alleyway, a group of bouncers stood guard by a massive iron door. These burly guys were positioned on either side of the door, their outfits revealing that they belonged to different groups. Their mission was to guard the entrance behind which their bosses held negotiations.

Inside, the atmosphere sharply contrasted with the filthy alleyway outside. The room was lavishly furnished: the floor was covered with an expensive rug, and two massive sofas stood in the center, where two men in suits sat smoking cigars.

"Black, how's it going with that shipment you mentioned?" asked the man in a black suit, exhaling smoke.

"Great, it's top-grade stuff. Once you try it, you'll forget about everything else," Black grinned, revealing a row of gold teeth.

"Cut the theatrics, that's not what I meant," Leighton said dismissively, clearly displeased with Black's evasive answers.

"Relax, Leighton," Black replied, lifting a glass of whiskey. "Things have been tense in Hell's Kitchen lately. Some superhero's been causing trouble, so we're taking precautions. But the shipment's already here—prime stock, brought from all over the world. Young, beautiful—the perfect goods, sure to fetch a high price."

"Excellent. This is only the beginning. Once our buyers see what we've brought, the money will flow," Black smirked, his teeth flashing in the lamplight.

"Haha, show me the goods."

"Sure, they're in the next room."

The men laughed and clinked glasses, confident in their success.

However, their celebration was abruptly cut off by the sound of gunfire outside the door. Both men turned sharply.

Noah, observing from a rooftop, used Lissandra's scanning system to monitor what was happening in the alley. Besides the guards and the two negotiators, he saw blue markers in adjacent rooms. Using magical energy, he peered inside, realizing that these rooms held young girls trafficked from across the globe. Now it was clear what kind of people he was dealing with.

"As expected, pathetic scum. Tonight, you won't even reach hell—you'll serve as fuel for lifting the Dark Seal," he said, narrowing his eyes. His hat sensed its master's anger, its edges expanding and releasing magical sparks.

Enveloped in magical energy, Noah soared downward toward the grim alleyway.

His ethereal form floated silently to the ground, not stirring a speck of dust. At first, the guards didn't notice him, but one of them soon saw a faint blue glow approaching from the darkness.

"What's that?" one thug asked in surprise, instinctively reaching for the pistol at his waistband, tensing into a stance.

"Hey, what the hell is that?" came voices from the others, who also noticed the light and the figure approaching them.

Step by step, he slowly drew closer until he stood fully before them.

"Hah, is it Halloween or something? Why's some wizard cosplayer here?" one of the bouncers sneered.

Now they could all see Noah: he wore a glowing purple hat, multicolored gloves on his hands, and a long black cloak draped over his figure. The cloak was made of vibranium nanoparticles by Lissandra, as he hadn't acquired magical clothing and decided to use this as a temporary substitute.

To his opponents, he looked like an oddball dressed in wizard cosplay. The two gang leaders exchanged glances, and one of them, a white-haired man, laughed:

"Hey, I heard they call you 'The Crippler' because you love breaking people's arms and legs. Why haven't we heard about you in a while?"

"Hmph!" scoffed a blonde thug to whom the remark was directed. "It's all because that 'Storm Swordsman' started patrolling these parts. The boss ordered us to lie low, and my hands are itching from the inactivity!"

"The Crippler" gritted his teeth in rage, hating the superhero who had caused him so much trouble. However, he only dared to voice his displeasure in private circles. He had seen videos online of the Storm Swordsman fighting monsters, where it seemed he could end him with a flick of his finger.

"Well, there's a perfect target for you," the white-haired thug sneered, nodding toward the approaching Noah. "There's no one else around, so it's perfectly safe."

"Huh?" The Crippler paused, his face twisting into a sadistic grin as he imagined his favorite activity. He immediately drew his gun, aiming it at Noah, who was just a few meters away.

"Kid, you've got only yourself to blame for wandering where you shouldn't," the Crippler sneered, pulling the trigger and aiming for Noah's leg.

A loud shot rang out, but no sound of flesh tearing, nor any cry of pain, followed.

"What?!" one of the nearby thugs exclaimed, as the Crippler stared in shock at the sight before him. The scene unfolding before his eyes made him widen them in disbelief.

The bullet, fired by the Crippler, stopped mid-air in front of Noah as if it had hit an invisible wall.

"Dammit," muttered the white-haired thug, realizing something had gone wrong. He'd heard that after the arrival of Iron Man and the Storm Swordsman, other strange figures had started appearing in Hell's Kitchen. Now, he suspected they were unlucky enough to have encountered one of them.

As soon as the bullet was fired, Noah gently raised a finger, and magical energy halted the bullet in the air before him.

Listening as Lissandra relayed information about the gang, he flicked his finger, sending the bullet back at an increased speed. The bullet tore through the Crippler's leg in the exact spot he had aimed at Noah, shattering bone and ripping flesh.

"Aaaahhh!!!" screamed the Crippler. Now, his nickname had taken on a literal meaning, as the magic-boosted bullet had cost him his leg.

The other thugs finally snapped out of their shock. Uncertain of who they were dealing with, they pulled out their pistols and started firing. The white-haired thug, drawing his weapon, backed away, hiding behind the others.

"Ratatat!"

Shots echoed, but not a single bullet hit its mark—Noah had vanished, as if he'd melted into thin air.

"What the... Where is he?!"

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