Marvel: A Lazy-Ass Superman

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Winston Scott did not immediately refute Henry’s words. Instead, he nodded in agreement.

”I know Old Charlie. He isn’t wrong. Anyone capable of walking in daylight would rather do that than live like a vampire, hiding in the dark and only coming out at night.”

As he spoke, the elderly gentleman raised his glass in a polite toast, drained the whiskey in one gulp, and gently set the glass back on the table.

”But the disgusting thing about the underworld,” he continued, ”is that it drags people into it.

”It’s like a demon tempting an angel to fall. And once an angel falls, it tries to drag other angels down with it, without caring what those angels living peacefully in Heaven might think. That’s simply the nature of this world.

”Do you know how I became a hotel manager? I actually had the opportunity to become a respectable businessman in London. I even found a way into royal circles. If I had managed to add the title of Royal Warrant to my business, I would have been set for life.

”But this damned life rarely lets people who have once sunk into the mud go so easily. Sometimes courage and perseverance are worth very little when faced with threats to your life.”

As if realizing that his sudden lament sounded awkward, Winston quickly added apologetically,

”Oh, please don’t misunderstand. I’m not threatening you. I’m only talking about what happened to me personally. Your situation isn’t nearly that serious.”

Unconcerned, Henry set down his glass and said,

”So what exactly can I do for you people? Like Old Charlie suggested—pick up an Uzi, charge straight at the enemy with my head down, and spray bullets once I get close enough?

”That sort of stupidity only works once. After that, I’d just get arrested by the police.”

Winston looked genuinely surprised.

”No, of course we wouldn’t ask you to do something like that. Killing people is a job with virtually no barrier to entry. Plenty of people can do it. What truly draws attention is your seemingly limitless medical skill.”

”Heh. This is America. The world’s best doctors gather here. Compared to them, I’m nobody.”

Winston clearly disagreed.

”From what we know, the procedures you’ve performed are indeed nothing extraordinary in the eyes of medical authorities.

”But those same experts have admitted that their achievements come from specializing deeply in specific fields. To be like you—someone who seems to know everything, can do everything, and still has no record of failure—that’s beyond them.

”Your limb reattachment techniques, especially, leave people speechless. Those patients who’ve had hands or legs reattached return to normal lives afterward. Looking at them, no one would ever guess that those limbs had once been completely severed.

”And besides your superb medical skills, I’m sure you understand that many people aren’t suited to appearing in legitimate hospitals. Those medical authorities also aren’t people who can be ordered around at will.

”Many individuals rely on these renowned physicians to stay alive, and those individuals become the doctors’ patrons. That gives the doctors enough leverage to reject invitations from our side.

”So you should understand just how valuable high-level medical expertise really is.”

Henry wasn’t surprised in the slightest that Winston had his eye on that aspect of him.

He couldn’t even be bothered asking whether Winston knew he was the ”Tinkerer.” Of course he knew. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be saying these things. Judging from the conversation, the Continental seemed to know quite a bit.

Henry spoke casually, but his words carried an unmistakable note of complaint.

”Yeah. Looking back now, I can understand why a lot of doctors don’t want to treat people from your side of the world.

”Doctors are supposed to save lives and treat everyone equally. But every now and then you run into some motherfucking bastard. At that point, forget saving them—I want to send them off right there in the hospital bed.

”But rules are rules. I have to treat them, so I do. Yet after a while, it starts feeling meaningless. I stopped not because I was worried my skills would be challenged. I stopped because the evil inside me was being challenged.

”Do you know how easy it is to let a patient die accidentally on the operating table?

”The surgery can appear perfectly successful. All it takes is the slightest negligence in postoperative care, and the patient can still die.

”These bastards trust me enough to lay the most vulnerable parts of themselves bare before me. What’s their confidence based on? The belief that if they die, someone else will avenge them, so nobody would dare mess with them. But do you think I’d be afraid?

”Even if I had nothing to do with it, even if I performed my duties perfectly and explained every necessary precaution, human life is fragile. One moment it’s there; the next it’s gone. And then the blame still lands on me.

”So for everyone’s sake, it’s best not to give me that opportunity. Mr. Scott should understand this. For a doctor, killing someone is incredibly easy. Anyone who says otherwise is probably only half-competent.”

Beneath those complaints lay a very clear warning.

And when one recalled examples such as California State Senator Mike Horton and mob boss Andrew Saxon, the warning became even more obvious.

The former had tried to use Henry Brown’s bulletproof mutant abilities to protect himself from Continental assassins. In the end, he died anyway. Henry had cooperated only halfheartedly and never truly intervened.

The latter had kidnapped Henry and forced him to perform surgery. After all sorts of complications and schemes during the operation, he ultimately ended up in prison. His accumulated sentences totaled well over a century. He would never walk out alive.

There had also been several confrontations between Henry and the Los Angeles Police Department, along with the California FBI.

Perhaps not complete victories, but Henry Brown had always emerged with only minor losses while the police and FBI were left embarrassed and frustrated.

The Los Angeles Continental did possess some dirt on him.

But as long as it didn’t involve murder charges, exposing that information through legal channels would hardly matter. Given Henry’s current wealth, any penalties would be little more than an inconvenience.

Compared to his earlier days under Stark’s protection, he was now entirely independent. Do they have any idea how many people would be eager to extend him an olive branch?

Who would be foolish enough to play the villain and drive him into someone else’s arms?

That was why all the powerful families were still watching and waiting.

The best chance anyone had ever had to gain control over him was during the vampire infiltration of Stark Studios.

Who could have predicted that California’s vampire hunters would suddenly go berserk, launching relentless purges that wiped out the radicals and forced the traditionalists into hiding?

A man like Henry was as slippery as an eel. Nobody could get a firm grip on him.

And if someone finally did catch him, they would discover that what they were holding wasn’t an eel at all, but a plastic tube coated in soap bubbles—something that couldn’t be cut, bitten, or held onto.

For the first time, Winston Scott revealed a bitter smile.

”Mr. Brown, I certainly understand your perspective. But surely you can imagine how insane people become when they’re desperately grasping for a chance to survive.”

Henry laughed.

”Haha, don’t worry. Spread those words around. Anyone who truly wants to live will naturally think carefully about how stupid it is to entrust their treatment to someone with no formal medical degree, no medical license, and no legal qualifications as a physician.

”I never swore the Hippocratic Oath, and the law doesn’t protect this sort of practice. If someone thinks they can sue me, I’d be happy to play along. Let’s see who has more time to spare when the issue at stake is staying alive.

”Even if they want to compare who has more guns, that still won’t guarantee they won’t die on my operating table. If they don’t believe me, they’re welcome to gamble with their own lives.

”To be honest, if they spent half the effort they’re using to pressure me into saving people on finding alternative solutions, they’d probably be cured already.

”There’s no disease in this world that only I can treat.”

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