American comics: You're asked to fish, but you catch a Superman template?

Page 1381

Chapter 1714 Cooperation

The damp, dense fog severely limited visibility, making it difficult to estimate the exact number of cultists suddenly emerging from it. However, Helena, Cisco, and Deathstroke, positioned at the center of the circle as the targets of the siege, didn't need excellent eyesight to realize that the enemy outnumbered them at least ten to one.

But sometimes, quantity doesn't tell the whole story.

For this group of Order followers who relied entirely on reckless recklessness, they had chosen the wrong opponent this time. Any one of the three people they were facing could kill them all by themselves, let alone gang up on them all at once. Faced with the overwhelming number of cultists, Helena and Deathstroke exchanged glances, then tacitly set aside their differences and charged one by one into the dark mass of people.

A thick fog blanketed the entire island, and the limited visibility served as a natural smokescreen for the group, greatly facilitating their battle. This also prevented the "Order" members from using firearms, fearing that "047" might accidentally injure their comrades, forcing them to wield primitive melee weapons on the battlefield. This undoubtedly hastened the end of the battle.

Deathstroke was a living killing machine, enveloped in the cold glint of swords and the blinding flash of pistols, practically darting through the crowd. None of these cult leaders were his match. Helena twisted her arm; it would be a lie to say it didn't affect her movements, but dealing with these small fry wasn't difficult. She combined the items on her belt with her superior combat skills: darts, electric shocks, speed gel, micro-explosives—a variety of methods, only slightly less effective than Deathstroke's.

Although Cisco lacked combat experience and struggled against the most formidable enemies, his superpowers were still sufficient to deal with ordinary terrorists. He stretched out his hand, and a visible wave emanated from his palm, violently churning the air and drawing out countless water droplets suspended in space. These droplets spiraled onto the ripples above, and white vortexes crashed into the cultists, shattering them into pieces.

Three minutes later, only three people remained standing on the field. If there was anything different from before, it was that the extra cannon fodder scattered on the ground were either unconscious or dead.

"Ha, easy." Sisco grinned and extended his hand to Elena: "High five?"

With no one paying attention to him, Deathstroke and Huntress, having finished their fight, found themselves face to face again, and the atmosphere tensed once more. Cisco looked left and right, finally cautiously shifting half his body behind Huntress as the next shockwave boiled in his palm. He tried to appear calm, but when his gaze met Deathstroke's single eye, his body trembled uncontrollably.

“Deathstroke, what do you want?” Helena looked up and asked, “Why did you come to this island?”

"Miss, I'm a mercenary. Why do you think mercenaries should uphold justice?" Deathstroke coldly retorted.

Helena frowned. "Let me ask you again... Who is your employer? What does he want?"

“Some governments are willing to pay a hefty price. Which government? Sorry, that's a trade secret.” Deathstroke said, casting a sharp glance at the two men with one eye. “As for… the purpose, although I can't reveal it according to the confidentiality agreement, I think we've reached an agreement on this point?”

Helena froze, her mind racing. Their mission was simply to rescue Dr. Ray Isaac, but the mission description only mentioned a "top-secret project" as the reason this MIT graduate had come to the island, without mentioning him personally. If Deathstroke wasn't lying, if he was indeed hired by another government to investigate or retrieve something worthy of the most expensive mercenaries, could Dr. Isaac also be there for the same purpose?

“Perhaps you don’t even know why you’re here?” Deathstroke chuckled softly. “No wonder, it sounds a lot like the American government. But whatever your purpose, I believe it coincides with my next destination. So, we either burn each other’s remaining stamina, ammunition, and equipment here, and then wait for those idiots from Order to reap the rewards… or we can cooperate for now, what do you think, little bat?”

Partner with Deathstroke? Partner with the most dangerous mercenaries and assassins? Helena frowned, hesitant.

To be honest, Cisco's mission hasn't been going well so far. The original plan was simply to pick up Dr. Isaac from the hotel, return to the plane, and leave the island, but now his plans have veered completely off course. Non-human creatures have inexplicably appeared on the island, there's interference from a cult called "The Order," and then there's the suicide bomber sent by an unknown government... The situation on the island is like the thick fog that now blankets the surrounding area—a vast expanse of white.

If Deathstroke possesses a more reliable plan and more information about the situation on the island, and undoubtedly has first-rate physical fitness and tactical acumen, then they undoubtedly have an ally that they currently desperately need.

She clenched her fist slightly. In this situation, what would Batman do?

Ten seconds later, she said in a deep voice, "Okay, but on one condition... no killing."

“Sorry, I can’t guarantee that.” Deathstroke clasped his hands together and shrugged. “But if it’s not necessary, I can restrain myself. When it comes to fighting, swords and spears don’t have eyes.”

Helena frowned slightly, but remained silent.

“Then it’s settled,” Deathstroke sheathed his sword and pistol. “But before we go, put your hands back where they belong, girl. We’ll be heading straight up the mountain soon, and we might be facing some supernatural things. I don’t want to go into battle with a one-armed warrior.”

metropolis

The agent pushed open the door to the white-haired official's office and almost rudely threw a dark blue folder onto the supervisor's desk.

“Fourteen members of the Order have been apprehended, including senior employees and Mr. Grinton Marcus himself. And, according to their consistent statements, these are all gifts prepared for us by Green Lantern.” The agent looked directly into the gray-haired officer’s eyes, leaning back in his chair at the desk. “Furthermore, Grinton Marcus’s testimony proves that the child is innocent. He knew nothing about his father’s involvement in the cult; he was simply an innocent victim of the explosion.” He paused, his voice growing colder. “And you, sir, insist on torturing an innocent citizen… I’m afraid you should prepare yourself.”

The white-haired police officer sneered: "I only do what's necessary. Every decision I make is for the safety of the public. He's just a kid fresh out of college. What do I have to be afraid of?"

The white-haired official's expression changed, his lips tightening slightly, as if he were somewhat frightened. And at this inopportune moment, the "little ghost" they had been talking about appeared in the room.

"Hello? Gentlemen?" Mike appeared at the door, enveloped in green light, and waved hesitantly.

The white-haired official's face turned pale instantly. He hurriedly reached for the pistol in his desk drawer, and even the agent's right hand instinctively gripped the holster on his belt, afraid that the boy would break free.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Mike raised his hands, extinguishing the glow of his aura. “I’m here to help.”

"Need any help?" the agent asked, raising an eyebrow with a hint of skepticism.

“Yes,” Mike confirmed, “You’re going to deal with those bastards called the Knights? Then take me into consideration.”

Chapter 1715 Agent Green Light

After leaving the white-haired police officer's office, Mike had been sitting in the passenger seat of the black sedan for over an hour. The black-clad agent who had interrogated him earlier was in the driver's seat. The long drive made Mike drowsy. For the first twenty minutes, he asked almost every three minutes how much time they had left. After twenty minutes, he finally stopped his relentless questioning and simply leaned against the car window, drooling.

The agent gave him a lewd glance, and deep down, he couldn't help but admire the guy immensely. Think about it: in such a short time, this guy had first experienced a terrorist attack, then been detained and interrogated as a suspect, even being electrocuted, then a green light ring appeared at his doorstep, and a member of a twisted cult wanted to kill his father… It all sounded explosive, enough for a college student who had only attended one semester to process and adapt to in a few months. He thought it was normal for Mike to be exhibiting a range of emotions like frustration, annoyance, anger, disappointment, and sadness, but one thing that absolutely couldn't be called a normal reaction was him snoring against the car window like this.

Could it be that this child's mental abilities are extraordinary, or has he simply fallen into an unheard-of realm? Thinking this, the agent couldn't help but envy the child. He suddenly began to understand why the Green Ring had chosen this particularly unremarkable child.

After another ten minutes, the car finally stopped. The agent turned off the engine and shook the snoring child in the next seat: "Hey, wake up."

Mike opened his eyes in confusion, then widened them in excitement: "Huh? We're here?"

"We've arrived," the agent said, opening the door. "Come out."

Mike got out of the car, and a tall building with white brick facade came into view. The building had a peculiar shape, like a giant beast crouching on the ground, with a glass curtain wall around the perimeter, letting in white light. The entrance was on the left side of the building, with towering white columns and transparent glass extending along the curved surfaces of the columns to the roof. Two parallel elevators went up and down behind the curtain wall.

“This place is so cool!” Mike exclaimed, following his agent into the elevator. “It’s like in the movies…you know how the main villains in movies like to use this kind of cool technology to build their bases?”

The agent's face twitched, but he said nothing.

They took the elevator to the top floor and walked out into a circular corridor paved with marble tiles, the smooth floor reflecting the bright, mirror-like light of the incandescent bulbs. Mike remained enthusiastic, greeting every agent he encountered in the corridor, drawing countless suspicious glances. He even struck up a conversation with a young female technician in the elevator, but was stopped by an agent giving him directions before things escalated.

Mike seemed completely unfazed by his first visit to a secret government office, leading the agents to the impression that he was showing off his workplace to the family of a high-ranking official. This guy was like a fire, not only burning intensely but also infecting everyone around him. Perhaps there was a reason the Green Light Ring chose him; perhaps most people were simply lucky, because he was the one wielding the dangerous weapon.

“Speaking of which, I don’t think I know your name yet,” Mike suddenly asked as he stepped out of the elevator.

"It doesn't matter"

"Come on, we're already so familiar with each other, I can't keep calling you 'Uncle in a Suit' all the time, can I?"

The agent's face twitched again, and he replied helplessly, "Fedal...you can call me Agent Feda."

Mike paused for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter, as if he had heard a joke that was both funny and hilarious.

“Ha, Agent Fed!” he joked. “Were you born to be a secret agent, so you got this name?” (Fed is also a slang term for secret agents).

Agent Fede ignored him, but his expression was grim: clearly, he had expected this reaction.

They stopped in front of the office on the top floor. Agent Fede stepped aside: "My superior said he wants to see you in person, so I had you brought here."

"Sir, what kind of person is he? Could he be a demon?"

First, it's "she," not "he." Also, ..., you have to find out for yourself.

The electronic lock on the door was already open, and Mike squeezed through the crack and went inside. It was a spacious and open office, brightly lit by high-powered light bulbs. Metal filing cabinets stood against the wall, their doors locked with electronic locks, presumably containing highly confidential documents. At the base of the wall were potted plants that Mike couldn't name, their leaves lush and healthy.

The so-called "commander" sat in a swivel chair on the table, his back to the door. There was another empty chair on the other side of the table. Mike assumed this was for training purposes, so he sat down gracefully.

“Hello, ma’am?” he tried to get her attention and let her know he had come in.

“Please make yourself at home.” Amanda Waller turned her voluptuous body toward the swivel chair, and frowned slightly in annoyance when she found the rude brat sitting as comfortably as if he were in his own home.

Her displeasure reached its peak when Mike said the following. Mike let out an "Ah," then said smugly, "Sorry, I just didn't expect you to look so..."

Waller's face turned a deep black, though she still looked the same as always.

“I’ve heard the report about you from my men,” Waller quickly regained his composure, speaking in a cold tone. “The report says you contacted someone and asked for cooperation…why?”

"Why?" Mike scratched his head, his eyebrows furrowing. "Even if you ask that... then... because you look like heroes?"

Waller remained unmoved, her eyes merely narrowing slightly, making it even harder to see through her already small eyes hidden beneath her thick stubble.

Seeing her dismissive expression, Mike continued, “I was born in Seaside City, a kid who grew up watching Green Lantern fly. I’ve always dreamed of becoming a superhero like him. Now this ring 047 has given me a chance, and I want to use it to do the right thing, just like Green Lantern did.” He paused, “I know you’re fighting an organization called the Knights, and I want to do my part.”

Waller remained silent, staring at him for a long time until she felt uneasy. Then she spoke, "No, it's not just that."

"what?"

“You’re not as superficial as you seem,” Waller said coldly. “You’re very good at pretending, and perhaps you’re even using that excuse to deceive yourself, but I’m not. I’ve seen countless people in my life; it’s my specialty. Even though you’re good at hiding it, I can still see it in your eyes—that most primal, purest impulse, that which truly drives you…”

Mike frowned slightly, but did not answer.

"...Now that you want revenge, you must use our intelligence and resources."

After Waller finished speaking, there was a few seconds of silence in the office. Mike didn't refute him; Waller deliberately gave him enough time to think and process what he had said.

Then her tone shifted, and she continued, "But don't be nervous, I'm not saying this is a bad thing, I just need to ascertain your motives." She leaned back in her chair. "I'll grant you access to all information about the Knights, and I'll be investigating as well, but don't expect your own desk. Besides that... Welcome, Agent Marcus. You are now officially a field agent for the Bureau of Paranormal Operations."

Chapter 1716 Earthquake

Around noon, a few gray clouds drifted across Petwa, and the sun peeked out from behind them. A cool breeze swept through the city streets; there was neither scorching sun nor heavy rain, and the temperature was just right for travel.

The Reynolds family spent half the morning in the town's specialty food street, overjoyed as if they had discovered a new continent: they devoured pasta, fried food, and local delicacies. They split into several groups and began running through the shops, and within minutes, each of them was carrying several bags of food from different stores.

While waiting for Mrs. Reynolds to join the queue at the seafood snack shop, Mr. Reynolds, busy chewing his food, finally found a moment to chat with his son, remarking on what a wonderful place it was and how it was a pity the girl couldn't come.

Xu Fu realized he was referring to Carla, shrugged helplessly, and said she was simply too busy, especially before the holidays, and couldn't get out at all. Mr. Reynolds understood what he meant, saying that after all, she was the assistant to the legendary Kate Grant, so it was easy to imagine how difficult it was.

He then asked how their relationship was going, and Xu Fu replied somewhat awkwardly that it was alright. Mr. Reynolds, however, shook his head and, in the tone of a seasoned lover, lectured him, saying that he also needed to understand relationships. As couples get used to each other, many details can reflect the progress of a relationship from different angles. Take eating, for example. When you eat together, have you paid attention to her eating habits?

Xu Fu shook his head and said no. Mr. Reynolds was overjoyed. He said, "When your mother and I were dating, she would always eat only a small portion of pasta and then pretend she was full. I really fooled her. It wasn't until we were together for a while that I realized that even a whole portion wouldn't be enough for her, let alone a small portion for two people."

George said, "Holy crap, there really is such a surgery." He started trying to recall, and it seemed he really remembered that when Kara was with him, she always acted like someone with a very small appetite. He hadn't really thought about this before; Kryptonians didn't need to eat to fill their stomachs, and that didn't affect their physique. So, there was only one explanation for Kara's meticulous attention to her diet when she was with him: she wanted to present Xu Fu with a more feminine image.

Mr. Reynolds, seeing the smug look on his face, patted him on the shoulder with even more pride and said, "Whether it's over the top or not, girls will always share many things, especially when they're in a relationship. And your mom too..."

Xu Fu wanted to hear the rest of his father's story, but unfortunately, a sense of oppression interrupted him. Mrs. Reynolds appeared behind his father like a ghost and asked what had happened. Mr. Reynolds' expression changed slightly, but his composure and responsiveness were excellent. He continued calmly, "Your mother is also an absolute beauty. I can face the blessings she has given to countless lives."

Xu Fu smiled wryly, realizing that what his father wanted to say was completely different from this, but he did admire his father's ability to adapt to changing circumstances. After working at the Daily Planet for so many years, he didn't seem to have missed out on any special skills.

Xu Fu leisurely took a bite of the local specialty burrito, smiling as he watched the Reynolds' daily quarrel. But just then, a discordant sound wave suddenly entered his ears, as if it came from the depths of the earth.

Xu Fu's expression changed slightly, and he pricked up his ears to listen carefully. To him, it seemed as if a violent sound was coming from deep underground, like water boiling in a kettle. People were still coming and going on the street, and no one noticed the faint sound waves, but to Xu Fu's ears, the sound was as loud as a war drum.

However, soon others also noticed the anomaly, only in a more intense form. The earth suddenly trembled, and everything around began to shake violently. The earth, like a wild beast awakening from its slumber, shook violently, trying to shake off everything.