The Plot Starts Going Off the Rails (Part 1)

"Are you sure you’re really okay?"

Standing in the doorway, Thor carefully looked Eddie over. Eddie looked terrible. His hair seemed like it had not been washed for days and had become a tangled bird’s nest. The sweater underneath appeared to be a designer brand, but it was snagged in several places. His coat was even worse, with a grimy oil stain on one sleeve.

Thor had been wandering Hell’s Kitchen for the past few days and had seen plenty of homeless people. Eddie would have fit right into their ranks.

Seeing that his neighbor had fallen to such a state, Thor felt too embarrassed to bring up the noise complaint again. He could only say, "If you need help, I’m right next door…"

"Damn it! I’m not homeless!" Eddie had clearly seen the sympathy in Thor’s eyes. He punched the doorframe and said, "I just…"

He had barely uttered one syllable when he suddenly swayed backward and slammed into the entryway behind him. A cup on the cabinet fell to the floor and shattered. He turned to look at it and cursed, "Damn it, why again…"

Then he lurched violently to the left, smacking his head against the doorframe again. Like a puppet on strings, he staggered back several steps before rushing to the sink to vomit.

Thor could not stand by any longer. Even if not for Eddie’s sake, he had to protect the house he had worked so hard to find. He stepped into Eddie’s apartment, intending to see what was wrong with him.

Eddie’s apartment was a complete mess. Several boxes of documents and miscellaneous items were piled by the door, clearly packed in a hurry. Large and small objects had been stacked together without any order, looking ready to collapse at any moment.

Thor lifted his legs and stepped over the documents. To his left, he found a pile of machines he did not recognize—some messy-looking frames, others resembling cannons.

After living in the human world for so many days, Thor had roughly figured something out: any machine he did not recognize was probably expensive, and he definitely could not afford to compensate for it if he broke it. So he went around the left side and headed toward the sofa on the right.

A heap of clothes lay on the sofa. The most eye-catching items were several suits wrapped in garment bags. They looked different from the rest of the clothes. Even though Thor could not distinguish the various kinds of human clothing, he could tell these suits were far better made than the others.

Further in, there was a suitcase spread open on the floor. Clearly, this man named Eddie had been thrown out. His suitcase was packed in a chaotic mess, and many of his belongings had not even been taken out, still piled inside.

Stepping over the suitcase and entering the kitchen, Thor saw Eddie squatting on the floor with his back against the cabinets. He seemed to have completely broken down, his eyes dull as he muttered to himself.

Eddie saw a huge shadow appear before him. Looking up, he found the tall Thor watching him with concern. He opened his mouth as though he wanted to ask for help, but then decided that what he wanted to say was too absurd and said nothing.

"How about I take you to the hospital?" Thor lowered his head and said to Eddie, "You really look seriously ill."

As he spoke, Thor turned and started toward the door, seemingly intending to make a call. Eddie hurriedly scrambled up and grabbed him. "No! Don’t go! I don’t have enough money to pay for an ambulance anymore!"

"But you look absolutely terrible." Thor turned back and pointed at Eddie’s face. "You are easily the most haggard human I’ve ever seen. Don’t you have a mirror? Haven’t you looked at yourself?"

Eddie let out a deep sigh. He slowly walked over to the sofa, brushed aside the messy clothes, and said, "You’re from Texas Hold’em, right? Sit down. I don’t have much to offer you. Bring over those two cans of beer beside the suitcase."

Thor stood where he was and looked at him. Though he did not understand Earthlings very well, he possessed basic judgment. He could tell this man was not homeless; for some unknown reason, he had fallen on hard times. Clearly, he had quite a story to tell.

Thor looked out the window. It was still early. The warehouse operated on three shifts, and it was not time for him to start work yet. Since he had nothing better to do, Thor followed Eddie’s instructions, took two cans of beer from beside his suitcase, sat down opposite the sofa, handed one to Eddie, and placed the other in front of himself.

Of course, he knew what alcohol was. While working at the warehouse, the boss provided one meal, and since Thor worked the night shift, his coworkers would invite him out for draft beer afterward.

To Thor, Earth’s alcohol was a little too weak, but it was better than nothing. So on the first day after moving into his new home, he had gone to a nearby shop and bought several bottles of beer to stock up.

Eddie opened his can without a word and took two huge gulps. Thor waved a hand at him and said, "Don’t drink like that. I can tell you don’t drink often, do you? If you chug it like that, you’re just swallowing foam. It will make you bloated, and you won’t be able to drink later."

"Later?" Eddie gave a bitter laugh. "I only have these two cans of beer. How long do you think that will last?"

"It’s fine. I have a few more bottles. I’ll bring them over later." Thor did not care in the slightest. Years of battle had forged a bold, uninhibited temperament in him. Watching his mannerisms, Eddie said, "You must be retired military, right? I can tell. You’ve been to war."

Thor raised his eyebrows. This was the first time anyone had said that to him. He told Eddie, "You’re not an ordinary person either. No one noticed my identity before."

Hearing him admit it, Eddie examined him more carefully. "Judging by your physical condition, you must have been an elite in the special forces. Which unit were you in? Why didn’t you become an instructor?"

Thor waved a hand, not intending to continue the conversation. Over the past several days, he had also discovered that bragging about his achievements on Earth would only make people think he was crazy, then cost him his job.

Deep down, Thor still did not think much of ordinary humans. Therefore, he did not need them to validate his achievements. Whenever anyone asked after that, he would merely wave them off and remain silent.

"All right, I know you have confidentiality rules, so I won’t ask." Eddie took another sip of beer. "In that case, your lips should be sealed. Maybe it won’t hurt to tell you."

"How exactly did you end up like this?"

Thor looked around the room and said, "There are quite a few valuable things in here. You must have been pretty wealthy before. How did things turn out like this?"

At the mention of it, Eddie sighed deeply again. With the alcohol loosening his tongue, he began to talk.

"What I’m about to tell you may be shocking. You might think I’m insane, but it’s the truth."

Eddie took a gulp of beer, his fingers squeezing the can tightly enough for veins to stand out on the back of his hand.

"I used to be a reporter, one of the very best. I won many awards, interviewed many famous people, and wrote quite a few well-known reports. At the height of my career, even the editor-in-chief had to watch his attitude around me."

Eddie slammed the beer can onto the coffee table with a bang and continued, "But one month ago, everything changed."

His grip on the beer can tightened further. Foam spilled from the opening, glimmering with iridescent light beneath the dim lamp. Eddie stared at that sheen, his thoughts drifting back to a month ago.

"Morning, Eddie."

"Morning. What is it? You look like you have something to say." Eddie looked at his colleague. The coworker who had greeted him came closer and lowered his voice. "The editor-in-chief is looking for you. He seems pretty angry, so you’d better be careful."

After saying that, the colleague patted him on the shoulder and left. Eddie held his documents, his camera hanging from his chest, and pushed open the glass door to the editor-in-chief’s office.

The editor-in-chief was on the phone. When he saw Eddie come in, he swept his eyes over him, then hung up and tapped the desk, signaling for Eddie to come over. "Eddie, did you see the Daily Bugle yesterday?"

"Uh, no. What happened with them?"

"Their latest newspaper sold like crazy, and so did their magazine. They published an issue reviewing New York’s oddballs. It had high-definition photos of Spider-Man and Iron Man, as well as photos of them saving people. One reporter even got to talk to Spider-Man and confirmed that Spider-Man really is just a high school student."

"Meanwhile, our last issue sold terribly. People simply aren’t interested in river construction projects."

"Eddie, I know you’re a famous reporter, but lately you’ve gone too far off course. People don’t care what project those rich bastards are starting up next. It has nothing to do with them. They just want high-definition handsome pictures of New York’s vigilantes, along with their shocking gossip…"

"I know…" The editor-in-chief extended a hand to placate Eddie. "I know this kind of news isn’t your strong suit, but we have to bow to sales. If we can’t break some major news, this season’s performance will look awful, and we may have to cut salaries."

Eddie heard the threat in the editor-in-chief’s tone. Somewhat helplessly, he said, "Didn’t we have the upper hand during the vampire incident?"

"That was months ago. In our line of work, that might as well have been centuries. We have to find a new hot topic!"

"Oh, right. You know about the Immortality Factor that’s been all the rage lately, don’t you?"

"I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know much about it."

"That’s fine. Tomorrow, I have an appointment with Drake, the boss of the Life Foundation. You’ll interview him and talk with him about the Immortality Factor."

"The Life Foundation claims they have found a better way to extract the Immortality Factor, one that works faster and produces more noticeable effects. They have also invited quite a few trial participants, and the feedback has been excellent. Drake has been incredibly popular lately."

The editor-in-chief clenched a fist and said, "We have to seize this opportunity. If this interview blows up, not only can we surpass the Daily Bugle, we might even get a chance to try that miraculous Immortality Factor treatment ourselves."

"Get moving, Eddie. Your career is about to reach new heights."