Chapter 3: Big foot

After clarifying the situation, Ivy's image materialized in Jude's mind. The two hadn't seen each other for a long time, and Jude had only seen Ivy in prison—a disheveled girl with unkempt hair and a distressed demeanor, likely not receiving proper treatment.

Deciding to find Ivy became Jude's last order of business for this body. A sudden knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and a voice outside yelled, "Jude Herbert, I know you're inside; open the door!"

Bang, bang, bang! Violent knocks resounded, causing the old door to eventually give way. Five men with messy hair, varying heights, and tattoos barged in. Expecting this, Jude had dismantled the Chevrolet classic car, seemingly avoiding trouble with Bigfoot.

Opening the refrigerator, Jude poured himself another beer, appearing nonchalant. "Bigfoot?"

"Yes, it's us, kid. What happened to your car? Why is it a pile of scrap iron?"

"I took it apart."

The five were momentarily stunned, then erupted in fury. "Why did you demolish it? Do you know its value? Now it's destroyed. You have to compensate me $300,000, no, $3 million!"

Jude leaned back, unfazed. "Sorry, I seem to only owe you $3,000."

"It was originally $3,000, but you stupidly ruined my car. It's now worth $3 million. If you can't pay, I'll take anything sellable from you, including your liver!"

Jude remained indifferent, shaking his finger. "Firstly, it's my car, and secondly, no one can take my liver."

"catch him!"

The cramped apartment limited their movements, allowing only three to rush forward. Grandpa Rick's battle memory activated in Jude's mind, but his current physical state made using a gun convenient.

He produced the still-warm small laser transmitter and hooked his finger. A brilliant white light shot out, instantly piercing one thug's chest.

"What…?" The screams echoed as the others watched in horror, realizing a gaping hole had appeared in the companion's chest. The hole expanded, resembling paper burning from the center outward, yet there was no blood. The horrific display was short-lived, as the person succumbed to the fatal injury.

"OMG!"

"FUCK!"

"What have you done?"

Jude remarked casually, "Just for defense, but his insides won't fetch a good price. It's a shame."

"Kill him!"

The gang's boss roared, and the remaining three rushed forward. However, he chose to retreat. Jude wouldn't let him go; fused with Grandpa Rick, he felt no guilt about eliminating wicked individuals.

Squeezing the trigger three times, the three thugs collapsed. Jude chased the boss outside, where the elevator indicated the fifth floor. The boss desperately pressed the elevator button, but living on the sixth floor meant escape was impossible.

Seeing Jude approach, the boss fled towards the stairs, pleading not to be killed. However, after only a few steps, he fell to the ground with a massive hole in his body.

With the Bigfoot Gang dealt with, Jude blew on the laser transmitter and quipped, "Not bad; one shot, one down."

Ding!

The elevator reached the sixth floor, and the door opened. Jude eyed his neighbor, the old lady Bandera, with suspicion.

She frowned and questioned, "What's going on, Herbert? Who's this person?"

After a brief silence, Jude tried to diffuse the situation. "Barbecue, you know? Having a barbecue party, Bandera. Go rest after your shopping; you're too old for young people's activities."

"But why is he lying on the ground?"

"Uh... He drank too much; go home quickly."

Jude lifted the little boss and carried him inside as Bandera left. Once inside, he sighed. "I hope Bandera doesn't blabber. You can't pile corpses at home; they need to be disposed of. I need some chemicals."

Considering the small loot from the corpses, $233 was better than nothing. After locking the door, Jude headed to the convenience store downstairs.

Naturally, strong acids and bases were the traditional methods, but they had drawbacks. As a genius scientist, Jude had better ways stored in his brain. He purchased Olay, disinfectant, baking soda, monosodium glutamate, and vinegar for a total of $67.

The chubby black cashier teased, "Jude, it looks like you're making a big meal."

"Yes, indeed. Five salted fish are waiting for me to pickle."

He then visited the pharmacy, spending $101 on alcohol, nitroglycerin tablets, cough syrup, and rofecoxib. With the ingredients ready, Jude, humming a tune, turned his small apartment into a makeshift lab.

As the sun set, a sizzling sound filled the air. The five corpses dissolved rapidly, and Jude, sipping his beer, marveled at the terrifying process. His brain held technology far beyond the times, surpassing even major companies like S.H.I.E.L.D., Stark Group, Wayne Group, and Lex Group, I believe they will definitely not lose or even be stronger than them.

What I need to do now is collect materials to make some useful equipment to avoid sudden death in this dangerous world and exercise some physical strengthening skills.