Rick and Morty: My Grandfather is Rick?

When reporters arrived to take photos, the three people insisted on having one on each side and another in front of them, half-squatting and striking a pose.

It was only at this point that they were willing to hand the criminal over to the NYPD (New York Police Department), who were already fed up with him.

"This is just too... too much of a concern for fame... They always have to take a picture every time they do something heroic..."

Seeing this obviously overly utilitarian approach, Morty couldn't help but complain.

To his surprise, the blonde woman standing next to him actually lived up to the customs of New York City residents, daring to chat with anyone, anywhere, anytime.

"What if they don't care about fame? The heroes above have already achieved numerous victories and don't need to rely on taking photos to gain fame. Now, those who come from behind, unless they encounter some particularly formidable enemy, have no choice but to rely on this to accumulate fame?"

Morty glanced at the blonde woman with delicate features and an outgoing personality, and asked, "Doesn't this go against our original intention of fighting crime and protecting the innocent?"

Seemingly having heard something unbelievable, the blonde looked at Morty, who was two heads shorter than her, with surprise and frustration. "Um...where are you from? Where are your parents?"

"Colorado, what's your opinion?"

Upon hearing that Morty was from Colorado, the blonde girl let out an "oh," her eyes carrying a hint of city dweller's superiority over someone from a poor, remote area.

"It seems that information doesn't circulate very well in your area."

"Come, come, let me talk to you properly. What exactly happened? If you go back to your hometown... cough cough! You'll have something to tell them, instead of just talking about Times Square, the Statue of Liberty, and things from western Zhejiang."

With the blonde's explanation, Morty gradually understood what kind of Marvel world he had entered.

First of all, this is Marvel's New York, no doubt.

But unlike any movie or comic book...

The development here is more in line with the thinking logic of modern society.

First of all, the superheroes here are more like human beings than saints. They all have to pay rent, utilities, internet fees, and eat and drink.

You should know that things aren't cheap in New York!

Going out to fight criminals every day without making any money—a group of pure idealists might be able to persevere, but what about those superheroes who are deeply inspired to join this profession but are forced by the need to make a living?

This has spurred a new industry centered around superheroes, attracting astute venture capital firms and entrepreneurs eager to create wealth.

Superhero Company!

Chapter 213 in New York

"Damn... did I wander onto the wrong set?... Superhero Company, this is more like The Boys..."

As soon as I left the airport, I headed straight for Chinatown in New York. Along the way, I passed several battlefields of various superheroes and supervillains, braving gunfire and bullets, and finally arrived at Morty's place for a bowl of hot dry noodles.

After finishing his first bowl, while waiting for his second, Morty put down his chopsticks and began to complain about just how absurd this Marvel parallel universe was.

Rice, oil, and salt?

That's not superhero-like at all!

Superheroes should not eat, drink, or use the toilet; they should not have private time; they should be around 24 hours a day; and if they see someone committing a crime, they should drop everything to stop the evil!

Otherwise, how could they be called superheroes!

After criticizing one of the biggest flaws in American superheroes, Morty slowly pulled out a pack of cigarettes, preparing to light one.

But the surprised looks from those around him made him feel that, given his age, lighting a cigarette here was not a wise choice.

But I don't care!

After lighting a cigarette, Morty took a drag and exhaled. When it was time for his second bowl, he held the cigarette in one hand and used the other to eat the steaming hot dry noodles in front of him.

The boss, who should have gone back to his work, sat down opposite Morty instead.

"Young man, is it really appropriate for you to have a cigarette lit up like that?"

"I want you to take care of it?"

"..."

He retorted with a blunt remark, and seeing Morty's attitude of "don't mess with him," the boss didn't cause any more trouble. He simply stood up and went back to his work.

After finishing all three bowls of hot dry noodles, Morty paid and walked out of the store, where he ran into Sangmei, who was returning home with a full load of food.

The money she earned from that previous live stream made Sangmei almost a millionaire.

This meant that almost all the expenses incurred by the siblings during their trip from the Ancient One to New York were paid by Sang Mei.

But once in bustling New York, Sammy, who had barely spent any money in that godforsaken place of Coronado, finally found a good place to spend it.

Here, any service you want to pay for, and you'll always have someone to provide it.

After getting her hair done and changing her clothes, Sangmei, whose demeanor was completely different from before, got a red Ferrari and stood on the roadside waving at Morti.

Those men who were itching to rush over and shout "Rich woman, please take care of me!" actually got into the car when they saw little Morty.

Everyone immediately lost their spirits.

She's already taken...

She likes young, fresh-faced boys; no matter how handsome we older men are, we can't satisfy her unique tastes...

Well, if Morty knew what these people were thinking, it would be really strange if he didn't do some Avengers action in New York today.

Although my brother and I have different face shapes, we are still siblings! Siblings!

Jesus!

"Where do we go next?" Sangmei asked with a smile as she started the car.

"This is New York, you'll never be bored, we can find anything fun to do anywhere!"

Morty took out his phone, randomly tapped on the map, found a disco that was open during the day, and then had Sangmei drive there according to the navigation.

When the car stopped in front of the disco, Morty, who had been pondering how he should have fun in New York while Jerry and the Ancient One had been tormenting each other, realized that they seemed to have arrived at a pretty amazing place.

Hell's Kitchen!

"Hey kid, nice car!"

A black man, 1.92 meters tall and with a muscular build, was holding a silver metal baseball bat and had a 'you better be smart' look on his face.

Morty: "No way, he actually wants to rob me?"

Sangmei: "Sigh, does he even know what kind of world he lives in?"

The siblings looked at this idiot, who was somewhat mentally unstable and thought he was living in a normal world, not the Marvel Universe, with the eyes of someone looking at a complete moron.

You're saying that the number of superheroes in your universe has exploded, covering almost all age groups and genders, from the oldest to the youngest.

Why are you so confident that you can easily rob someone who drives a Ferrari?

Or is it that in any normal world, people with some assets live in a vacuum?

Have you ever seen anyone who can afford this kind of car by working a regular job?

No one's enormous wealth is accumulated bit by bit from a monthly salary of a few thousand dollars; only by making money work for them can the amount of money increase.

And this process is where everyone shows their unique abilities.

But this black guy dared to rob...

You think this is Gotham City, right?

Bruce Wayne's parents went to see a movie without any bodyguards!

"Okay, give me the car keys, let's make things peaceful..."

Before the black man could finish his nonsense, Morty waved his hand, and Khorne, the tool of the man, jumped out and tore the man apart on the spot.

Incidentally, Morty also released Tzeentch.

As soon as this guy came out, he blamed Morty for not letting her out for so long.

"What can I do? I finally have some free time, and now I have to stay in combat mode? Isn't that exhausting?"

By releasing Tzeentch and the others, Morty needs to constantly expend his mental energy, although this amount is negligible for Morty outside of combat.

But he's lazy...

That's just how lazy people are.

"Alright, alright, I've let you out now, haven't I?"

"Ha! I want compensation! I want the best compensation! Last time I helped you deal with Grandpa, he almost left a psychological scar on me!"

When Tzeentch mentioned his grandfather, Morty's mood inevitably soured a little.

However, on the other hand, anyone who gets into a fight with Grandpa will indeed suffer from inner trauma, especially in terms of judgment, and will face the greatest challenge of their life.

The original body that can never be found...

Or you might think it's a mannequin, but it turns out to be a real person...

Or perhaps he simply ran away, leaving you stuck in the same place, paranoid and struggling with your own thoughts for ages...

"Alright, whatever you want to play, let's have some fun today!"

"Music! Dance! And a whole bunch of handsome guys!!!"

"Handsome guys won't do. You're my subconscious, and I don't want my subconscious to be tainted by a bunch of handsome guys, so that's out of the question."

Despite being cruelly rejected by the handsome man, Tzeentch did not give up, but instead lowered her expectations.

For example, changing from close-up viewing to distant observation.

"I'll watch handsome guys dance, and you can watch beautiful girls dance, okay?"

"Forehead..."

"If you don't agree to this, then don't expect me to show up next time we're going to fight. Even if I do, I won't put in any real effort."

"Alright..."

"Then I'll pick one myself. That guy over there with the mask looks pretty good. I want to see him do a pole dance for me tonight."

Morty looked in the direction Tzeentch was pointing and saw a masked man holding a steel shield...

"Jesus...you made Captain America do this?"

Let's talk about it in Chapter 214.