Atomic Skull and Metallo
Metropolis
These past few days had been excruciating for Albert Michaels.
His entire face was swathed in bandages, and his range of motion was limited to a small hospital room. His sense of time was confined to the mealtimes mentioned by the meal delivery person.
There were no entertainment options, not even a radio. Albert's remaining source of amusement was playing rock-paper-scissors with himself and counting numbers.
"One hundred... one thousand and one."
Just as Albert counted past a thousand, the sound of leather shoes stepping on the floor suddenly echoed in the room. Then, that courteous voice, long absent from Albert's ears, resurfaced.
"It's been a while, my friend. These past few days must have been tough for you, but please accept my apologies for your loneliness. Only by keeping you in a relatively quiet environment can your body recover as quickly as possible."
It was Simon Pons, who appeared in the hospital room, apologizing for not visiting Albert in these past few days.
Albert had complete faith in Simon Pons's words.
During these days following Albert's surgery, he hadn't experienced any headaches, and all of his previous ailments had vanished after the operation.
Albert felt as if he had been reborn.
"It's... not... necessary... to apologize, Simon," Albert stammered.
"Hahaha." Simon approached Albert, patting his back gently and comforting him. "It seems like you need to regain your ability to communicate with others now, my dear Albert. Rest assured, we will completely heal you."
"Th-thank you... very much." It took Albert a while to say those few words.
Watching Albert stutter due to not having interacted with others for a long time, Simon smiled slightly. He looked at Albert and said:
"Your surgery went very smoothly, my dear friend, but..."
"But... what?" Albert asked haltingly.
"You will gain some superpowers, much like Superman." Simon gently lured Albert, extending the things he had done for him into something better.
"Like Superman?"
Upon hearing Simon's words, Albert stopped stuttering. His unbandaged eyes suddenly became bright and full of spirit.
Who wouldn't envy the ability to soar through the sky at will, like a god among men, like Superman?
Or perhaps... use Superman's powers for some clandestine activities?
"Yes, just like Superman, my dear friend." Simon, like a demon enticing the ignorant to make a deal with their soul, seduced Albert with each word.
"Can I become Superman too? Can I be as famous as Superman, even more so?" As soon as this thought crossed Albert's mind, he became excited.
Suddenly, Albert felt his palms becoming very hot. He lifted his hands and saw two purple flames rising from them.
"What is this?!"
"This is your superpower." Simon looked at the flames in Albert's hands with satisfaction. He gazed into Albert's eyes and said earnestly:
"As long as you complete all the treatments, you can become just like Superman, or even more renowned than him!!!"
"More renowned than Superman..."
Albert was moved by these words, repeating them incessantly.
At that moment, Dr. Cheston pushed open the door and hurriedly entered. He whispered a few words to Simon Pons, who then showed a pleased expression. He turned to Albert and said:
"My dear friend, I have some matters to attend to. Please forgive me for not being able to stay here."
"Alright... no problem," Albert replied casually.
After receiving Albert's response, Simon left the room with Dr. Cheston, heading to the guest room where someone had been waiting for a long time.
"You've waited for a while, Mr. John Coburn," Simon Pons first apologized when he entered the guest room.
A man with thick lips and a buzz cut sat on a soft leather sofa. He wore a brown coat over a black turtleneck sweater, brown pants, and military boots.
"Not at all late, Mr. Simon Pons."
John Coburn's voice sounded cold, almost inhuman. He picked up a cigar from the table, and Simon Pons quickly gestured for one of his henchmen to light it for him.
"Then, I thank you for your patience."
Simon Pons adjusted his clothes and took a seat opposite John Coburn.
The strong aroma of the imported cigar in John Coburn's mouth seemed to be tasteless. He finished it in a few puffs, then turned his head to look at Simon Pons.
"Let's shake hands for the cooperation that lies ahead."
"For revenge!" John Coburn extended his hand, shaking Simon Pons's hand. Simon's hand was powerful, but it felt unnaturally cold. Simon Pons couldn't help but think that this man was no longer human.
Outskirts of Metropolis
Inside a gas station, a gang of motorcycle thugs was in the midst of a robbery.
The elderly store manager held his grandson in his arms. His cloudy eyes could no longer aim properly, and his trembling hands couldn't even lift a shotgun.
If he were ten years younger, he would have blown these bastards' heads off with a double-barreled shotgun to show them who was boss.
He watched as the motorcycle thugs, dressed in black leather jackets, vandalized his beloved store—the place that had been his lifeline. All he could do was spit in their direction.
"You'll get what's coming to you, you bastards!"
"Remember to save some money, old man. We'll be back tomorrow!"
Hearing the curses from the old man, the leader of the motorcycle thugs laughed disdainfully, then rode away with his three lackeys on their motorcycles.
Their raucous laughter echoed all the way, along with the roar of the motorcycle engines, making them sound loud and uncomfortable on this otherwise quiet night.
"Bastards!!!"
The old man threw a stone with all his might, but he couldn't even touch the tailpipes of the thugs' motorcycles.
At that moment, there was a slight vibration in the ground, followed by a streak of silver light passing in front of the old man.
Even at such a high speed, the old man heard a sentence.
"Your wish has been received by Ultraman!"
"Ultraman?!"
(End of this chapter)
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