Marvel: The Sorcerer in America

Lance paused for a moment, thinking. "I'll be a bother, but please let me know if there's any further news."

Lance knew that, despite the urgency of the situation, he had to return and dig deeper into the South Front's activities.

Lance was not the type of person to take a blow without retaliation. Even large organizations, whether overt or hidden, had to be cautious if they dared to interfere with Lance. Especially the gangsters who were too confident in their abilities—they would soon learn that messing with Lance was a big mistake.

...

...

...

"The situation... well, worse than I expected." Seeing the shabby shop, Lance's expression remained calm.

The once elegant street-side shop now looked as though it had been trampled by a bison. The front door appeared to have been shot at, leaving scattered bullet holes in no particular order. Most of the glass, both inside and outside, was shattered into pieces. The legs of the custom-made recliner were also broken, reduced to a pile of wooden shards.

Fortunately, the items on the counter were mostly still in good condition.

The so-called "commodities" that Lance sold here were all related to the occult. There were regular crosses, holy scriptures, and silver tableware common in the Western regions, as well as jade Buddha statues, conch collars, rosary beads, Sanqing bells, energy rulers, energy seals, and much more.

All of these had been crafted by Lance during his practice of talismanic arts. Regardless of the sect or organization the magical items originated from, Lance had carved exorcism talismans into them, so these otherwise ordinary objects contained a certain amount of mana energy. Without that, these small items might have already been shattered into pieces by the troublemakers who had damaged Lance's shop.

By the way, Lance had purchased insurance for this small shop, so it wouldn't cost much to rebuild it. But... damn it, after Lance had to flee the whole shop from the angry fanatics, now the place was being ruined by a gang of thugs. How could this be tolerated?

Seeing Lance's seemingly 'calm' appearance, Nolan, who had a sincere nature, felt increasingly embarrassed.

Nolan then cleared his throat and said, "Mr. White, we've deployed all the police in New York to clear the Southern Front property. The people who vandalized your shop have been arrested, and we will certainly provide you with an explanation."

Lance smiled meaningfully. "I look forward to it."

In a country where capital runs rampant, those with money can do whatever they want. The Southern Front was extremely wealthy and had powerful backing; otherwise, how could they have the audacity to openly confront the police?

With the outrageous actions of those people, the police might add some obstacles for the Southern Front, but fundamentally, it was impossible to completely remove their influence.

Nolan clearly understood this. He then wiped his forehead with guilt and pointed to the mess of the shop. "Uh... do you need my help? Cleaning up this entire mess isn't an easy task."

"NO NEED." Lance glanced around, seeing the scattered piles of fabric, then Lance pursed his lips. "It's too damaged, so it's better to renovate and tidy up. Just leave the cleaning work to the decoration team... Oh, you can help me pack these items for sale."

Lance then pulled a box from under the broken table and began putting small magical weapons buried under the glass shards into it.

Seeing this, Nolan decided to help out. However, as he picked up a silver cross, a look of surprise immediately appeared on his face. "Wow, is this cross blessed by Saint Peter? You actually priced this at two hundred thousand dollars? Oh, and this, this... wow, none of these are priced below ten thousand dollars."

Lance smiled as he replied, "These things aren't blessed by Saint Peter, but they have been blessed by me and have remarkable powers to exorcise evil spirits. One day, if you encounter a demon from hell, these items might save your life. Oh, would you like to consider buying one?"

Nolan twitched the corner of his mouth, half-laughing. "Buddy, I'm just a lowly cop. My annual salary is only 40,000 dollars, and I don't think I can afford your merchandise. You'd better go find one of those rich folks to scam!"

Lance merely smiled and said little, letting the conversation pass by without further comment.

After placing several magical weapons into the box, Lance bid farewell to Nolan and escorted Brynhildr home.

Lance's residence was located in Brooklyn, specifically in Bensonhurst, known as "Little Italy."

Bensonhurst could be considered one of the busiest neighborhoods in Brooklyn. 86th Street stretched from east to west, between 18th and 23rd Avenues, separated by five small streets named after the bays in the area. Every day, this district was filled with bustling crowds.

About a third of Benson's population was of Italian descent, but the area was managed by a multi-ethnic community full of exotic flavors. Here, there were supermarkets, restaurants, and bakeries and tea shops with a Hong Kong vibe. Though smaller in scale compared to Chinatown, it still provided great comfort for the Chinese people living nearby. Lance's new house was located at the edge of this area.

The villa was built in the early 20th century. Despite having gone through ups and downs for hundreds of years, it was still in excellent condition. Although it shared walls with neighbors on both the left and right, the house was a single-family home with a porch, garage, and a 80-square-meter garden.

While Brooklyn was not considered a wealthy area and land in Long Island and Manhattan was far more valuable, the total value of this historic villa exceeded 2 million USD. Each year, Lance had to pay a considerable property tax. If it weren't for Vivi often requesting Lance's help and giving him tasks to manage the business, Lance might not have been able to afford living in such a place.

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