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Chapter 307 I Can't See It
"Fake! It's completely fake!"
Kara grumbled, displeased.
"What's fake?" Orin Vale gave her a strange look.
Kara pouted. "That guy at the stall... he claims he's selling a strand of my hair, but it's not mine at all! And his certificate must be a forgery!"
"Is that so?"
Orin Vale followed her pointing finger and saw the man claiming to sell a strand of Supergirl's hair. The stall owner looked unfamiliar, dressed in a black, minion-like uniform and wearing a nondescript eye mask identical to Robin's, which covered his cheekbones.
With a single glance, Orin Vale was certain this was a minor character he had never seen, either in the original comics or since he had transmigrated. In fact, there were quite a few characters like him. Although they all claimed to be supervillains, only a minority in this underground black market were actually well-known.
This showed just how many people had obtained superpowers through various channels in this DC-style era of awakening superpowers. The well-known ones who appeared in the comics were already the cream of the crop. The vast majority of superpowered individuals were nobodies, and even most street criminals were just minions—the kind who were no different from ordinary people in front of any of the gods from the Justice League.
Orin Vale glanced at the stall and couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath. Good grief. A single strand of Kara's hair—and a fake one at that—was starting at a hundred thousand dollars. Such a ripoff.
Apparently, no one in this black market was short on cash; every one of them was a supervillain who lived by licking blood from the blade's edge. They couldn't compare to tycoon capitalists like Lex Luthor or Batman, but this bit of money was probably just pocket change to them.
"A fake one can sell for this much?" Orin Vale muttered, frowning in thought.
"Yeah, it's ridiculous. If I didn't have other things to do, I wouldn't be able to resist going up there and exposing him."
Kara grumbled for a moment, then suddenly felt that something was off. She turned her head to see Orin Vale in deep thought, his head tilted as if he were studying her beautiful, radiant blonde hair.
Kara froze for two seconds, then seemed to realize something. The cowlick on her forehead shot up like the fur of a startled cat.
The girl backed away in terror, clutching her head. "N-No! You can't do that!"
Orin Vale narrowed his eyes.
"Where did your mind go?"
"A-Aren't you thinking of plucking my hair to sell?" Kara asked cautiously, still holding her head.
"I was just wondering if that was really your hair, would it become ordinary after leaving your body and losing its supply of solar energy," Orin Vale said coolly. "Purely for scientific research."
"Oh, I see."
Kara scratched her head, a little embarrassed. She thought for a moment and said in a low voice, "Actually... if it's you, Mr. Orin, I guess a few strands... would be okay. But definitely not too many! What if I go bald..."
"You won't go bald. You'll regenerate," Orin Vale shot her a look. "If I really wanted to sell some, I could sell my own. I could even add a glowing special effect to it. But what would I do with so much money?"
"Oh... right..."
Orin Vale didn't continue bickering with her about hair. As they spoke, he was already winding his way through the market, arriving at a mysterious stall that exuded an air of divination.
The stall owner had clearly tried to create a mystical atmosphere. A translucent amethyst crystal floated overhead like a chandelier, emitting a faint, mysterious glow. The stall was draped with ancient oil paintings and tapestries, each seemingly telling a silent, forgotten story.
The owner of this stall was dressed in a purple-black robe, looking like a wizard.
Felix Faust. A scholar, wizard, supervillain, and a classic antagonist of the Justice League and Justice League Dark.
He was originally a university professor obsessed with the study of mysticism. While reading ancient notes, he discovered the secrets of ancient black magic. To obtain limitless wisdom and eternal life, he resorted to any means necessary. Driven by desire, he repeatedly explored forbidden domains, putting him in opposition to the heroes.
This man was already among the higher-level villains present, and also one of the few villains Orin Vale recognized. But Orin Vale had no grudge against him; he just needed something in his possession.
A Memory Crystal, just like a traditional crystal ball used for divination, except for the violet chaos churning within. It lay quietly on his stall.
Orin Vale walked up. "How much for this?"
Faust, who was intently reading a thick magic book with his legs crossed, lifted an eyelid when he heard someone approach.
"The Memory Crystal. Fourteen million, price is firm," he said lazily. "If you understand magic—and since you've taken an interest, you probably do—you should know that it's worth far more.
But it just so happens that I'm in urgent need of money, and I'm starting to research the system of memory magic proposed by Master Madefield, so this thing is useless to me now.
Even so, this is the lowest price. No counteroffers."
Orin Vale nodded. "Very reasonable."
Just as Faust thought the deal was settled and was about to close, he saw Orin Vale turn to the girl beside him. "Kara."
Kara, who was already prepared and had been holding her breath, immediately exhaled upon hearing her name.
In an instant, Faust, along with his entire stall, was frozen solid. The black magic wizard was sealed in an ice sculpture, frozen on the spot without a chance to utter a single word of a spell.
To be fair, as a known antagonist to two Justice Leagues, Faust wasn't weak. His knowledge of magic was in the top tier on Earth. But no matter how strong he was, he was still a mage with the physical body of a mere mortal. Without the chance to cast a spell, he could only be instantly defeated by the god-like members of the Justice League.
The attack was completely unexpected. Faust was still wide-eyed when he was frozen, his face a mask of disbelief inside the ice.
What the f*ck... a double-cross???
In Zandia? In this famous villain black market? Are they insane?
Everyone knew to keep a low profile in Lorratt's territory. Even the most vicious criminals wouldn't dare to cause trouble here. Because everyone knew the owner of this place was all-powerful, knew her methods, and knew she could mobilize all sorts of famous big shots from the supervillain world.
Even the self-proclaimed extraordinary Faust didn't dare to cause trouble here lightly.
But these two small-time villains, who looked completely unknown and whose identities he couldn't even recall, actually dared to pull a double-cross here?
The other criminals who were trading or strolling around also cast astonished gazes over.
Everyone was surprised that someone actually dared to make a move so brazenly here, but no one stepped forward to intervene.
After all, everyone present was a bad guy; they all had a villain's code of conduct. Sticking up for a stranger was an act of heroism. A bunch of villains performing an act of heroism? Wouldn't that be the same as colluding with those damn superheroes?
Besides, the black market has its own rules. Everyone adopted a wait-and-see attitude, thinking that the market organizers would naturally come out to uphold justice.
Then they saw the man and woman freeze the stall owner, take the item from the stall, and swagger out through the main entrance.
Oh, and before leaving, that beautiful blonde girl even gave the ice sculpture a respectful bow and said, "Sorry."
The crowd of criminals: "..."
Hey, where are the organizers?
These two are about to get away with it. Isn't it a bad time to keep playing dead?
"Mr. Snake Eyes!"
Accompanied by thudding footsteps, the henchman slammed the door open and ran into the office, once again drenched in sweat.
"Those two troublemakers... they're at it again! They openly froze a stall owner and stole the merchandise from his stall!"
Snake Eyes gave him a cold look. The gaze sent a chill down the henchman's spine, and he trembled involuntarily.
"L-Lord Snake Eyes?" the henchman asked tentatively, his voice wavering.
"Nonsense," Snake Eyes said, leaning back and speaking in a deep, authoritative voice. "Everything looks normal. I didn't see a thing."
The henchman's jaw dropped, his face filled with shock.
They're practically taking a dump on our heads, and you still can't see it?
"B-But..." the henchman tried to speak again.
"Enough," Snake Eyes interrupted authoritatively. "My vision is 20/20 in both eyes. I didn't misjudge it. If you keep spouting nonsense, do you want to be kicked out of the syndicate?"
"N-No." The henchman submitted, lowering his head and not daring to say another word.
"That's more like it."
Snake Eyes nodded in satisfaction, leaned back into his chair, and closed his eyes to rest.
*Hmph, you little punk. If I can't handle those two freaks, you think I can't handle you?*
(end of chapter)
"Fake! It's completely fake!"
Kara grumbled, displeased.
"What's fake?" Orin Vale gave her a strange look.
Kara pouted. "That guy at the stall... he claims he's selling a strand of my hair, but it's not mine at all! And his certificate must be a forgery!"
"Is that so?"
Orin Vale followed her pointing finger and saw the man claiming to sell a strand of Supergirl's hair. The stall owner looked unfamiliar, dressed in a black, minion-like uniform and wearing a nondescript eye mask identical to Robin's, which covered his cheekbones.
With a single glance, Orin Vale was certain this was a minor character he had never seen, either in the original comics or since he had transmigrated. In fact, there were quite a few characters like him. Although they all claimed to be supervillains, only a minority in this underground black market were actually well-known.
This showed just how many people had obtained superpowers through various channels in this DC-style era of awakening superpowers. The well-known ones who appeared in the comics were already the cream of the crop. The vast majority of superpowered individuals were nobodies, and even most street criminals were just minions—the kind who were no different from ordinary people in front of any of the gods from the Justice League.
Orin Vale glanced at the stall and couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath. Good grief. A single strand of Kara's hair—and a fake one at that—was starting at a hundred thousand dollars. Such a ripoff.
Apparently, no one in this black market was short on cash; every one of them was a supervillain who lived by licking blood from the blade's edge. They couldn't compare to tycoon capitalists like Lex Luthor or Batman, but this bit of money was probably just pocket change to them.
"A fake one can sell for this much?" Orin Vale muttered, frowning in thought.
"Yeah, it's ridiculous. If I didn't have other things to do, I wouldn't be able to resist going up there and exposing him."
Kara grumbled for a moment, then suddenly felt that something was off. She turned her head to see Orin Vale in deep thought, his head tilted as if he were studying her beautiful, radiant blonde hair.
Kara froze for two seconds, then seemed to realize something. The cowlick on her forehead shot up like the fur of a startled cat.
The girl backed away in terror, clutching her head. "N-No! You can't do that!"
Orin Vale narrowed his eyes.
"Where did your mind go?"
"A-Aren't you thinking of plucking my hair to sell?" Kara asked cautiously, still holding her head.
"I was just wondering if that was really your hair, would it become ordinary after leaving your body and losing its supply of solar energy," Orin Vale said coolly. "Purely for scientific research."
"Oh, I see."
Kara scratched her head, a little embarrassed. She thought for a moment and said in a low voice, "Actually... if it's you, Mr. Orin, I guess a few strands... would be okay. But definitely not too many! What if I go bald..."
"You won't go bald. You'll regenerate," Orin Vale shot her a look. "If I really wanted to sell some, I could sell my own. I could even add a glowing special effect to it. But what would I do with so much money?"
"Oh... right..."
Orin Vale didn't continue bickering with her about hair. As they spoke, he was already winding his way through the market, arriving at a mysterious stall that exuded an air of divination.
The stall owner had clearly tried to create a mystical atmosphere. A translucent amethyst crystal floated overhead like a chandelier, emitting a faint, mysterious glow. The stall was draped with ancient oil paintings and tapestries, each seemingly telling a silent, forgotten story.
The owner of this stall was dressed in a purple-black robe, looking like a wizard.
Felix Faust. A scholar, wizard, supervillain, and a classic antagonist of the Justice League and Justice League Dark.
He was originally a university professor obsessed with the study of mysticism. While reading ancient notes, he discovered the secrets of ancient black magic. To obtain limitless wisdom and eternal life, he resorted to any means necessary. Driven by desire, he repeatedly explored forbidden domains, putting him in opposition to the heroes.
This man was already among the higher-level villains present, and also one of the few villains Orin Vale recognized. But Orin Vale had no grudge against him; he just needed something in his possession.
A Memory Crystal, just like a traditional crystal ball used for divination, except for the violet chaos churning within. It lay quietly on his stall.
Orin Vale walked up. "How much for this?"
Faust, who was intently reading a thick magic book with his legs crossed, lifted an eyelid when he heard someone approach.
"The Memory Crystal. Fourteen million, price is firm," he said lazily. "If you understand magic—and since you've taken an interest, you probably do—you should know that it's worth far more.
But it just so happens that I'm in urgent need of money, and I'm starting to research the system of memory magic proposed by Master Madefield, so this thing is useless to me now.
Even so, this is the lowest price. No counteroffers."
Orin Vale nodded. "Very reasonable."
Just as Faust thought the deal was settled and was about to close, he saw Orin Vale turn to the girl beside him. "Kara."
Kara, who was already prepared and had been holding her breath, immediately exhaled upon hearing her name.
In an instant, Faust, along with his entire stall, was frozen solid. The black magic wizard was sealed in an ice sculpture, frozen on the spot without a chance to utter a single word of a spell.
To be fair, as a known antagonist to two Justice Leagues, Faust wasn't weak. His knowledge of magic was in the top tier on Earth. But no matter how strong he was, he was still a mage with the physical body of a mere mortal. Without the chance to cast a spell, he could only be instantly defeated by the god-like members of the Justice League.
The attack was completely unexpected. Faust was still wide-eyed when he was frozen, his face a mask of disbelief inside the ice.
What the f*ck... a double-cross???
In Zandia? In this famous villain black market? Are they insane?
Everyone knew to keep a low profile in Lorratt's territory. Even the most vicious criminals wouldn't dare to cause trouble here. Because everyone knew the owner of this place was all-powerful, knew her methods, and knew she could mobilize all sorts of famous big shots from the supervillain world.
Even the self-proclaimed extraordinary Faust didn't dare to cause trouble here lightly.
But these two small-time villains, who looked completely unknown and whose identities he couldn't even recall, actually dared to pull a double-cross here?
The other criminals who were trading or strolling around also cast astonished gazes over.
Everyone was surprised that someone actually dared to make a move so brazenly here, but no one stepped forward to intervene.
After all, everyone present was a bad guy; they all had a villain's code of conduct. Sticking up for a stranger was an act of heroism. A bunch of villains performing an act of heroism? Wouldn't that be the same as colluding with those damn superheroes?
Besides, the black market has its own rules. Everyone adopted a wait-and-see attitude, thinking that the market organizers would naturally come out to uphold justice.
Then they saw the man and woman freeze the stall owner, take the item from the stall, and swagger out through the main entrance.
Oh, and before leaving, that beautiful blonde girl even gave the ice sculpture a respectful bow and said, "Sorry."
The crowd of criminals: "..."
Hey, where are the organizers?
These two are about to get away with it. Isn't it a bad time to keep playing dead?
"Mr. Snake Eyes!"
Accompanied by thudding footsteps, the henchman slammed the door open and ran into the office, once again drenched in sweat.
"Those two troublemakers... they're at it again! They openly froze a stall owner and stole the merchandise from his stall!"
Snake Eyes gave him a cold look. The gaze sent a chill down the henchman's spine, and he trembled involuntarily.
"L-Lord Snake Eyes?" the henchman asked tentatively, his voice wavering.
"Nonsense," Snake Eyes said, leaning back and speaking in a deep, authoritative voice. "Everything looks normal. I didn't see a thing."
The henchman's jaw dropped, his face filled with shock.
They're practically taking a dump on our heads, and you still can't see it?
"B-But..." the henchman tried to speak again.
"Enough," Snake Eyes interrupted authoritatively. "My vision is 20/20 in both eyes. I didn't misjudge it. If you keep spouting nonsense, do you want to be kicked out of the syndicate?"
"N-No." The henchman submitted, lowering his head and not daring to say another word.
"That's more like it."
Snake Eyes nodded in satisfaction, leaned back into his chair, and closed his eyes to rest.
*Hmph, you little punk. If I can't handle those two freaks, you think I can't handle you?*
(end of chapter)
