American comics: May the Holy Light deceive you

Chapter 1: A New Story Begins

As the sun began to set, Vega piloted his private yacht back to the dock.

After mooring the boat and disembarking with his fishing box, Vega walked straight toward a beautiful white woman with a hot figure, stunning looks, and long blonde hair, who was wearing a black fitted short skirt suit, had a fishing box at her feet, and was dressed in a short distance away.

"Li, how was your day?" Monica Hilton asked, knowing that Vega was probably empty-handed again as he walked toward her.

"This is terrible," Vega said, walking up to Monica and hugging her. He then bent down to open the fishing box at Monica's feet, transferring the fish inside to his own box as he complained, "As soon as I got to the open sea, I was harassed by two killer whales. They followed me all day, and I haven't caught a single fish because of them."

Monica covered her mouth and chuckled: "Hehe~, they probably mistook you for their leader."

Monica is the manager of the nearby Hilton resort hotel. She is very busy with work, but the reason she always delivers the fish in person is because she wants to know as soon as possible what excuse Vega will use to justify his failure to catch fish.

"Really? I was wondering why it kept following me." Vega wasn't embarrassed at all. After loading the fish, he straightened up and handed the yacht keys to Monica: "Help me clean and inspect the yacht. I have an appointment with George tomorrow."

Monica: "No problem. Are there just the two of you? Where are you going? Do you need me to prepare some food for you?"

"And Bana and Gwen, let's go sailing." At this point, Vega hesitated, thinking about his and George's situation, before continuing, "Let's prepare some food, just in case something unexpected happens, so we won't go hungry."

Monica: "Okay, I hope you have fun."

The two walked together toward the hotel. On the way, Monica continued, "The auction for tomorrow night is all set. All the clients have confirmed their attendance, and some have already arrived. Some of them want to do business with you privately beforehand."

Vega: "Still cash, stocks, gold, antiques, and stuff like that?"

Monica: "Yes, but I think you should be interested in a metal shield from ancient Egypt that's over 5,000 years old. The client said it's amazing."

Vega frowned: "Are there Egyptians among the auction's clients?"

Monica: "The shield was brought by the Scotland Yard men."

Vega nodded in realization: "That makes sense. I'll see him after the auction tomorrow. I'm not in the mood today."

Monica: "Hehe, I'll let them know. Lee, is the auction really going to be suspended for two months? A lot of people have been asking me this question these days."

Vega: "I have very important things to do next, and I don't have time to prepare the auction items."

Ignore them. If anyone can't accept it, tell me, and I'll go talk to them personally.

Monica: "I don't think that will happen."

The two returned to the hotel together, took a relaxing hot bath that took a lot of energy, and had dinner with Monica before Vega drove home.

Vega's home is a three-story house on 42nd Street in Midtown West.

Half of the building was used to operate a paranormal investigation firm and for the owner's own residence, while the other half was rented out to operate a law firm.

It was past 8 p.m. when he got home. Surprisingly, the law firm next door still had its lights on. Seeing this, Vega picked up his fishing box, pushed open the door, and went inside.

The first floor is a reception room and a rest area. At the reception desk sat a white man in his twenties with short black hair, wearing black sunglasses, a suit and tie, and looking down at documents.

Vega walked over and asked, "Matt, why are you still working so late?"

"I've been waiting for you," Matt said, putting down the documents, opening a drawer, taking out a wad of US dollars, and walking towards Vega. "This is the rent for the two months in arrears and the next three months."

"Wow, you've struck it rich?" Vega asked in surprise, putting down his fishing box and taking the money to count it.

Matt: "Fisker lost the case."

"Huh?" Vega, who was happily counting his money, looked up at Matt in surprise. "That workplace injury case? Kingpin paid the compensation and your lawyer's fees?"

Matt nodded: "Yes."

Vega: "Hiss~, did the zombies eat Kingpin's brain? He's actually obeying the court's verdict?"

Matt: "Kingpin's public identity is that of a law-abiding capitalist and philanthropist, so of course he has to abide by the court's ruling."

"But he's still the underground emperor of New York," Vega said, feigning panic as he looked at the wad of cash in his hand. "This isn't your money for risking your life, is it? I don't think Kingpin would really suffer such a loss."

Matt didn't care: "King won't come after me anytime soon, and that would be bad for him in terms of public opinion."

Even if Kingpin wanted to get rid of him, he wasn't afraid; he was Daredevil.

Vega shrugged: "Okay, I hope you don't smash up my house, or I'll really lose it."

Vega was just saying it casually. 42nd Street is special; even Kingpin built his corporate headquarters there. He wouldn't cause trouble there.

"I went fishing at sea today. I saved a few salmon, so I'll save two for you for a midnight snack. I also got some abalone. Would you like to come for a drink?" Vega said, opening his fishing box and handing Matt two salmon.

"Thank you, no need, I'm going out in a bit." Matt took the fish and put it in the kitchen on the second floor. The two chatted for a while longer before Vega said goodbye and left.

"Teacher, you're back." She pushed open the door of the paranormal investigation office, and the fishing box was taken by her disciple, a tall, aloof, red-haired girl named Bana Thurman, who had been waiting for her.

"Thank you. Could you steam those abalone in the fishing box with some minced garlic? There are also four salmon in there. You can cook them yourself if you want." Vega nodded his thanks to Bana and then gave the instructions.

"I understand." Bana carried the fishing box to the kitchen on the second floor. Vega locked the office door, turned off the lights, and went upstairs as well.

Upon arriving at the second-floor restaurant, he poured himself a glass of medicinal wine infused with various nourishing herbs, sat down at the table, and asked Bana, who was busy in the kitchen, "Do you have any requests this afternoon?"

Bana: "There was a request, but it was a farce."

"The client said that when he lay down on the bed, evil spirits would blow cold winds on him. I checked and found that the wooden planks of the roof were cracked."

"Teacher, when are we going back to Texas? New York has the Kamar-Taj Temple, there aren't many evil spirits or demons that dare to come here."

"Hehe, don't worry, New York will be bustling soon." Vega picked up his glass and took a sip, his right hand resting on the bronze armlet on his left arm, which was engraved with many mysterious runes, as he fell into memories.