A Kryptonian in the Marvel Universe

Judley was astounded when he learned that Zod not only survived his confrontation with the Scorpion Gang but also walked away with 10 million dollars. It seemed unbelievable.

"I can't believe you pulled that off," Judley muttered, shaking his head.

Zod shrugged. "Consider it my contribution to farm expenses. You can buy some cattle for your ranch."

Judley raised an eyebrow. "Does this mean you're buying my farm?"

Zod smirked. "Not quite, but you could say that."

Judley's farm, sprawling over 1,253 acres, consisted of a mix of citrus orchards, vegetable gardens, and vast stretches of corn and soybeans. He had once considered selling it off for a mere 3 million dollars, but now it was being transformed into a ranch under Zod's guidance. The idea seemed to amuse him, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he was becoming an employee on his own land.

"BOSS, we're short on manpower," Judley said plainly.

"Then hire more people," Zod replied, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"Workers in Texas are expensive. I was thinking… maybe some Mexican laborers?"

Zod raised an eyebrow. "Undocumented?"

Judley shrugged. "This is the U.S.-Mexico border. Smuggled workers are pretty common around here."

"Then hire them," Zod said, unconcerned. He wasn't interested in the legality of it all. Texas was riddled with far worse crimes, and the local police had bigger issues to deal with.

Two days later, a large truck pulled up at the farm, delivering the first batch of Angus cattle Judley had purchased. The farm had been completely transformed—corn and soybeans cleared, the orchards tended to, and the land leveled for the new cattle ranch.

Judley had managed to buy over 100 prime Angus cattle, renowned for their quality and often served in high-end restaurants in cities like New York and Los Angeles. He set the newly hired Mexican laborers to work, massaging and caring for the cattle, hoping to turn the pasture into a thriving ranch.

Meanwhile, Zod observed the workers and their efficiency. Despite their low wages, they were diligent, hardworking, and indispensable to the ranch's operations. He, on the other hand, spent most of his time absorbing sunlight, frustrated by the slow pace of his Kryptonian development.

His progress was steady but insufficient for his ambitions. He understood that his powers were still growing and that time was the key. Still, the idea of flying high into the atmosphere to absorb more solar energy intrigued him.

The Scorpion Gang, however, wasn't finished with Zod. Losing 10 million dollars stung, and after consulting with Jin Fei, they realized Zod might be more than just a man—perhaps a super soldier or even a superhuman. Fearing they couldn't handle him on their own, they hired assassins to finish the job.

That evening, Zod basked in the faint moonlight outside the ranch. Though weaker than sunlight, the moonlight was still a form of solar energy, and he took advantage of every opportunity to strengthen himself. Mosquitoes buzzed nearby, but their bites were futile against his impenetrable skin.

Five assassins crept onto the ranch, but they didn't know Zod had already detected them with his heightened senses. The Mexican workers had already retired to their dormitories, leaving the assassins exposed.

Zod watched through his x-ray vision as the intruders, armed to the teeth, approached. Without a word, he moved at superhuman speed, knocking them out one by one before they even realized what was happening. By the time the last assassin hit the ground, none of them had managed to fire a single shot.

Dragging the unconscious men into the house, Zod tied them up for interrogation. A few well-placed punches later, and the hardened killers were spilling everything.

"We were hired to take you out," one of them admitted, barely able to meet Zod's gaze.

Zod already knew who had sent them—the Scorpion Gang. But what intrigued him more was the assassins themselves.

"How do I become a killer?" Zod asked, surprising them all.

It wasn't a question they expected to hear. Most people begged for their lives, not for career advice.

"Uh… the best way is through the Midnight Hotel," one of the assassins said cautiously. "It's part of the black list."

"The black list?" Zod echoed, unfamiliar with the term.

The assassins explained that the black list was the most notorious killer organization in the world. Unlike smaller, private groups, the black list operated on a global scale, with rumors suggesting it was backed by high-ranking officials from the five major countries. It had existed for nearly seventy years, shrouded in mystery.

And the Midnight Hotel? It was their headquarters, the place where killers registered, took on jobs, and exchanged information.

Intrigued, Zod decided it was time to explore this new avenue. After leaving a note for Judley, he had the assassins drive him to the nearest Midnight Hotel, located in Washington, D.C.

With no identification, it would have been impossible for Zod to cross state lines on his own, but the assassins had their own underworld channels. They smuggled him out of Texas, and soon, Zod was standing in front of the ominous Midnight Hotel.

The killers, still nervous around him, offered to act as his referees.

"Just… don't kill us, okay?" their leader pleaded.

Zod smiled, amused. "Lead the way."