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

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The two agents stared at him expressionlessly, offering no reply.

"Do you know how ridiculous this sounds? Guys, look at me, I'm a college student, right across the street! How do I look like a terrorist?"

“This doesn’t even look like a bomber, sir,” the agent said. “We’re not sure you’re the bomber either. It’s just based on the evidence we have so far. We’re conducting an important part of our investigation. So please cooperate. Otherwise, we will take even harsher measures.”

Mike was exasperated, but as he turned around, he suddenly remembered: "Oh right, that's my dad's car. Have you talked to him about it?"

“We’re here to find Mr. Marcus, of course, but there’s another problem,” the agent said with a low sigh. “Your father, Mr. Marcus, has disappeared. Nobody knows where he is.”

Mike froze instantly.

This was the first time in his life that he truly felt there was no hope left.

Chapter 1703 Tickets

Mrs. Reynolds had arranged her trip to Petava many days in advance, poring over several travel guides and researching everything in detail, as if she were writing a report, and she was extremely excited. However, it's not surprising that all three of them were full of anticipation for this trip, as it was the first time they had traveled together since Xu Fu joined the family more than six years ago.

Mrs. Reynolds went shopping early in the morning, until she had filled Mr. Reynolds' suitcase to the brim. She had been looking forward to Xu Fu's return home for vacation, but it wasn't until two days before the trip that the family realized a problem that should have been addressed long ago, but perhaps it was too late.

There are no tickets left.

All tickets to Petawa for the next two days were sold out, and tickets to this little-known country were unexpectedly in high demand. It was a blunder that shouldn't have been made, but they didn't notice the problem until it was too late.

Mrs. Reynolds complained about Mr. Reynolds as usual, since he was the only one in the family of three who traveled by plane, and he had every reason to blame her. However, Mr. Reynolds insisted that the newspapers never addressed the common problems with business class tickets, and he had almost never bothered with them. The couple then resumed their usual marital squabbles, but this seemed to do nothing to resolve the issue.

Xu Fu interjected helplessly, "I might have a way." The Reynolds immediately stopped arguing and both looked at him with surprise.

Xu Fu took out his phone and dialed Helena's number. She was a government agent; in movies and TV shows, agents always had a dozen passports and a bunch of different identification documents, and could always order train and plane tickets instantly. Who would have thought? Of course, the tickets online were sold out, but maybe Helena could get him a seat in the vice president's private car.

"What do you want?" he asked in a somewhat incredulous tone after Helena explained her purpose over the phone.

“Tickets, three tickets to Petawa.” Xu Fu rubbed the bridge of his nose. “My parents and I are planning a trip, but we only found out the tickets were sold out when we were about to leave. So I was wondering if you could help me out.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. An ordinary person wouldn't be able to tell anything, but Xu Fu, with his keen hearing, could clearly hear Helena's breathing on the other end of the line, which seemed to be getting heavier and heavier, as if she was so angry that she couldn't speak.

“Do you know why I gave you this number?” Helena said humorously.

"Promote exchanges?" Xu Fu asked cautiously.

“This is the number you can contact in an emergency, okay?” Helena raised her voice, and Xu Fu could almost imagine how angry she was. “By emergency, I mean you’ve discovered an alien spaceship entering the atmosphere, or some mad scientist is planning to blow up Metropolis, or something similar. But whatever the case, this isn’t a ticket hotline, okay?”

“Well, I was wrong. I thought…” Xu Fu scratched his head. He had to think about it. Helena was Batman’s daughter, and the father and daughter’s behavior and thoughts were almost identical. They were obviously not the kind of people who would exchange contact information after a brief collaboration in order to make it easier to go out for karaoke and drinks.

If they leave you their contact information, there's a 90% chance it's a multi-layered encrypted anti-tracking line, and you should definitely call that number when you really need it.

"Sorry, if it's inconvenient, then never mind." Xu Fu was somewhat disappointed as he prepared to hang up. He had thought that contacting them at least proved that they were already friends, and that their relationship was tolerable, even if only when they were in uniform.

Helena suddenly called out to him, "Wait."

Hearing her soft sigh, Xu Fu felt a glimmer of hope—it seemed like a harbinger of a change in her emotions. Helena, upon hearing Xu Fu mention the family travel plans, thought of her own family. She recalled that even when her mother was alive, they had never traveled far together because her father, due to his work as Batman, never took a vacation. Not to mention, after her mother's death, the number of times she and her father saw each other had drastically decreased over the past six years.

For her, a family camping trip was like a mirage, a distant dream, beautiful and far removed from the rest of her life, never to intersect with it.

"Be there at 10 a.m. tomorrow, at Metropolitan International Airport," she said coldly. "I will see you then."

Xu Fu was extremely excited: "Really? What are you planning to do? Is this a special private room or...?"

"Don't ask questions, just do it, I'll take care of the arrangements."

Since she agreed to make the arrangements, it must be reliable. Xu Fu said happily, "Thank you very much. I owe you a favor. You are such a good person."

"Save your breath, such trivial matters are not worth my attention." Helena paused, then suddenly said meaningfully, "You must cherish everything you have now—family, friends, including Kara Kent—and not take it for granted. One day in the future, when you look back on this, you will realize how lucky you are."

Xu Fu was stunned: "Helena? Are you alright?"

“I’m fine,” her voice turned cold again. “By the way, it better not be next time, or you’ll never be able to get through to this number again.”

"Okay, okay, got it." Xu Fu hung up the phone with a smile, but he didn't take her final threat seriously. He knew perfectly well that she was just bluffing, and even if he bothered her with something like this again, she wouldn't just ignore him like that.

All I can say is that this time, despite her apparent aversion, she ultimately did Xu Fu a small favor, didn't she?

Perhaps this is what is called arrogance.

Xu Fu put away the phone and smiled at Reynolds, "The problem is solved."

At this moment, Xu Fu didn't quite understand what Helena meant by "solution".

The next morning, at Metropolitan International Airport.

Sunlight streamed through the newly painted lobby floor, and a row of empty seats stood to one side of the entrance. Passengers hurried in and out with their suitcases, while electronic displays on the ceiling showed flight schedules and times.

· ·Requesting flowers····· ·······

The clock on the electronic scoreboard was drawing ever closer to ten o'clock. The Reynolds family stood there, pulling their suitcases and bags into the bright sunlight of the hall, looking around. They carefully scrutinized everyone who approached them, trying to see if they were the ones who should be there to pick them up, but so far, everyone had passed them by.

Mr. Reynolds couldn't help but whisper in Xu Fu's ear, "Is your friend's arrangement really reliable?"

No wonder he thought that. Helena said nothing, only that they had to be in the airport terminal by 10 o'clock sharp. If it weren't for the fact that Xu Fu might know some "magical" friends, Mr. Reynolds would have thought they were just having fun.

“Don’t worry,” Xu Fu said confidently. “If she says she can handle it, then there will be no result.”

Helena punched him in the face as expected. Just as the scoreboard's electronic clock struck ten, a short man in a black suit appeared behind the group, like a ghost appearing out of thin air. He wore black ultrasonic glasses, and sunlight reflected off the lenses, making his eyes sharp and piercing. Mrs. Reynolds was startled when she first saw him, instinctively taking a step back. She had never dealt with such a willful fellow before and was understandably nervous.

0 .... ....

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Reynolds?" The short man, dressed too formally, had a very kind voice and a polite tone, which put Mrs. Reynolds at ease.

Xu Fu agreed, and the man politely led the three people behind him to the back of the hall. Mr. Reynolds suddenly remembered something, picked up his packed suitcase, and asked if he needed to check it in, as it was 100% overweight. But the man replied that it wasn't necessary, as there was no weight limit for this flight.

The man led them through the VIP passage to the boarding gate, which excited Mrs. Reynolds once again. When they stepped onto the runway and saw the plane they were going to board through the glass, even Xu Fu had to admit that the plane was somewhat beyond his capabilities.

A white aircraft, encased in a light-colored shell, rested on the tarmac like a sleeping falcon. Two pairs of titanium alloy turboprops, totaling four, were suspended beneath the wings on both sides, their wingtips reflecting the dazzling sunlight. The words "Wayne Technologies" on the shell were very eye-catching.

Xu Fu may have overlooked an important matter: Huntress may be one of the country's top agents, but Helena Wayne is the rightful heiress to Wayne Enterprises International and the princess of Gotham City. She said a private jet is nothing to her.

As it turned out, their surprise came too soon. When they boarded the plane and saw three luxurious suites, an open-plan dining room, and a lounge area, their astonishment was almost indescribable. It took Mr. Reynolds half a day to recover from his astonishment. He whispered in Xu Fu's ear, "Your friend must be a big shot; he must be very rich. Your friend must be very rich, right?"

"A rich second-generation? No," Xu Fu muttered, "she's very rich."

Chapter 1704 Interrogation

A beam of light shot out from the distant depths of space, piercing through the dark clouds and leaving a dazzling trail in the night sky. It was so fast, yet so small, that it passed Earth's orbiting satellites and radar-controlled areas without attracting any attention. No one on Earth noticed this tiny alien.

2:30 a.m., somewhere in the metropolis.

Mike, handcuffed, sat in a chair at the interrogation table. This was the tenth time he had fallen asleep mid-interrogation, even letting out a long, lazy yawn. The black-suited agent in charge of the interrogation, sitting opposite him, wrinkled his nose in annoyance. Mike waved him away apologetically: "Sorry, I think it's getting late. I really miss my bed."

“Mr. Marcus, it would be good for both of us if you cooperated,” the agent said angrily. “I’ve been here with you for four hours, and you haven’t said a single useful word.”

“I’m telling you because I know nothing about it,” Mike said, spreading his hands in exasperation.

“We both know that ‘047’ is a lie,” the agent said coldly. “There’s a bomb in your car, and someone will die because of it.”

“Like I’ve said it many times, this is my dad’s car! I just stole his car, and I don’t think that’s enough to warrant this, right?” Mike shook the shackles on his hands with a sigh, the chains clanging as he did so.

"And the latter just happened to disappear at that moment." The agent recalled, "This only made people more suspicious that you were probably in cahoots."

"Colluded? Me and my father?" Mike laughed out loud, as if he had heard a very funny joke.

The agent frowned: "What?"

“I’m sorry, it’s ridiculous to say such things between my father and me,” Mike said, taking a breath. “He and I can do whatever we want, but partnership and cooperation? No, that’s impossible.”

From the moment Mike entered the interrogation room, he displayed an unprecedented seriousness, prompting the agents to look at him with suspicion, as if trying to ascertain whether he was telling the truth. However, this serious atmosphere lasted only four or five seconds before being broken by a long, extremely unpleasant "clucking" sound.

Mike looked bewildered, clutching his stomach, and said, "Excuse me, did you say I've been here for four hours? I think I'm starving. I've heard that in some places, they interrogate prisoners and deal with their stomachs first in order to get them to talk. Do you have such a rule?"

The agent propped his forehead with his hand, beginning to realize he'd never truly known this man. He gathered his documents, stood up to leave the interrogation room, instructed the guard to come in and watch the child, and then walked around behind the one-way glass partition of the interrogation room.

An official with gray hair and a wrinkled face looked coldly at the agent and said coldly, "We are not going to move forward. We will have to do what is necessary."

“Give me a little more time,” the agent said. “I’ll make him talk.”

“I gave you four hours, and you still couldn’t get a single word out of him.” The white-haired officer said angrily, “I’ve always ridiculed your so-called interrogation techniques; they’re useless and no more effective than some primitive methods. I’ve always preferred simple and effective methods.”

“That’s not why I’m here. If that were the reason, why would you need me here?” the agent muttered. “Waller wouldn’t agree.”

"Waller!" The white-haired officer's voice suddenly rose, startling those around him. Then he lowered his voice slightly: "Waller isn't here, I am. This is my territory, and I'm in charge."

The agent frowned and subconsciously glanced through the one-way glass into the interrogation room, where the strange-looking boy seemed to be trying to strike up a conversation with the guard who was pointing a gun at him.

Is this child a terrorist?

The agent hesitated for a moment and said, "I think this guy might be telling the truth, or he might really know nothing. This doesn't make sense. According to our investigation, he was on a date with a girl when the explosion happened, and his car was less than a hundred yards away from here. For a terrorist, that's the worst possible time. In addition, we also found out that he attends a metropolitan university right across from the explosion site, so if he really wanted to blow something up, theoretically he shouldn't have chosen a place he could contact."

The white-haired official gave him a cold look and said in a deep voice, "Do I need to remind you that we are dealing with a Knights Order? Can the Knights Order's entire operation, the motives and actions of its members be explained by common sense?"

The agent fell silent.

“Always remember, we are facing a bunch of complete lunatics. You must deal with them at all costs. The enemy will not collude with you.” The white-haired officer coldly snorted. “Moreover, since the Knights’ activities are never isolated, we must obtain intelligence before their accomplices attack again. Now, enough talk, let’s get to work.”

Deep down, the agent knew there was no turning back, so he just sighed silently and prayed for the unfortunate child.

A few minutes after the agents left, the interrogation room door creaked open, and a large group of people rushed in, instantly surrounding Mike. Mike looked around: "Hey, gentlemen, does this mean I can finally leave?"

No one noticed him as two soldiers put a black hood over his head, a group of people lifted him from his seat, took him to another room, and made him sit on a cold metal chair. They tied his hands and feet with straps and shoved a cold object into his head.

Mike could sense people appearing and disappearing around him, but he couldn't see anything in front of him, so he had to ask, "Is anyone there? Can anyone explain what's going on here?"

The agent in charge of his interrogation walked to the control panel in the room and said in a slightly apologetic tone, "I'm sorry, kid. But you still have a chance to explain everything; it doesn't have to be this way."

“I was initially shocked by what you said, but I swear I really didn’t know,” Mike said helplessly. “Either this way, or I’ll tell you the truth: my dad is actually a big bad guy. He smokes, drinks, gambles, is extremely unfriendly to his son, and has a bad habit of planting bombs under his car seat. Do you mind?”

The agent sighed: "Since you insist, there's nothing I can do."