The female musician was obviously more than just a musician, because the chicken man across from Joey—ah no, that was Stan Edgar—clearly showed no surprise at her abrupt behavior. The only emotional fluctuation he displayed came from Joey's ill-timed fried chicken joke.
"Don't be so petty, Stan." The female musician smiled as she patted Joey on the chest, stopping his apology. At this moment she was almost face-to-face with Joey, as if the two of them shared some intimate relationship.
"Kids say the darndest things. He's still just a child."
"Indeed."
The displeasure on Stan's face lasted only for a fleeting instant before fading away like mist, and he once again became the imposing helmsman of a corporation. He took a small sip of his whiskey and returned to being a purely pragmatic businessman.
"Child, you awakened your superpowers, but in doing so you accidentally lost your family. You have my condolences. Normally, for a teenager like you, we would follow the legal process and place you in a foster home. But you are different. You possess enormous potential that others do not. Vought cherishes all people with potential."
Stan Edgar had climbed his way up from the lowest ranks of Vought, so he naturally knew how to handle a sixteen-year-old who had just accidentally killed his own parents. Even though this boy displayed an unusual calmness—or perhaps coldness—what teenager didn't have a dream of becoming a superhero?
"Now it is time to make a decision: join the Vought family, stand in the spotlight, and become a legend; or refuse us, be entangled in lawsuits, and fade into obscurity."
Facing Stan Edgar's implicit threat, Joey smiled and shook his head. At this point, he didn't care about any damn superhero dream or foster home. He had only come to this world's superhero organization to ask for something.
"Mr. Edgar, first of all, I apologize for what I said earlier. Secondly, I'm not here to become a superhero like everyone else. I want to—"
"Shh~" The female musician raised a finger to interrupt Joey, then made a "please" gesture toward Edgar. "Stan, could you give us a moment alone?"
"No problem, Stormfront."
Stan's expression remained unchanged as he drained his whiskey in one gulp and stood up decisively to leave. Yet inside, ripples stirred once more.
The Vought board had chosen him to hold power, but that did not mean he could act with absolute authority within the company. Much like Disney Media, Vought was rife with internal undercurrents. One faction consisted of outside investors who had increased their shareholdings, entered the board, and gained influence.
The other faction was the company's native bloc—members of Vought who held original shares, along with company veterans. Stormfront was one of the most important holders of those original shares.
Stormfront had rarely appeared publicly since the time Stan Edgar first joined Vought. For her to suddenly show up now and explicitly demand the recruitment of a young man was unprecedented. Stan couldn't say what this signified, but he could foresee that it was definitely not good news.
And sooner or later, he would be the one cleaning up the mess.
```
"What happened to you—it wasn't your fault."
The woman known as Stormfront pulled over a chair from nearby and sat facing Joey.
Her smile was gentle and kind, her words full of care and understanding. Her facial features were soft, her skin fair and delicate. Slender fingers rested lightly on Joey's shoulders, encouraging him to relax.
It was common for superhumans to accidentally kill their own relatives due to poor control when awakening their powers. Stormfront looked at the boy before her—his face like steel, devoid of grief—with eyes full of indulgence.
A child who had just lost his parents—beneath that icy exterior must lie a shattered heart. With just a little affinity, coupled with meticulous care and a touch of love, he would surely become devoted to her.
"Are you hungry? Or tired? Or would you like something to drink?"
Stormfront stood up to help Joey set the table. Before he could refuse, she bent down attentively to tie a napkin around his neck, revealing a hint of cleavage before his eyes. "I don't like the owner of this building, but the food here is quite good..."
Faced with Stormfront's attentiveness, Joey was momentarily at a loss. Reason told him to stay highly alert, but since he needed something from them, he couldn't forcibly reject such enthusiasm.
By the time he realized it, the napkin was already tied, and the menu had been placed in his hands. Left with no choice, Joey decided to state his purpose first.
"Ms. Stormfront , I'm just here to ask you for some information."
Stormfront blinked her amber eyes playfully, her eyelashes trembling slightly with a barely perceptible allure. She smiled softly at Joey and extended her right hand, displaying arcs of electricity dancing in her palm.
"I'm like you—a supe. Stormfront is just my codename; you don't need to address me like that. My real name is Clara Risinger. Just call me Clara."
Storm straightened Joey's chair so that he faced the dining table directly.
"No matter what you want, as long as Vought has it, I can get it for you. But for now—let's order."
~~~ Several hours later
Joey was holding a tablet, rapidly flipping through all the materials Vought had collected since its founding regarding magic, witchcraft, Taoism, voodoo, shamanism, and various other legends. The tablet's painfully slow refresh rate greatly reduced his reading efficiency, and his mind was mired in a pile of fabricated, waterlogged folklore.
For example, one so-called witchcraft legend Joey immediately identified as fake claimed that some demons weaker than humans would secretly eat a person's shadow to replace it, hiding beside the victim while waiting for the right moment.
Tch— Joey glanced at the pitch-black shadow beneath his feet, and a sudden realization struck him.
Whoosh—
In an instant, Joey took a quick step and crossed most of the presidential suite. The gust of wind he generated sent the crystal chandelier overhead swaying violently, yet the shadow beneath his feet did not move at all.
With her disguise exposed, the Raven hiding in Joey's shadow no longer concealed herself. Several strands of black mist rose from the shadow and gathered at the window. Draped in a black cloak, Raven sat on the windowsill with one leg crossed over the other.
"So you noticed me. Are you really a Kryptonian? Most Kryptonians aren't sensitive to magic."
Joey stared fiercely at Raven sitting by the window, a nameless fire surging in his chest as he nearly crushed the tablet in his hand. "You actually had the nerve to hide right beside me!"
"If this were before today, I would have fled without hesitation once exposed. But now I think we need to talk."
Raven's face was hidden beneath her hood, revealing only a small pointed chin as she faced Joey.
"Everything you're reading now is almost completely useless. And I can also sense what you're thinking—you want to use magic or some kind of sorcery to resurrect your parents."
"I know what it feels like to lose family. And I know even better what happens when you abuse magic and deal with hell."
Raven removed her hood, revealing her delicate features and long purple-black hair that gleamed like obsidian. Her dark, abyssal eyes stared straight at this world's Superman.
"Because I used magic recklessly and opened a gate to the hell dimension, my mother, tens of thousands of people, and the place where I grew up were mercilessly annihilated by my father, Trigon. They all died because of me."
Raven floated down from the windowsill and grasped Joey's tense wrist.
"Don't follow in my footsteps, Superman. Accepting cruel reality can shatter a person's heart, but refusing to accept it will only leave deeper and deeper scars. Go back to Kansas. Erect gravestones for them, bury them, remember them, and let them go."
Raven's words were undoubtedly sincere. Joey had been as calm and detached as ice all day, but beneath that placid surface was a grief as vast as a black hole. Especially now, upon seeing Raven, his anger seemed to return as well. The clash of these two intense emotions left Joey at a loss, and he grabbed Raven's arm.
"Are you altering my thoughts?"
"What?!"
Through physical contact, she could indeed sense Joey's thoughts more clearly, but she had never intended to twist the mind of a Kryptonian. Feeling Joey's grip on her arm, she immediately understood what was happening.
"You know I didn't do that! Stop lying to yourself, Joey!"
She had not altered Joey's thoughts, and Joey knew she hadn't—but at this moment, Joey needed a reason for the recklessness he was about to commit.
Knock knock knock—
A knock sounded at the door.
Raven transformed into a crow, flapping her wings as she flew out of the room, bringing this argument to an end.