The Rivals' Plot
The fathers of Hal and Tom were both pilots for Ferris Aircraft, and thanks to their fathers' friendship, the boys had known Carol Ferris since childhood.
Every boy meets his goddess during his youth, and they were no exception. In their hearts, Carol was the perfect goddess.
Later, due to changes in their fathers' work, the three had to separate, their contact lessened, and their friendship slowly faded. It wasn't until these past two years that they reconnected: Tom followed in his father's footsteps and became a pilot for Ferris Aircraft again, and Hal was recruited by Carol as a mechanic after retiring from the military due to his mother's illness.
However, time changes things. Carol Ferris was still as gentle and beautiful as they remembered, but she had become someone else's girlfriend.
Learning this, what could they say? They could only suppress the sadness and turmoil in their hearts and force a smile while offering their congratulations.
What made them sick, though, was that the bastard who got so lucky was a complete scumbag! Having such a beautiful and perfect girlfriend as Carol wasn't enough; he was fooling around with other women outside.
How could they tolerate this?
The two conferred and decided to teach that bastard a lesson—to vent their own anger and Carol's. After some investigation, they learned that the scumbag was likely the legendary Young Master Shaw. They immediately wilted like frostbitten eggplants. They were just ordinary people; they couldn't even afford to offend the police, let alone the boss of the Coast City underworld.
The two depressed friends could only go to a bar, drink, and curse Luke's name with every filthy, unbearable word, praying he would go to hell soon.
Unfortunately, the Lord of Hell did not hear their prayers. That philandering bastard continued to live a life of luxury, even transforming himself from an evil gang boss into the founder of an internet company.
"Damn Luke Shaw! Damn ShowMe! Don't expect us to sign up! We'd rather die than become users of ShowMe!"
After months of this frustration, things took a turn. Carol seemed to have finally given up on her "scumbag boyfriend." She actually called them, hoping they would step in and teach that bastard a painful lesson.
The two were overjoyed. They didn't hesitate and immediately agreed.
Under Carol's arrangement, the two men used the ventilation duct to sneak into the club's warehouse. Just as they were about to act, a clearer-headed Tom started to have second thoughts.
"Hal, maybe we should reconsider."
"Reconsider what?"
Tom nervously swallowed. "That bastard is known for being vengeful. If he finds out we did this to him, he'll kill us."
"Are you scared?"
Tom angrily retorted, "Aren't you?"
"No!"
Hal's face was resolute. "Coast City is a place with laws. Just because some police are in cahoots with him doesn't mean all of them are. Even if the police fail, there are Superheroes. Someone will eventually step up to become the Super Hero of Coast City and bring justice back to this city."
"But..."
Tom hesitated. "I heard he's done a lot of good things."
"What you see are illusions. All those gang leaders are the same. They use public opinion to portray themselves as philanthropists and good guys while secretly engaging in despicable, disgusting acts. There are too many people like that."
Hal spoke with conviction, and Tom found it hard to argue. Although he had his doubts, seeing his friend's determination, he could only give up his resistance.
The Fire That Wasn't
The two smashed the foreign liquor bottles in the storeroom and splashed the alcohol around, ensuring every corner was soaked. Having completed their task, they turned and climbed back into the ventilation shaft. Before leaving, Hal lit a match and dropped it onto the floor.
BOOM!
The liquor ignited. The flames spread rapidly, and within moments, the entire warehouse was engulfed.
Alarms blared, and the sprinklers on the ceiling sprayed water, but it had little effect. The liquor in the storeroom was high-proof vodka and other spirits, which a few small water jets couldn't extinguish.
The flames began to spread outside the warehouse. The alerted staff quickly notified the manager, who, seeing the severity of the situation, rushed to inform Luke.
"Young Master Shaw, what should we do? Should we—"
The manager was distraught. It was Young Master Shaw's party tonight, and he couldn't ruin it, but a fire was terrifying. If it got out of control, everyone present would be in mortal danger, and if fatalities occurred, the trouble would be much worse.
This was not a responsibility he could bear.
Luke pushed away the woman clinging to him and said gravely, "Where is the site?"
"The underground warehouse."
Luke strode out, with Dior Clay quickly following him.
By the time the group reached the underground warehouse, several staff members were attempting to use fire extinguishers, but the fire was simply too big. Even with their best efforts, they couldn't contain the spread.
Luke observed the scene for a few seconds, frowning. After a moment of thought, he spoke.
"Tell them to get out."
The manager paused, not understanding the instruction. Dior Clay grabbed his collar.
"Didn't you hear the Young Master? Take your people and get out immediately."
The manager snapped back to reality. Filled with confusion, bewilderment, and incomprehension, he nevertheless said nothing and led the equally bewildered staff away quickly.
Dior spoke chillingly.
"Young Master, who could it be?"
"We'll know in a minute."
Luke took off his jacket and tossed it to Dior. He walked calmly into the raging fire. As the flames reached him, his clothes quietly transformed. His shirt and pants vanished, replaced by a unique set of black battle armor.
This was Phantom Unit 2, a morphing battlesuit. Luke had modified it from Kryptonian battle armor, giving it the advantage of being wearable and easily carried, though its overall capabilities were weaker than Phantom Unit 1. It was an essential choice for travel, dating, and having fun.
The moment he saw the black armor, Dior's mouth hung open, his eyes flashing with intense shock.
The Young Master is indeed the Young Master; he always brings surprises—no, horrors!
Luke, clad in black armor, vanished into the flames. Moments later, an invisible impact swept through the warehouse. The air was stripped away, and deprived of oxygen, the flames immediately went out.
Luke pushed the door open, took the jacket Dior handed him, draped it over his shoulders, and walked out.
As he passed the manager, he patted his shoulder.
"This is only allowed to happen once."
The manager nodded profusely. "Don't worry, Young Master Shaw. If it happens again, I'll throw myself into the Pacific Ocean to feed the fish."
With that, he and his staff rushed into the warehouse. Seeing the room filled with black smoke, he froze for a few seconds before kicking one of the equally stunned staff members.
"What are you standing around for? Start pouring water! If even a single spark shows up again, you're all fired!"
The fire had no impact on Luke's mood. He continued the party, drinking and playing, enjoying the beautiful nightlife.
As for the cause of the fire, he didn't mention it, and Dior didn't ask. It was as if both men had forgotten the incident.
Outside The Capital of Fun, Carol, who had waited a long time without seeing any sign of a fire, frowned.
"What's going on? Didn't I tell you to set a fire? Where is it?"
A baffled Hal and Tom exchanged glances, both seeing a question mark in the other's eyes. It made no sense! That much high-proof liquor, even if it didn't explode, should have caused a massive blaze.
Yet, several minutes passed without any sign of a fire breaking out.
What the hell is going on?
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