Getting stronger and stronger starting from Marvel

Of course, Smith didn't want things to develop this way. He was planning to take Bai Ye with him once he woke up, and he even started writing in his diary these days.

That way, no matter what happens to Bai Ye in the future, he can make money by publishing his diary.

If Bai Ye joins the Brotherhood later, he will write a book called "My Mutant Client," which will analyze Bai Ye's inner thoughts in detail and how the other party turned bad.

If Bai Ye were to join the official organization, he could change the content to "My Mutant Brother" and shower Bai Ye with compliments in the book.

Regardless of what Bai Ye's future holds, this is like Qin Shi Huang looking in the mirror—a win-win situation.

Leaving aside Smith's daydreams, Bai Ye, having calmly returned home, prepared to start exercising, aiming to raise his physical fitness to 1.5 tonight and break through his physical limits.

According to the description in the instructions, any long-term injury can be healed as long as it reaches a strength of 1.5. It is likely that once the physical constitution reaches a strength of 1.5, there will be a qualitative leap in healing ability.

Just as Bai Ye was about to start exercising, he took off his shirt and hung it aside. He had just lifted the wardrobe with both hands when his phone suddenly rang.

With a puzzled look, Bai Ye gently put down the wardrobe in her hands, walked to the table, and saw an unfamiliar phone number displayed on her phone. With some kind of guess, Bai Ye pressed the call button.

"Hey Bai, are you short on cash lately? I'm planning to land another big job. If you do it, I'll give you 10% of the profits." A hoarse but hearty voice came from the other end of the phone.

Hearing the voice on the phone, Bai Ye was silent for a while, then said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Uncle Li, I already said before that I'm not going to do anything like this in the underworld anymore."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, as if he was thinking about something, before he continued to ask, "Ah Bai, are you really sure you're quitting? You were born for this. After you left, none of those young men amounted to anything. I was hoping you would take over for me."

Hearing what was said on the other end of the phone, Bai Ye still insisted, "Uncle Li, I'm really sorry, as I said before, I just want to focus on my studies right now."

"Aren't you really going to consider it again? Studying those lousy books is nowhere near as comfortable as being in the underworld. One job can easily earn you more than a year's salary." The tone on the other end of the phone became incredibly regretful.

"After your gambling parents died, if it weren't for your uncle taking you in, you would have been sold to a nightclub to work as a male prostitute long ago. But with your figure, even working as a male prostitute would be more promising than studying."

"I've thought it through, Uncle Li. I'll hang up now, I have something else to do." Bai Ye said, hanging up the phone expressionlessly, then gave a cold laugh.

He knew perfectly well that his parents had originally done quite well in New York, but their gambling addiction and high-interest loans were all orchestrated by Uncle Li, a fellow countryman from Chinatown.

If I hadn't been a bit clever, then the outcome would have been exactly as Uncle Li said: young, destitute, and with nothing but my good looks, I would definitely have been sold into prostitution.

The only difference is that the person who sold him out and was counting the money behind his back was Uncle Li from the other end of the phone.

Over the years, by doing illegal work for the other party, he gradually paid off the loans his parents had owed, and only then was he able to extricate himself from the situation.

As for why he wanted to break away, although he hadn't regained his memories of his past life, he could still see things very clearly.

In a place teeming with mutants, continuing to work in the underworld could lead to your entire family being slaughtered in no time if you offend some ruthless person.

After hanging up the phone, Bai Ye didn't immediately start exercising. Instead, he began to think about how to launder the money he had robbed.

Previously, he planned to use Uncle Li as a connection to launder the money directly, so that Bai Ye could get the money, and Uncle Li could also take about 10% commission.

But to Bai Ye's surprise, Uncle Li called first, asking him to get involved in the underworld again. After refusing, he certainly couldn't ask the other party to launder money.

This wasn't about feeling embarrassed; it was about doubting the other person's integrity. He was afraid that Uncle Li would wash away all his earnings, leaving him with either a bitter pill to swallow or the prospect of working for him again for money.

Bai Ye sighed slightly. Since this method was not feasible, he had to think of another way. He was short of funds and needed to use up all the money as soon as possible.

With new questions in mind, Bai Ye picked up the cabinet again to continue exercising. Improving himself was more reliable than any other plan, so he decided to give up practicing the Purple Cloud Divine Skill for tonight.

If I can reach a physique level of 1.5 by tomorrow, the time saved by the increase in aptitude brought about by the improvement in physique should be enough to easily make up for the cultivation time lost tonight.

Chapter 17 Undercurrent

New York City is brightly lit at night.

In a hospital ward in the city center, a handsome man wearing sunglasses and with bandages on his right hand and left leg is lying on the hospital bed.

The man was none other than Daredevil Matthew, whose arms and legs had been broken by White Night's rifle last night. At this moment, he was holding a charcoal pencil tightly with his intact left hand and waving it around in front of the notebook.

While it may seem incredible that a blind person can draw, Matthew, whose five senses are beyond those of ordinary people, can generate the shape of objects in his mind simply from the echo of sound, making him even more agile than sighted people in daily life.

With the scratching sound of the charcoal pencil sliding across the paper in front of him, until the last stroke fell, the image of a handsome man who looked about 18 years old, as beautiful as a celestial being, leaped onto the paper.

After finishing his drawing, Matthew put down his charcoal pencil, still utterly bewildered by the scene from the previous night: 'Who exactly is this guy? How does he know so much about my identity and weaknesses?'

Remembering what Bai Ye had said last night—that if anyone dared to continue probing into his identity, he would reveal it to Kingpin—Matthew felt a chill run down his spine. The feeling that his own life and the lives of his friends were in someone else's hands was truly ominous.

Just as Matthew was hesitating about whether to continue investigating Bai Ye's whereabouts, he heard a noise outside the ward. Judging from the voice, he knew that it was his good friend Amy from his firm who had come to visit him with a flower basket.

With a click, the door lock was pressed, and Amy strode in, asking with concern, "I heard you got caught up in a gang fight last night and were caught in the crossfire. How badly were you hurt?"

"Fortunately, the doctor said I'm in good physical condition and will recover quickly, but I probably won't be able to work for a month," Matthew said with a smile.

Amy breathed a sigh of relief: "It's good that you're alright. The security situation has been getting worse lately, and we're almost overwhelmed with work. We're just waiting for you to recover so you can come and help us."

As he spoke, he noticed a piece of paper covered up on the table next to the hospital bed: "Hey, what's that?"

Amy picked it up casually, looked at the sketch on the paper, and her eyes lit up. "Who drew this sketch by your bed? This young man's drawing is so beautiful. Is there a real person in it?"

As she spoke, Amy's expression became somewhat strange. Who on earth would send a portrait to a blind man? This behavior was far too abstract.

“Oh, this was drawn by a friend of mine. As for the person in the drawing, he actually saw a student on the street and drew him on the spot after he got home because he was so impressed with him,” Matthew explained with a smile.

"Don't you recognize her? That's such a pity. I'd love to see her in person. But this must be photoshopped. I've never seen anyone so good-looking before," Amy said with a regretful expression.

“I’ll tell my friend that if I see him next time, I’ll exchange contact information and introduce him to you if I have the chance,” Matthew said, then, as if remembering something, he subtly added, “I overheard the family members in the next bed talking about whether another bank has been robbed recently?”

"That's right, this matter has caused quite a stir. Our firm is discussing it. Last night, a gang robbed the vault of Terry Bank. They had already blown the vault open, but then a supervillain appeared and double-crossed them, driving off with all the stolen goods and their car."

"When the police arrived, they only caught the gang. They all had their ankles pierced and couldn't run away. As for the super criminal, after a whole night of searching, they only found his abandoned car."

"Because of this incident, it was all over the front page of the newspapers this morning, and the police have almost lost face as well."

At this point, Amy suddenly raised a finger and said, "Oh, right, I heard that the police station is going to hold a public briefing tomorrow morning."

"A public briefing?" Matthew asked curiously, also knowing who the guy who lost the cash was.

Amy nodded and explained, "That's right. After all, there hasn't been a bank robbery in New York for a long time, and with all the talk about it, we definitely need to hold a briefing to reassure New Yorkers."

"Is that so? It seems the NYPD is really serious this time." Matthew nodded, then chatted with Amy for a while longer. Seeing that it was getting late, they agreed to meet again the next morning.

Meanwhile, at the New York Police Commissioner's home, George looked at the negative comments about the police department online, and several strands of his hair turned white.

As an ordinary person in a bustling international metropolis like New York City, I only rose to the position of bureau chief through years of hard work.

But anyone with eyes can see that these police officers are fine when dealing with ordinary criminals, but when facing superhumans, mutants, vampires, and other extraordinary beings, it's already quite an achievement for them to survive.

He had asked his superiors countless times if there were any super-powered police officers or something similar that could be sent down from nowhere. Otherwise, when a major incident occurred, it would be too passive for them, the police officers, to be left with nothing but hoping that those super vigilantes could solve the problem.

However, these requests were always brushed off, with the excuse that the military's research project based on the super soldier serum was recently forced to stop because a test subject escaped from the base during the experiment, causing the experiment to be temporarily suspended. The military is currently making every effort to capture the subject, and we can only wait a little longer.

But no matter what, by being cautious and having a clear understanding of its own strengths, it has managed to get through these years, patching things up bit by bit. Compared to other major cities, New York City's annual police fatality rate is only 5%, which is already quite remarkable.

Thinking about the press conference he was to attend the next morning, he rehearsed his speech one last time before going to bed. Feeling powerless, he declined his wife's invitation and fell asleep, exhausted both physically and mentally.

"I should launder the money in my hands as soon as possible," Bai Ye thought to himself as he exercised in his bedroom.

I'm getting increasingly strapped for cash lately, so I should legalize my funds as soon as possible.

Just as Bai Ye was thinking this, several men with fierce appearances and large muscles sat together in a warehouse.

"The police will hold a press conference at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. There will be many police officers there at that time, which will be the time when the police force is at its weakest."

“At that time, we just need to do the opposite, and we can complete the operation fully armed,” said a scarred man.

"Brother, which bank should we rob?" a man asked.

“Of course it’s Lansher Bank. I’ve done my research thoroughly. This bank has the most abundant cash reserves in all of New York City, but the security isn’t very strict,” Scarface said.

But at this moment they overlooked an important question: why was the security so lax at this bank with so much money?

Chapter 18 The Bank Meets the Bank

In the early morning, sunlight streamed through the window and fell on the headboard.

As the alarm rang, Bai Ye, whose eyes had been slightly closed, suddenly opened them and reached out her right hand to turn off the alarm.

After several hours of effort last night, his physical attributes were successfully raised to 1.5, which means that all three of his attributes have broken the limits of human beings.

The base values ​​on the White Night panel are now as follows:

Name: Bai Ye

Lifespan: 18/200

Strength: 1.5+0.2

Physique: 1.5+

Spirit: 1.5+

Charisma: 1.4+

Attribute points to be used: 0.3

……

After his physical condition reached 1.5, his lifespan was successfully extended to over 200 years. If he had lived a few more years, he could have lived through another American history.

As for other characteristics of his physique, Bai Ye discovered that as his training ended, the description of the long-term damage caused by the number of training sessions completely disappeared from the description section, leaving only the description of how many training sessions could improve physical fitness by 0.1.

After getting up and gently moving his body, Bai Ye quickly washed up, opened the refrigerator, took out some food, and slowly chewed. Today, he still needed to go out to resolve the issue of that illicit money.

As for the school-arranged visit to the Osborne Group? Just skip class.

study? Learn shit!

As his physical abilities improved, Bai Ye began to realize that he was becoming less and less concerned about things other than power, or rather, he was better able to prioritize things. In the face of pure violence, everything else had to give way.

"Huh." Bai Ye, who was eating, suddenly let out a soft "huh" and touched his stomach in surprise, feeling a sense of fullness coming from his abdomen.

"Why is my appetite smaller today?" Bai Ye asked, puzzled, looking at the food he hadn't finished eating.

In recent days, due to the excessive exercise he has been doing every day, coupled with his improved physical condition, his appetite has been growing day by day. He feels hungry frequently, and because he is unwilling to deprive himself, his daily food expenses have also been enormous.

But at this moment, he began to feel that his appetite was only half of what it was yesterday morning.

'Is it because of improved physical condition? Does the enhanced stomach make better use of food?' Bai Ye could only guess.

After casually eating the half-eaten food in front of him, Bai Ye put the rest of the food in the refrigerator and prepared to go out.

On the other side, at nine o'clock in the morning, students from Midtown High School boarded the school bus one by one before the designated time.

"Where's Bai Ye? Bai Ye didn't come again?" Teacher James looked at the students on the bus and, sure enough, didn't see that conspicuous figure in the crowd. He then turned his gaze to Peter on the bus.

Peter Parker shook his head helplessly, indicating that he didn't know either.

James repeated himself, and after confirming that the student really hadn't come, he felt helpless about this self-destructive student. He said to the students on the bus, "Everyone, sit down. We're going to Osborne."