Chapter 39: San Juan

Puerto Rico.

Capital: San Juan.

This is a coastal city, its northern edge kissing the boundless sea, the whole metropolis bathed in salty, humid breezes that cool the summer heat.

In the wild countryside near the city, a flock of sheep grazed without a care in the world.

Some plump, some thin; some quick, some slow; some lazy, some beautiful, and a few radiating an air of festivity.

Suddenly, brilliant blue arcs appeared midair, weaving themselves into intricate, dazzling teleportation circles.

A cable dropped from one of the circles, dangling down like the legendary rope of immortals.

Boom!

With a thunderous crash, a large, square quantum battery box plummeted from the sky.

The sheep were dumbfounded.

What on earth was happening?

Sheep running on the ground, boxes falling from the heavens?

Before the flock could recover, a massive alloy chamber landed with a thud.

More things rained down—wires, data cables, and all manner of odd contraptions that whirred and sparked with electricity.

Finally, several people tumbled down.

A lamb blinked in astonishment:

It had heard of rain from the sky, but never people! And not just one, but a whole string of them!

Bang!

Bang, bang!

Eli landed at the bottom, with the skinny Frederic and Hugo on top of him, then the rotund Vincent, and finally the voluptuous Lucy.

Aaaaaaaah!!!

A chorus of drawn-out, miserable screams sent the sheep scattering in terror.

Not from Eli, but from Frederic and Hugo.

Eli was knocked unconscious by the impact...

Vincent shifted his weight, feeling something soft and warm beneath him—so comfortable he was reluctant to get up.

Robbie landed on his feet, knees bent, wrapped in his signature chains—tied with an expert's precision.

Old Wang appeared on the other side, drifting gently to the ground.

He reached out to catch Skye in his arms, letting out a sigh.

"This landing site seems off... Well, a margin of error is inevitable. Out of the infinite timelines of Azeroth, I just picked the most suitable one. It's not like I summoned Jaina or Medivh here in person to cast the spell. Can't expect perfection."

All in all, their luck wasn't bad.

If they had materialized several thousand meters up in the air, or deep beneath the ocean or earth, that would have been a disaster.

As for summoning Jaina or Medivh directly for help?

Medivh was out of the question; Old Wang didn't have nearly enough life force for that.

As for Jaina, the white-haired sorceress version wouldn't do.

He could barely manage to summon the Jaina from the Battle of Mount Hyjal, but the cost was immense—every second would drain him dry, and he didn't want to become the legendary "five-second man." Besides, mass teleportation was difficult, requiring great time and concentration—impossible for their purposes...

Old Wang gazed into the distance.

Sea and sky met in a single line.

Crimson clouds and lone wildfowl soared together; the autumn waters and endless sky merged in hue.

It was truly beautiful.

San Juan lay just ten miles away, not far at all.

This was an old city, founded in 1508, with a population of over six hundred thousand. To the mighty Gluttonous Empire, it was nothing—not even on par with a small county seat—but for a not-so-large island like Puerto Rico, it was impressive.

San Juan was essentially a port city, its annual import and export trade considerable, residents enjoying a high standard of living without much crowding. Such a city was perfect for retirement—though Old Wang knew he would never have that luxury.

After finally overcoming Aggramar and Argus the Unmaker, he’d hoped to return to his homeland on the Wandering Isle, plant a small stool at the door, and watch sunrises and sunsets in peace. But it was not to be; he was swept away by yet another crossing.

A protagonist is always a protagonist—when could he ever rest?

“Wang, why have we come here?” Skye wriggled free from Old Wang’s embrace, gazing at the exotic scenery in the distance, momentarily dazed, thinking it wouldn’t be so bad to spend a lifetime just watching the world with Old Wang.

But her parents were still missing...

“We need to find a place to reassemble all this equipment and let them continue their experiments.”

Looking at the mountain of gear before him, Old Wang felt a surge of satisfaction.

Jaina’s mass teleportation was truly formidable—moving a small army in one go was no problem, and he couldn’t let that effort go to waste.

He’d decided right then: the expensive devices and materials had to be taken along.

Robbie and the others had worked for several minutes, gathering everything of value they could find or dismantle.

With a flash of arcane light,

everything was teleported here.

But how would they move it all again?

If money could solve the problem, it wasn’t a problem at all.

The trouble was, they had no money...

Patting the bank card in his pocket, Old Wang turned to Robbie.

Lucy and the others had just been resurrected; they certainly had no cash. Besides, they were officially “dead”—if they suddenly showed up to report a lost card or open a new account, they’d end up having coffee at the police station, maybe even attracting the attention of S.H.I.E.L.D. or Hydra.

Eli had just gotten out of prison—and not by normal means—so he had no money either, nor could he go to the bank.

Skye’s possessions were all in her car, which was at the repair shop.

All things considered, the richest among them was actually Robbie.

There was still a thousand dollars left on the card—enough for now. But Old Wang had to think about the future, living frugally and stretching every penny.

“All right, I’ll pay you back.”

Robbie sighed and prepared to call for a rental truck.

“Don’t worry, you’ll never get your money back—not a single cent,” Old Wang said, clapping Robbie on the shoulder. Seeing the flames of ire in Robbie’s eyes, he smiled, “But I can heal your brother’s broken legs—make them as good as new, even better than before. How’s that for a deal?”

Robbie was about to transform into Ghost Rider and argue the point with Old Wang.

But at those words, he froze.

His brother was still in the hospital.

Both legs shattered in the accident.

He couldn’t afford the best hospital, the best doctors; even if he could, it wouldn’t matter.

Modern medicine couldn’t fix it.

His brother was strong, always reassuring him that it was nothing.

But Robbie had seen him weeping alone in the dark.

No one could be indifferent to losing their legs.

Robbie had all but despaired—until now, when hope finally glimmered.

Compared to his brother’s legs, what was a little money?

He hurried to make the call to rent a truck.

Two hours later, a panel van brought everyone and everything into the old district of San Juan, stopping near the northern watchtower.

Robbie then rented a cheap warehouse, generously paying for a year in advance.

All the equipment was brought inside and reassembled.

Naturally, that would take time, and Old Wang couldn’t stay forever.

San Juan held something he needed—or, more precisely, something Skye needed—which was his real reason for choosing this city.

But not yet.

There was something more important he had to obtain first.

As for now?

After so long away, it was time to return.

More pressingly, Robbie couldn’t wait any longer.

With a heavy heart, Old Wang handed Lucy the bank card and password, their living expenses for the time being, and spent 0.02 grams of Azeroth’s blood to exchange for two ordinary teleportation spells—from some poor soul, who knew where.

A flash of arcane light.

In an instant, the two of them were back in Los Angeles.