Chapter 1177 - Ch: 327-332

Chapter 327: Preventing a Convenience Store Robbery

Seeing his companion subdued, the robber began to panic. "Don't come any closer! I'll shoot!" He aimed his gun at the cashier behind the counter. "One more step and I'll kill him!"

Lynn maintained a steady stance, his voice calm and firm. "You are surrounded. Harming the hostage will only make things worse. Put down your weapon, and you still have a chance."

The robber's hands began to tremble, and sweat dripped from his forehead. He looked young and terrified, likely his first time involved in such a crime. Lynn used this to his advantage, continuing to apply pressure:

"Think about the consequences. Are you really prepared to face life imprisonment for a robbery? Put down your weapon, and I promise you'll be treated fairly."

These words seemed to work. The robber's eyes began to waver, and his gun lowered slightly. At that moment, Lynn acted decisively, lunging forward while keeping his gun aimed. His movements were lightning-fast; before the robber could raise his gun again, Lynn was in front of him, grabbing his wrist, pushing the gun towards the ceiling, and simultaneously striking the robber's abdomen to throw him off balance.

A gunshot rang out, but the bullet only hit the ceiling. Lynn quickly pinned the robber to the ground, disarmed him, and cuffed him with a second pair of handcuffs.

The entire process took no more than thirty seconds. Lynnstood up and quickly checked on the store clerk, confirming he was unharmed, just shaken. Then, he walked to the store entrance, brought the second robber inside, and had him sit on the floor with his accomplice to await the Police.

Soon, the sound of Police sirens grew closer. Lynn looked up and saw George and Gwen standing across the street. Gwen's face was filled with worry and fear, while Georgewore an expression of seriousness and pride. Lynnnodded at them, signaling that everything was under control.

A few minutes later, several Police cars arrived at the scene, and a team of officers rushed into the convenience store. Lynn immediately raised his hands, identifying himself:

"Lynn Hall, FBI Agent." He slowly took out his identification with his other hand. "Three suspects have been subdued, and weapons have been confiscated. There are no casualties."

A Police officer checked his ID, then nodded. "Thank you for your assistance, Detective Hall. We'll take over the scene."

Lynn briefly explained the situation to the Police, then walked out of the convenience store to meet George and Gwen, who were waiting. Gwen immediately rushed forward and hugged him tightly.

"You idiot!" Her voice trembled. "You could have been killed!"

Lynn gently stroked his sister's hair. "Hey, I'm fine. This is my job, remember?"

George stepped forward, looking at Lynn with an appreciative gaze. "Well done, son. Although I wish you had waited for the Police, you saved that clerk's life." He clapped Lynn on the shoulder. "You've really grown into an excellent law enforcement officer."

Lynn felt a warmth spread through his heart. His adoptive father's approval meant a lot to him, especially since George himself was a respected Police officer.

"Just doing what I had to do," Lynn replied humbly.

Over the next hour, they cooperated with the Police to complete the necessary procedures and statements. Thanks to Lynn's identity and professional handling, the entire process went relatively smoothly. Finally, by the time all the procedures were completed, it was late at night.

"Alright," Lynn looked at Gwen and George, "I think we should continue with our plan—getting you both home. This time, hopefully, there won't be any more unexpected interruptions."

Gwen linked her arm through Lynn's, half-jokingly saying, "Seriously, Lynn, is it always this exciting with you? I thought tonight was just a normal family dinner."

Lynn smiled. "Usually it is. Today was just a bit special."

When they arrived at George's apartment building, Lynnhugged his adoptive father and sister.

"See you tomorrow?" Gwen asked expectantly. "Maybe we could go for a picnic in Central Park?"

Lynn nodded. "Certainly, that sounds good. This time I promise there won't be any dangerous actions."

George smiled and patted Lynn's back. "Don't make promises like that too easily, son. Danger always seems to find you."

Lynn watched them enter the apartment building, then turned and walked towards his own residence.

The next day.

The Sun's rays filtered through the curtains into Lynn Hall's apartment, waking the FBI Detective. He opened his eyes, stretched, and felt much more relaxed than the day before.

He picked up his phone from the nightstand and saw a few unread messages. The first was from Mark, asking how his vacation was going; the second was from Deputy Supervisor Clayton, informing him that the Special Operations Team member list had been tentatively finalized and he would be formally notified after his vacation; the last one was from Gwen, and its content made him frown slightly.

"Good morning, big hero! Did you see the news last night? Your subduing of the robbers made the local news! By the way, I've arranged a surprise for you—at 11 AM at 'Morning Dew Cafe' in Brooklyn Heights, my colleague Ethan Redlich wants to meet you. He's a columnist for The Daily Bugle, specializing in topics related to super-powered individuals and Mutants. Don't be late! Love, your sister."

Lynn sighed and rubbed his temples. Gwen always had a habit of "arranging surprises" for him, ever since they were children. Usually, these surprises meant he was set up for social events he'd rather avoid. And this time, the situation seemed particularly troublesome—a journalist specializing in Mutant topics? This was definitely not within his comfort zone.

As an FBI Agent, Lynn's stance on Mutant issues had always been cautious and complex. On one hand, he respected the law and human rights, believing that Mutants should receive the same protection as ordinary citizens; on the other hand, he had also personally witnessed the disasters caused by some Mutants with dangerous abilities. The FBI had specialized departments to handle Mutant-related cases, but Lynn's duties primarily focused on counter-terrorism and biochemical threats, rarely directly intervening in Mutant affairs.

He replied to Gwen's message: "I didn't see the news. About your'surprise,' I'm really not sure this is a good idea. A journalist reporting on Mutant topics? You know I can't discuss work-related matters."

Almost immediately, Gwen replied: "Please, Lynn! Ethanis a good person, very talented. He just wants to meet you, not for an interview. I've already told him you're my brother, and he's looking forward to meeting you. Don't embarrass me, okay?"

Lynn knew he couldn't refuse Gwen's request. Ever since their parents died in a car accident, Gwen had become one of the most important people in his life. Georgeadopted them, giving them a home, but the special sibling bond between Lynn and Gwen had never changed.

"Alright," he finally replied, "11 AM, Morning Dew Cafe. But I can only stay for half an hour, I'm meeting George at the shooting range this afternoon."

Gwen replied with a string of smiling emojis and words of thanks, and Lynn couldn't help but smile. No matter how reluctant, he always found it hard to refuse Gwen's requests.

After getting up, Lynn performed a simple morning workout—push-ups, sit-ups, and a few sets of dumbbell exercises, stretching his muscles thoroughly. Afterwards, he took a shower, shaved, and changed into a dark grey shirt and jeans, topped with a light dark blue jacket. This was his standard attire on vacation—comfortable yet neat, the jacket loose enough to conceal his sidearm. Although he was on vacation, as an experienced Agent, he had developed the habit of always being armed.

"Morning Dew Cafe" was located on a quiet corner in Brooklyn Heights, an elegantly decorated small cafe known for its high-quality artisanal coffee and homemade pastries. Lynn arrived ten minutes early and chose a window seat that also allowed him to observe the entire cafe. This was his professional habit—always choosing a position from which he could monitor his surroundings and had multiple escape routes.

He ordered a black coffee, then began to observe the surroundings and the people. There weren't many customers in the cafe, mostly local residents or office workers. Quiet jazz music played softly in the background, creating a relaxed atmosphere.

Just as Lynn was sipping his coffee, the cafe door opened, and Gwen walked in, accompanied by a man in his thirties. The man was of medium height, with a neatly trimmed beard, wearing black-rimmed glasses, and dressed in casual but refined clothes, carrying a leather notebook. Gwen looked around, and upon seeing Lynn, a brilliant smile immediately bloomed on her face, and she pulled the man towards him.

"Lynn!" Gwen greeted enthusiastically, bending down to give him a hug. "You're on time, that's great." She turned to the man beside her. "This is Ethan Redlich, a columnist for The Daily Bugle. Ethan, this is my brother, Lynn Hall."

Ethan extended his hand, a friendly smile on his face. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Hall. Gwen often talks about you, always impressive feats."

Lynn stood up and cautiously shook the man's hand, noting the firm and confident grip. "Just call me Lynn." He responded briefly, with a hint of wariness in his tone. "Nice to meet you."

After the three sat down, Gwen began to liven the atmosphere, talking about the cafe's specialty drinks and pastries. She clearly sensed Lynn's wariness and tried to ease the tension. Ethan ordered a latte and a blueberry muffin, appearing quite relaxed.

"So, Lynn," Ethan began after a brief exchange of pleasantries, "Gwen tells me you work for the FBI? That must be a challenging job."

Lynn nodded slightly, his expression maintaining professional calm. "Indeed. But I believe every profession has its unique challenges." He deliberately answered in a detached manner, avoiding giving the other person an opportunity for in-depth questions.

Gwen gently kicked Lynn's foot under the table, clearly displeased with his cool attitude. She turned to Ethan, enthusiastically saying, "Lynn just stopped a convenience store robbery last night, it was like a movie scene!"

Ethan's eyes lit up. "Really? I heard there was indeed a federal Agent on vacation who subdued three armed robbers last night. That was you? That's truly impressive."

Lynn shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Any law enforcement officer would have done the same."

"Modest," Ethan commented with a smile, "but to my knowledge, not everyone can single-handedly take on three armed thugs." He paused, seemingly considering his next topic. "You know, I've recently been researching the attitudes and policies of law enforcement agencies towards super-powered individuals. As an experienced FBI Agent, you must have some unique insights."

Lynn's expression immediately became more guarded. This was what he had feared—journalists always found a way to steer conversations towards their areas of interest. He glanced at Gwen, who was looking at him expectantly, clearly hoping he would cooperate with Ethan's topic.

"I'm afraid that's not a topic I can discuss," Lynn replied calmly, his tone becoming more formal. "The FBI has strict regulations regarding media statements, especially concerning sensitive policy areas."

Ethan didn't seem surprised by the response; he smiled and nodded. "Of course, I completely understand. I'm not looking for an official statement. Just as a person, as a citizen, what are your thoughts on Mutants and super-powered individuals? Do you think they should be treated the same as ordinary people, or should there be special regulations?"

Lynn felt a surge of annoyance. This question, seemingly simple, was full of traps. No matter how he answered, it could be misinterpreted or used to support a particular political stance. As a federal Agent, he had to maintain neutrality and professionalism, especially in public settings.

"Ethan," Lynn's voice deepened, and his gaze met the other man's directly, "I understand your interest in this topic, but I must state that I will not express any personal opinions on Mutant policy or related issues. This is not only because of my professional identity but also because I believe these complex issues require comprehensive consideration of legal, security, and human rights factors, and cannot be adequately discussed in a brief conversation in a cafe."

Gwen looked somewhat disappointed, but Ethan seemed quite interested in this response. He nodded slightly, took out his notebook, and made some notes.

"Interesting," he said, "Many people would be eager to express their opinions, especially on a hot topic like Mutants. Your caution and professional attitude are refreshing."

Lynn frowned. "I hope you're not treating this as an interview. If so, I must state that this is 'off the record' and not for quotation."

Ethan immediately closed his notebook and raised his hands in a gesture of harmlessness. "Absolutely not an interview, just a personal habit. As a journalist, I always make note of interesting insights. But I respect your position and will not quote anything."

The atmosphere became a bit tense. Gwen tried to change the subject, talking about a recent movie, but the conversation felt forced and unnatural.

Chapter 328 Important Information About Black Hawk International

Ethan seemed to notice Lynn's discomfort and tried to open the conversation again, "I heard you recently returned from a mission? Of course, I'm not asking for details. I'm just curious about the pace of life for an FBI Agent."

Lynn took a sip of coffee, "Busy and challenging. But I believe the life of a reporter is also like that, especially a columnist." He paused, deciding to ask the other person, "Why are you particularly interested in the Mutant topic?"

Ethan seemed not to have anticipated this question but quickly regained his composure, "This is a key issue that defines our era. The emergence of Mutants has completely changed our understanding of humanity itself, raising profound legal, ethical, and social issues. As a reporter, I believe I have a responsibility to report on these issues objectively and promote social dialogue."

Lynn watched Ethan, trying to read his true motives, "The Daily Bugle, especially your editor-in-chief J. Jonah Jameson, is known for criticizing superheroes. Does this stance also extend to reporting on Mutants?"

Ethan smiled, seeming not to mind the direct question, "Mr. Jameson is indeed skeptical of some people who call themselves heroes, especially those who wear masks and are not bound by law. But our newspaper does not have an anti-Mutant stance. In fact, my column has always tried to show the diversity of the Mutant community and the challenges they face."

Gwen interjected, "Ethan recently wrote a series of articles on Mutant rights that were very in-depth and balanced. He even risked interviewing several underground Mutant groups to try and let the public hear their voices."

Lynn was somewhat surprised by this information but remained cautious, "So, what is your stance? How do you think Mutants should be treated by society?"

Ethan seemed prepared for this question, "I believe that basic human rights should apply to everyone, regardless of their genes. But at the same time, I also recognize the potential safety hazards that certain Mutant abilities can pose. I support establishing transparent and fair systems to deal with these issues, rather than simply fear or discriminate." This answer sounded well-thought-out, stating a principled position while also considering the complexities of reality.

Lynn nodded but did not comment further. He checked his watch, realizing he had exceeded his planned half-hour.

"I'm afraid I must leave," he stood up, "I have an appointment with George this afternoon."

Gwen looked a bit disappointed but did not stop him. Ethan also stood up and extended his hand, "It was a pleasure meeting You, Lynn. Although our conversation was a bit tense, I really appreciate You taking the time to meet."

Lynn reluctantly shook the other person's hand, "I hope You understand my position. This is not personal, but a requirement of my profession."

Ethan nodded, "Completely understandable. However, if You change your mind and are willing to share some general insights on how law enforcement views Mutants, without involving the FBI's official stance, it would be very helpful for the public to understand these complex issues." He handed over a business card, "Feel free to contact me anytime."

Lynn took the business card but made no commitment. He nodded to Gwen and then left the coffee shop, his heart filled with complex feelings.

As soon as he was out of sight of the coffee shop, Lynntook out his phone and sent Gwen a message: "Next time, please tell me in advance what your'surprise' involves. You know I can't discuss sensitive topics with the media."

Gwen quickly replied: "I'm sorry, but Ethan is really a good reporter, unlike those who only seek sensationalism. He cares about truth and balanced reporting. I thought You would get along well."

Lynn sighed and did not reply immediately. He understood Gwen's intentions, but she seemed not to fully grasp his professional restrictions and sensitivities as an FBI Agent.

Just as Lynn was about to leave, he noticed Ethan also walked out of the coffee shop, alone, seemingly deep in thought. Out of professional habit, Lynn decided to observe the reporter. He didn't leave directly but walked across the street to a newsstand, pretending to browse magazines while observing Ethan's actions through the reflective glass window.

Ethan seemed to be waiting for someone. He stood outside the coffee shop, checking his phone from time to time, looking somewhat anxious. A few minutes later, a dark sedan stopped near the coffee shop. Ethan quickly walked towards the car, briefly talked to the person inside, and then got in. The car quickly drove away, but Lynn managed to write down the license plate number.

This action triggered Lynn's professional vigilance. Secret meetings between reporters and mysterious figures are always noteworthy, especially after discussing sensitive topics. He considered whether he should query the license plate number through the FBI's system but quickly dismissed the idea. Without a reasonable suspicion, doing so might violate procedures and even raise ethical issues.

Lynn decided to temporarily put this strange observation aside and continue with his vacation plans. He walked towards the shooting range, planning to spend the afternoon with George. However, Ethan's questions and his mysterious meeting lingered in Lynn's mind.

The shooting range is located in the suburbs of Manhattan, a professional training facility frequented by many law enforcement officers and security professionals. When Lynn arrived, George was already waiting there, examining a classic Colt 1911 pistol.

"You're late," George commented without looking up, "How was the meeting with Gwen's friend?"

Lynn took off his jacket, took out his service pistol, a Glock 19, and began the standard safety check, "Not great. He's a reporter who specializes in reporting on Mutant topics."

George raised his eyebrows, looking directly into Lynn's eyes this time, "Mutants? Gwen knows that's a sensitive topic, especially for You."

Lynn shrugged, "She thinks he's a good reporter, the kind with ethical standards. Maybe she just wanted to help me expand my social circle? I don't know."

George chuckled, "Typical Gwen concern. She always wants everyone to be friends." He paused, his expression becoming more serious, "So, this reporter, what did he ask?"

"Basically, he was probing my views on Mutants, especially from a law enforcement perspective," Lynnreplied briefly, beginning to load a magazine.

"How did You respond?" George asked, a hint of concern in his voice. As a retired police officer, he was very familiar with the complexities of law enforcement interaction with the media.

Lynn sighed, "I remained neutral and professional. Told him I couldn't and wouldn't discuss such sensitive topics. But honestly, I felt uncomfortable about the whole meeting."

George nodded, his expression becoming thoughtful, "The Mutant issue has always been a polarizing topic. There are different opinions even within law enforcement."

Lynn looked at his adoptive father curiously, "What's your view? As an experienced police officer."

George thought for a moment, then replied, "I've always believed that what matters is not what a person is, but what they do. Some Mutants use their abilities to help others, while some use them for crime or harm. Just like ordinary people, they should be judged based on their actions, not their identity." He paused, "But I also understand the fear of ordinary people. An individual capable of mind control or possessing destructive power does represent an unusual threat."

Lynn nodded, agreeing with his adoptive father's point of view, "That's the difficult part. How do we find a balance between protecting societal safety and respecting individual rights?"

George patted Lynn on the shoulder, "There are no easy answers to that question, never have been. That's why we need people like You thinking about it in law enforcement."

The two began their shooting practice, each choosing different targets. Lynn's shooting was accurate and efficient, each shot hitting the center area of the target, showing the results of years of training and practical experience. Despite his age, George still maintained considerable accuracy, just with a slightly slower rate of fire.

During a break in shooting, Lynn mentioned something else that was bothering him, "That reporter, Ethan, behaved strangely after leaving the coffee shop. He seemed to meet someone secretly and then left."

George looked surprised, "You followed him?"

"Not exactly," Lynn corrected, "Just professional habit, observing the surroundings. Saw him get into a dark sedan, seemed to be in a hurry."

George thought for a moment, "Maybe just his colleague or an informant. Reporters often have such secret meetings."

"Maybe," Lynn admitted, but deep down, he still felt a hint of unease, "It's just too much of a coincidence. We had just discussed the Mutant topic, and then he had such a secret meeting."

George looked at his adoptive son, "Do You think it's related to your work? Or related to Black Hawk International?"

Lynn shook his head, "I don't know. Maybe I'm being too sensitive. But after being in this line of work for a long time, You start to be suspicious of coincidences."

"Then stay vigilant," George advised, raising his gun towards the target again, "But don't let it affect your vacation. You're going back to work tomorrow, You should try to relax today."

They continued their shooting practice, and the topic shifted to lighter content - a police officer training program George had recently participated in, some memories from Lynn's childhood, and Gwen's development in the journalism field.

After finishing the shooting training, they went to a small restaurant nearby for lunch. It was a simple pasta place, with plain decor but delicious food. They ordered their favorite dishes and enjoyed the brief moment of peace.

"You know," George said after a few bites of pasta, "The discussion about Mutants reminded me of something from your childhood."

Lynn looked up, a bit surprised, "How so?"

George put down his fork, his expression softening, "During the time I first adopted You and Gwen, You often had nightmares. One time, You dreamt that You turned into some kind of non-human being, rejected and feared by everyone."

Lynn tried hard to remember, but that memory was already vague, "I don't really remember."

"You were very scared back then," George continued, "Scared that You would become different, scared that You would lose the people who loved You. I think that was because of the trauma from your parents' sudden death."

Lynn was silent for a while, this childhood memory touching some deeply buried emotions, "Maybe that's why the Mutant topic is particularly sensitive for me. I can understand the fear of being seen as 'different'."

George nodded, his eyes gentle, "Everyone deep down is afraid of being rejected, of being seen as an outsider. This is perhaps one of the reasons why the Mutant issue resonates and divides people so much."

This conversation made Lynn think about his true attitude towards Mutants. As an FBI Agent, he had to remain professional and neutral, but as a person, he also had his own emotions and experiences. Perhaps his wariness towards Ethan was not just professional caution, but also because the topic touched on some of his own unease and fears.

After lunch, George suggested they take a walk to digest the food. They strolled along the park path, enjoying the rare moment of tranquility. However, this peace was soon interrupted - Lynn's phone rang, the screen showing it was Gwen.

"Hey, Gwen," Lynn answered the phone, "What's up?"

Gwen's voice sounded a bit nervous, "Lynn, are You still at the shooting range?"

"No, George and I just finished lunch and are walking nearby. What's wrong?" Lynn felt a wave of unease, Gwen's tone was clearly off.

"I just got a call from Ethan," Gwen said quickly, "He said he found some important information about Black Hawk International that might be related to what You're investigating. He wants to see You immediately."

Lynn immediately became alert, glancing at George, who also sensed something was wrong, "How did he know I was investigating Black Hawk International? I never told anyone that information."

"I might have mentioned it in a conversation," Gwenadmitted, her voice filled with apology, "I just said You were recently handling cases related to them, no details."

Lynn felt a surge of annoyance and worry. Such information leakage, even seemingly harmless, could have serious consequences. Even more worrying was why Ethan would suddenly have information about Black Hawk International?

"Where is he?" Lynn finally asked, deciding to at least find out the situation.

"He said he's heading to a warehouse in the Brooklyndocks, the address is in the old industrial area next to Pier 24 at Gerritsen Inlet. He sounded very nervous, said it was a dangerous situation, but he had information he had to share." Gwen's voice came through the phone, carrying obvious worry.

Lynn exchanged a serious look with George. The Gerritsen Inlet dock area is a semi-abandoned industrial zone in Brooklyn, where most of the once-busy port facilities are now derelict, becoming a hotspot for smuggling, black market trading, and other illegal activities. This was not a place a reporter should go alone, especially with information potentially involving a dangerous organization like Black Hawk International.

"Gwen, listen to me," Lynn's voice became serious and firm, "I'm going there now, but I need You to do one thing - immediately contact FBI Headquarters and tell them I might need backup. Contact Agent Mark Wilson and tell him I'm heading to Pier 24 in the Gerritsen Inlet area, and it might be related to Black Hawk International. Understood?" 

Chapter 329 Be careful! He is a mutant!

"Understood," Gwen replied, her voice tense. "Lynn, be careful. I have a bad feeling about this."

"I will," Lynn responded curtly. "Keep your phone on. If Ethan contacts you again, let me know immediately."

After hanging up, Lynn turned to George. "I have to go see what's going on."

George's expression became exceptionally serious, his eyes gleaming with the alertness honed from years of Police work. "I'm coming with you. Don't argue," he raised a hand to stop Lynn's potential objection. "I may be retired, but I still remember how to handle dangerous situations. And you might need backup."

Lynn knew arguing with George was futile. The old Police, though retired, had lost none of his determination and courage. "Alright," he finally agreed. "But you must follow my instructions and keep a safe distance. This could be more dangerous than we think."

They quickly walked to the nearest main road and hailed a taxi. In the car, Lynn took out his phone and contacted Mark.

"Wilson," Mark responded on the other end, his voice professional and alert.

"Mark, it's me, Hall." Lynn's voice was low and urgent. "I need you to do something. A reporter named EthanRedlich, a columnist for The Daily Bugle, claims to have important information about Black Hawk International. He's currently heading to Pier 24 in the Gridwich Docks area. I suspect this might be a trap, or he might be in danger."

"Understood," Mark immediately replied. Lynn could hear the tapping of a keyboard. "I'm looking up this reporter's background and recent activities. Do you need support?"

"Possibly, but don't alarm too many people right now. First, check the location and Ethan's background for any suspicious information. If I don't respond within half an hour, immediately dispatch a support team to that location."

"Understood. Be careful, Officer. If this involves Black Hawk, it could be more complicated than we think."

After hanging up, Lynn fell into deep thought. How did Ethan get information about Black Hawk International? Why choose such a secluded location? Most importantly, why didn't he mention this information during their meeting, but instead contacted Gwen suddenly afterward? Everything felt wrong.

The taxi drove through the streets of Brooklyn, gradually leaving the bustling commercial district and entering the industrial zone. As they got closer to their destination, the surrounding buildings became more dilapidated, and there were fewer pedestrians on the streets. Finally, the taxi stopped at the entrance of an industrial area that looked like it had been abandoned for years.

"This is fine," Lynn told the driver, paid the fare, and got out with George.

Standing at the entrance, they faced a desolate scene of rusted warehouses, broken containers, and abandoned cranes. In the distance, the Brooklyn skyline shimmered under the sun, a stark contrast to this decaying industrial ruin.

"Pier 24 should be in that direction," George pointed southeast, his Police instincts quickly analyzing the surroundings. "It looks like it hasn't been used in a long time."

Lynn nodded, pulling his Glock 19 pistol from inside his jacket, checking the magazine and safety. "Stay alert from now on. We don't know what we'll encounter."

George also pulled out the small pistol he carried with him—though retired, he still maintained the habits of a law enforcement Officer, holding a legal weapon permit.

The two began to cautiously move through the abandoned industrial area, keeping low and using the cover provided by containers and buildings. The air was filled with the mixed scent of rust and seawater, occasionally broken by the cries of seagulls. The entire area was almost deserted, with only a few stray cats moving among the debris.

After about ten minutes of advancement, they finally saw a dilapidated pier marked "24." Next to it was a large warehouse, its exterior walls covered in rust and graffiti, most of its windows broken, but strangely, a side door appeared to be new, a stark contrast to the surrounding decay.

"There," Lynn pointed to the new door. "It looks like someone has been using this warehouse recently."

They approached the warehouse, and Lynn signaled George to stop at a safe distance. "I'll go in to scout first. If I don't come out in five minutes, contact Markimmediately and tell him the location and situation."

George reluctantly nodded in agreement, but his expression showed he wouldn't leave easily. Lynn knew his adoptive father's character and knew he might rush in despite instructions if danger arose, but there was no time to argue about it now.

Lynn cautiously approached the new door and found it unlocked, which further heightened his vigilance. He gripped his pistol, slowly pushed the door open, and entered the dim interior of the warehouse.

The warehouse interior was spacious, with several broken skylights on the high ceiling allowing some sunlight to filter in, forming patches of light on the floor. Most of the area was piled with rusted machinery and broken containers, but the central area was an open space with a few makeshift tables and chairs and some electronic equipment.

Lynn held his breath, listening carefully for any possible sounds. Initially, there was dead silence, but then he caught a faint groan coming from a corner deep within the warehouse. He moved cautiously, skirting various obstacles, approaching the source of the sound.

In the back of the warehouse, he found Ethan Redlich. The reporter was tied to a chair, his mouth taped shut, and his face showed obvious bruises, indicating he had been beaten. Seeing Lynn, Ethan's eyes widened, and he began to struggle violently, seemingly trying to convey some urgent message.

Lynn quickly scanned the surroundings, confirmed there was no obvious threat, then moved quickly to Ethan's side, carefully peeling off the tape from his mouth.

"It's a trap…" Ethan said weakly, his voice hoarse. "They forced me to call Gwen."

Lynn immediately understood the situation, but it was too late. He heard a soft chuckle behind him, followed by several footsteps. He turned around, raising his weapon, and saw three people standing in the open area in the center of the warehouse, sunlight streaming down on them through the skylights.

"Detective Lynn Hall," the man in the middle spoke, his voice clearly mocking. "So glad you could accept our 'invitation'."

The man was tall, dressed in a dark suit, with a stern face. He had a distinct scar over his left eye and wore a black glove on his right hand. On either side of him stood two burly bodyguards, their stances and alert eyes indicating they were professionally trained.

Lynn maintained his aiming stance, his voice calm but full of menace. "Who are you? Why did you kidnap this reporter?"

The man took a step forward, the sunlight illuminating his face, revealing a sinister smile. "I am Victor Cruz, Head of Security for Black Hawk International. As for why we kidnapped this poor Mr. Reporter?" He glanced at Ethan. "Because he was too curious and started investigating things he shouldn't have. And you, Detective Hall, your actions on Tornali Island caused us quite a bit of trouble."

Lynn's heart rate quickened, but his expression and posture remained professionally calm. "So this is a trap. You used Ethan to lure me here."

"Clever," Cruz nodded approvingly. "But not entirely correct. This isn't just about catching you, but also about finding out what exactly you discovered on Tornali Islandand whether you've already passed the information to FBI Headquarters."

Lynn's gaze darted between the three men, assessing the situation. A frontal confrontation might not be the best option, especially with Ethan still tied to the chair, a potential hostage. He needed time, a chance for Mark and the support team to arrive.

"You already know the answer," Lynn said calmly. "We discovered your illegal human experiments and biological weapon development on Tornali Island. This information has already been submitted to the Federal Bureau of Investigation and international security agencies. Black Hawk International's days are numbered."

Cruz's smile widened, but his eyes grew colder. "Do you think we weren't prepared? Tornali Island was just a small research station. Our main facilities and databases are completely isolated from it. Your actions, at best, only delayed our plans, nothing more."

Just then, a loud bang came from the other side of the warehouse, and a rusty large door was violently pushed open. Everyone's attention was drawn to it, including Cruz and his bodyguards. Lynn seized the opportunity, quickly diving behind nearby cover, simultaneously firing a shot in Cruz's direction, forcing them to also seek cover.

From the opened door emerged an unexpected figure—George Stacy, armed and with sharp eyes.

"Federal Bureau of Investigation! Drop your weapons!" George shouted, his voice loud and firm, though he had actually been retired for years.

This sudden interruption gave Lynn an opportunity. He quickly moved to Ethan, using a small knife he carried to cut the ropes binding the reporter. "Can you walk?" he asked quickly.

Ethan nodded, his face pale but with some strength returning to his eyes. "Yes. Be careful of the guy with the glove."

Just then, a blue energy beam shot from Cruz's position, hitting the container next to Lynn, melting the metal instantly and forming a smoking hole.

"Mutant," Ethan whispered, his voice filled with fear and confirmation. "I was captured because I found out they were using Mutant abilities to develop weapons."

Lynn immediately understood the gravity of the situation. Cruz was not just Black Hawk International's Head of Security; he was also a Mutant with energy manipulation abilities. This explained why Black Hawk was so interested in Mutant genes and abilities—they weren't just researching; they were actively utilizing these powers.

"George! Watch out! He's a Mutant!" Lynn shouted to his adoptive father, simultaneously pulling Ethan towards another cover.

Cruz's laughter echoed through the warehouse. "Now you understand, don't you? FBI Agent? You humans always underestimate our abilities." His hands began to glow blue. "We are not ordinary criminals you can casually investigate and apprehend. We represent the next step in evolution."

Lynn ignored his rhetoric, focusing on finding a safe path. "I need you to find an exit and run as soon as you get a chance," he told Ethan. "George will cover you."

Ethan shook his head. "I can't leave you. And I have important information to tell you."

Just then, another energy beam grazed over their heads, hitting the wall behind them, causing a shower of rubble and dust. Lynn looked back and saw Cruz walking towards them, his hands glowing with dangerous blue light, while his two bodyguards were moving towards George's position.

"George! Retreat!" Lynn shouted, knowing his adoptive father had no chance against two trained armed men and a powerful Mutant.

But George did not retreat. Instead, he skillfully used cover, firing at the two bodyguards, forcing them to seek cover and buying precious time for Lynn and Ethan.

Lynn quickly assessed the situation, deciding he had to distract Cruz. He peered out from behind cover and fired two shots at Cruz, forcing him to stop and defend. Cruz raised his hands, and a blue energy shield appeared in front of him, the bullets melting the instant they touched the barrier.

"Conventional weapons are useless against me, Detective," Cruz mocked. "You'll need more creative methods."

Lynn looked around, searching for a possible advantage. The warehouse structure was old, and the support beams on the ceiling were rusted. A plan formed in his mind.

"Ethan," he whispered. "When I count to three, I need you to run that way," he pointed towards a side door. "Don't stop, don't look back."

Ethan looked like he wanted to protest, but Lynn's gaze let him know this was not the time for discussion.

"One, two, three!"

Ethan immediately rushed in the designated direction, and as Lynn expected, Cruz's attention was drawn to the moving target. Just as Cruz prepared to attack Ethan, Lynn aimed at a main support beam above the ceiling and fired, hitting the same spot three times in quick succession.

After years of weathering and corrosion, the support beam was already very weak. The impact of the bullets caused it to snap, followed by a cascade of structural collapse. Large chunks of concrete and metal components began to fall from the ceiling, directly crashing down on Cruz's position.

Cruz raised his hands, trying to block the falling debris with an energy shield, but the quantity and weight of the objects exceeded his capabilities. A particularly large concrete block broke through his defense, crashing heavily onto his shoulder, sending him staggering to the ground.

Lynn seized the opportunity, rushed towards Cruz, and before he could regain his balance, kicked away his glove—which was likely the key device for controlling his abilities. Then, he delivered a precise, heavy punch to Cruz's jaw, temporarily knocking him unconscious.

Meanwhile, George had successfully cornered the two bodyguards, using his years of Police experience and tactical knowledge to gain the upper hand, even when outnumbered.

"Stop resisting!" George ordered, his gun aimed at both men. "Get down immediately, hands behind your heads!"

Chapter 330 Risking one's life to investigate Black Hawk!

The two bodyguards exchanged a glance, seemingly evaluating the possibility of continued resistance, but seeing their leader subdued, they finally decided to surrender.

They slowly put down their weapons and lay on the ground.

Lynn quickly handcuffed Cruz and then checked his condition.

The Mutant Security Director was still breathing steadily, merely temporarily unconscious.

Lynn removed his other glove, and after careful inspection, found intricate electronic equipment and some kind of energy focusing system inside.

"This isn't a Mutant ability," Lynn realized, "this is technology.

High-tech weapon systems, possibly based on some kind of energy control technology."

Ethan emerged from his hiding spot, looking both shocked and curious, "So he's not a Mutant?"

"No," Lynn confirmed, "this is some kind of advanced weapon system developed by Black Hawk, likely based on the technology they were researching on Tornali Island."

Ethan looked both relieved and somewhat disappointed, "I spent months investigating the connection between Mutants and Black Hawk, and even received information from an informant that Black Hawk was developing weapons using Mutant abilities.

But I didn't expect it to be this kind of technological imitation."

Lynn recalled the mysterious car Ethan got into outside the coffee shop earlier, "That informant, was he the one who brought you here?"

Ethan shook his head, his expression darkening, "No, that was my editor.

I told him I had a major discovery and planned to publish an investigative report on Black Hawk International and Mutants.

Then this morning, I received an anonymous message saying someone was willing to provide more evidence and told me to come to this address.

But when I arrived, Cruz and his men ambushed me."

George walked over, holding the weapons confiscated from the bodyguards, "I've already contacted for backup.

The team led by Agent Mark Wilson should arrive soon."

Just then, Police sirens wailed in the distance, and a team of FBI Agents and Police Officers stormed into the warehouse, quickly securing the entire area in standard tactical formation.

Mark walked at the forefront, and upon seeing Lynn, a clear look of relief appeared on his face.

"Detective Hall," he hurried over, "Gwen told us the situation might be dangerous.

It seems you've already got things under control."

Lynn nodded, pointing to the subdued Cruz and his subordinates, "This is Black Hawk International's Security Director, Victor Cruz.

They kidnapped this reporter, trying to lure me into their ranks."

Mark immediately motioned for his team to take the suspects away, then turned to Lynn, "Are you hurt? What about George?"

"We're all fine," Lynn replied, then pointed to Ethan, "But Mr. Redlich needs a medical check-up; he was beaten."

Mark nodded and immediately arranged for medical personnel to attend to Ethan.

As the surrounding Agents busied themselves with processing the scene and the suspects, Lynn walked towards Ethan, who was still sitting on a folding chair.

"Thank you," Ethan said sincerely, though his face still showed fatigue and pain, "If it weren't for you, I might have…"

Lynn waved his hand to interrupt him, "No need to thank me.

I'm just doing my job."

He paused, his expression growing heavier, "I must apologize to you, Mr. Redlich.

My attitude towards you at the coffee shop was not friendly enough.

I misjudged your intentions."

Ethan shook his head and smiled slightly, "No, your caution was right.

In our line of work, maintaining skepticism is key to survival.

And," his expression grew more serious, "considering what happened today, I understand why you would be so wary of discussing Mutant topics."

Lynn thought for a moment, then made a decision, "When you recover, perhaps we can talk again.

Not as an Agent and a reporter, but as two people concerned with the truth."

Ethan's eyes lit up, "I look forward to it.

I believe the public has a right to know the true nature of organizations like Black Hawk International, and how they use technology and lies to create panic and division."

Lynn nodded in agreement, "But the premise is to ensure the reporting is accurate and doesn't exacerbate prejudice against Mutants due to fear or speculation."

"Of course," Ethan responded seriously, "that's precisely what I've always tried to avoid.

My column has always tried to present various viewpoints, promoting understanding rather than division."

Lynn recalled Gwen's description of Ethan's work and realized she might have been right—Ethan was indeed a journalist with ethical standards, dedicated to presenting the truth rather than merely pursuing sensationalism.

Medical personnel arrived to examine Ethan, and Lynn left them, walking towards Mark, who was on the phone with Deputy Director Clayton.

"Officer," Mark handed Lynn his phone, "Deputy Director Clayton wants to speak with you."

Lynn took the phone, "Hall reporting, Officer."

"Detective Hall," Clayton's voice came through the phone, "I just received the preliminary report.

It seems you've gotten into trouble again during your vacation, haven't you?"

Lynn tried to explain, "Officer, this is related to Black Hawk International.

They kidnapped a reporter, trying to lure me into their ranks."

"I know," Clayton interrupted him, "Agent Wilson has already briefed me on the situation.

While your actions were not by the book, the outcome was correct.

We captured a high-ranking Black Hawk executive, which will help us further investigate their network."

"Thank you, Officer," Lynn felt a slight relief, "Regarding the special operations team?"

Clayton's voice grew more serious, "We will formally establish the team tomorrow.

Considering today's events, it's clear that Black Hawk is more dangerous and complex than we imagined.

They are not only conducting illegal experiments but also developing advanced weapon systems, possibly based on technology imitating Mutant abilities.

We need to take action as soon as possible."

"Understood, Officer.

I'll be ready."

After hanging up, Lynn walked towards George, who was talking with several FBI Agents.

Seeing Lynn approach, George ended his conversation and turned to his adopted son.

"It seems my old Police instincts haven't completely faded," George said jokingly, but his eyes were full of pride, "Even in retirement, I can still help out at critical moments."

Lynn smiled and patted his adopted father's shoulder, "Your appearance was a crucial turning point.

If it weren't for the distraction you created, I might not have been able to subdue Cruz."

George's expression grew serious, "That glove technology… can it really mimic Mutant abilities?"

Lynn nodded, "It appears so.

This might be part of Black Hawk's research results from Tornali Island.

They are not only attempting to create super soldiers but also developing weapon systems that can mimic specific Mutant abilities."

"This is a dangerous path," George commented, "The consequences of such technology falling into the hands of Terrorists would be disastrous."

"Precisely why we must completely dismantle Black Hawk's network," Lynn said firmly, "Not just to stop their illegal experiments, but also to prevent the proliferation of these dangerous technologies."

They walked out of the warehouse, the sunlight on their faces feeling unusually warm and bright, a stark contrast to the tense standoff in the dimly lit warehouse just moments before.

"You know," George suddenly said, "my impression of that young reporter has changed.

He risked his life to investigate Black Hawk, which takes courage."

Lynn nodded, looking at Ethan, who was receiving treatment, "Yes, mine too.

Gwen might be right—he is a principled journalist, concerned with truth and public interest."

"You should apologize to Gwen," George suggested, half-jokingly, half-seriously, "She'll be mad at you for a while because of how you treated her friend earlier."

Lynn chuckled, "I will.

But first, I need to call her and let her know we're all okay.

She must be frantic right now."

As Lynn expected, when he dialed Gwen's number, she answered almost immediately, her voice filled with anxiety and worry, "Lynn? Are you okay? What about George? How's Ethan?"

"Everyone's fine," Lynn chuckled.

Gwen immediately sighed in relief, "That's good."

With that, Gwen nagged a few more sentences before hanging up the phone.

Although Lynn wanted to go home for dinner, the complexity of today's events meant he had to return to the precinct to oversee the case personally.

The night passed without incident.

The next day.

The morning sun streamed through the blinds, illuminating Lynn Hall's tired face.

Last night's rescue operation left faint dark circles under his eyes, but he still woke up on time and put on his signature dark blue suit.

"What exactly did they want from Ethan?" Lynn muttered to himself, picking up his FBI badge from the nightstand and solemnly attaching it to his waist.

Lynn's apartment was located in an unassuming old building in New York City's downtown, small but neat and orderly.

In the kitchen, only a coffee machine was working, emitting a faint hum.

He poured a cup of black coffee and stood by the window, overlooking the awakening city.

After drinking the last sip of coffee, Lynn picked up his car keys and left the apartment.

He drove a low-key black Ford, heading towards Ethan's studio in Brooklyn.

The car radio was playing the latest news: "Continuing to report on last night's explosion in Harlem, witnesses claimed to have seen Hulk at the scene, causing extensive property damage.

Authorities are currently…"

Lynn frowned and reached out to turn off the radio.

News about Hulk had been overwhelming recently, with mainstream media almost unanimously portraying him as a dangerous monster, a threat that needed to be controlled or even eliminated.

But Lynn, as a law enforcement Officer, was accustomed to seeking evidence rather than blindly accepting propaganda.

The streets of Brooklyn were narrower than Manhattan, lined with old buildings adorned with graffiti art, exuding an artistic vibe.

Ethan's studio was located in one such five-story red-brick building, with a small coffee shop on the ground floor, emanating an inviting coffee aroma.

Lynn parked his car across the street and observed his surroundings for a while.

As a trained FBI Agent, this was his habit.

After confirming nothing was amiss, he walked towards the building and pushed open the coffee shop's glass door.

"Good morning," a bearded young barista greeted him with a smile, "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you," Lynn politely replied, pointing upstairs, "I'm here to see Ethan Blake."

"Oh, Ethan? Fourth floor, on the left, he's usually busy by now.

That guy barely sleeps, you know?" the barista said amiably.

Lynn nodded his thanks, then walked towards the adjacent staircase.

The building had no elevator, and the narrow stairwell smelled of a mix of wood and paint.

With each step he climbed, Lynn's questions grew.

What exactly was Ethan researching? Why was Black Hawk International so eager to capture him?

Arriving on the fourth floor, Lynn gently knocked on the studio door on the left.

A simple wooden plaque hung on the door, engraved with "Ethan Blake - Independent Investigative Journalist."

No response.

Lynn knocked again, this time a bit harder.

"Ethan? It's me, Lynn Hall."

Still no response, but he could hear faint sounds of electronic equipment running and paper rustling inside.

Lynn tried the doorknob and found the door unlocked.

He hesitated for a moment, considering yesterday's events, Ethan might be in danger.

As an FBI Agent, he decided to enter and check the situation.

"Ethan? I'm coming in." Lynn said as he slowly pushed the door open.

The studio was larger than he expected but extremely messy.

All sorts of equipment, documents, and photos covered almost every surface.

The walls were covered with photos, newspaper clippings, and maps, connected by red lines, forming a complex network.

The air was filled with the smell of coffee and paper, and several computers were running simultaneously, their screens flickering with various data and news footage.

In the center of this chaos, Ethan Blake stood with his back to the door, fully engrossed in a particular wall, completely unaware of Lynn's arrival.

That wall was covered with reports and photos of Hulk, and unlike the other walls, these clippings seemed to be meticulously organized, forming some kind of timeline.

Ethan was a young man in his twenties, tall and slender, with messy brown hair that looked like it hadn't been styled in days.

He wore a crumpled plaid shirt and jeans, with old sneakers on his feet.

The desk was piled with empty coffee cups and energy drink cans, indicating he had been working for a long time.

Lynn cleared his throat, "Ethan?"

Ethan spun around abruptly, his eyes wide with surprise, but quickly relaxed.

"Lynn! Oh my God, you scared me."

He gave a tired but sincere smile, "Sorry, I was too focused, didn't hear the knock."

Lynn noticed the obvious dark circles under Ethan's eyes, and the stubble on his cheeks showed he indeed hadn't rested well for days.

"Looks like you haven't slept all night." Lynn said, his gaze sweeping the room, instinctively assessing the environment.

Ethan shrugged, "Sleep is a luxury that can be sacrificed, especially when you're chasing what might be the scoop of the century."

He turned to a coffee machine, "Want a cup of coffee? It's not fancy, but it'll keep you awake."

Chapter 331 He's not some monster, he's some kind of hero!

"No, thank you," Lynn said, walking closer to the Hulkwall and carefully examining the photos and reports. "I see you're very interested in the Hulk."

Ethan's eyes lit up with the kind of sparkle someone gets when talking about something they love. "More than just interested, Lynn. I believe the mainstream media's coverage of him is completely off track." He quickly walked to the wall, pointing to a series of photos. "Look at these. Every time the Hulk appears, the media focuses on the destruction and panic, but no one notices these details."

Lynn followed Ethan's finger, looking at photos showing the Hulk in various scenes: a collapsed building, a large fire, a flood. But what Ethan specifically highlighted were the easily overlooked details: the Hulk shielding a child from danger, throwing an exploding tanker truck into an empty river, using his body to block a collapsing wall to protect the crowd below.

"You think he's helping humans?" Lynn asked, his voice carrying professional skepticism, but a flicker of interest in his eyes.

"I don't just think, I'm certain." Ethan quickly went to his computer and brought up a video file. "Watch this. This is footage I hacked from a security camera; the mainstream media has never broadcast it."

The video showed the Hulk in the ruins after an explosion, carefully moving concrete blocks to rescue buried survivors. Most striking was the Hulk's expression when a little girl was rescued: not the savage ferocity people imagined a Beast would have, but full of concern and tenderness.

"He has consciousness, emotions, moral judgment," Ethansaid excitedly. "He's not some monster, he's... some kind of hero."

Lynn watched the screen thoughtfully, then looked around the entire studio. "Is this why Black Hawk International wants to catch you? Because you have this information?"

Ethan's expression turned serious. "Not just this." He walked to another corner of the studio where there was a locked filing cabinet. He took a key from his pocket, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a thick folder. "This is the result of my investigation into Black Hawk International. On the surface, they're a private security company, but in reality—"

He opened the folder, which contained a large number of documents, photos, and USB drives. "They're a secret paramilitary organization that specializes in hunting and researching superpowered individuals. I have evidence that they're not just 'researching'; they're experimenting, experimenting on humans."

Lynn took the folder and flipped through the contents, his professional habits allowing him to quickly grasp the key information. There were blueprints of Black Hawk facilities, personnel lists, financial flows, and disturbing medical reports and experiment records.

"How did you get these?" Lynn asked, a hint of wariness in his voice. The way these materials were obtained might not be entirely legal.

Ethan scratched his head awkwardly. "I have my methods. As an investigative reporter, sometimes you have to be creative in obtaining information. But I can assure you, this is all real."

Lynn frowned but didn't press further. As an FBI Agent, he understood the necessity of gray areas sometimes, especially when facing a potentially massive conspiracy. "So they caught you yesterday to prevent this information from going public?"

"Yes, but I think there's more." Ethan walked back to the Hulk wall. "I believe Black Hawk is actively hunting the Hulk, not to protect the public, but to study him, to replicate his abilities. Imagine an army of warriors like the Hulk, completely controlled by a private organization. That would be—"

"Catastrophic," Lynn finished his sentence, his expression solemn. As a law enforcement officer, he knew all too well the danger of power being abused.

Ethan nodded. "Exactly. And I think they're close to succeeding. According to my investigation, Black Hawk recently received a huge secret fund for a project codenamed 'Emerald Fist'. I couldn't confirm the specific details, but chronologically, it highly coincides with the Hulk's recent appearances."

"Have you ever considered," Lynn began slowly, "that perhaps the Hulk is connected to someone? Some ordinary person?"

Ethan's eyes lit up. "You think so too! Yes, I have this theory." He turned to another wall where a series of photos were posted, all of the same person: a thin, seemingly nervous scientist. "Dr. Bruce Banner, a top scientist in the field of gamma radiation. He mysteriously disappeared after a lab accident, just before the Hulk first appeared."

Lynn leaned in to examine Banner's photo. "You think he is the Hulk? Or has some kind of connection to the Hulk?"

"I'm almost certain," Ethan said. "The problem is, I don't have direct evidence. Only a lot of circumstantial evidence and coincidences, too many coincidences for it to just be a coincidence."

Lynn thought for a moment. "If you're right, then Black Hawk International doesn't just want to capture the Hulk, they also want Dr. Banner."

"Exactly!" Ethan said excitedly. "And I think they already know Banner's identity and are hunting him. That's why I have to make this information public as quickly as possible, to warn Banner and let the public know the truth."

Lynn looked at the determination and passion in the young man's eyes, and couldn't help but think of himself when he was younger, that simple fervor for fighting for justice. But years of FBI experience also made him understand that things were often more complicated than they appeared on the surface.

"Ethan," Lynn said seriously, "do you realize you're getting involved in a potentially very dangerous situation? Black Hawk International clearly has the resources and determination to pursue you, and they won't give up because of yesterday's failure."

Ethan took a deep breath, his expression firm. "I know the risks, Lynn. But that's a reporter's job, isn't it? To expose the truth, no matter the cost."

Lynn had to admire his courage, although he also thought it was a bit reckless. "So what's your plan?"

Ethan walked to a special computer and entered a complex password. "I'm preparing a complete report, including all the evidence and my findings. Once it's finished, I'll release it simultaneously on multiple platforms to ensure the information spreads quickly and cannot be completely blocked."

The screen displayed a nearly finished article, titled "The Hulk: A Misunderstood Hero and the Conspiracy Hunting Him."

Lynn browsed the beginning of the article, which was detailed and powerful. "Your writing is very persuasive, but are you sure all of this is fact?"

"Every detail has been cross-referenced," Ethan replied confidently. "I might sometimes take shortcuts to get information, but when it comes to factual accuracy, I never compromise."

Just as Lynn was about to ask more questions, a rapid knocking interrupted them. Ethan and Lynn exchanged a wary look.

"Are you expecting someone?" Lynn asked in a low voice, instinctively putting his hand on the gun at his waist.

Ethan shook his head. "No."

Lynn motioned for Ethan to move to the corner of the room, then cautiously approached the door. "Who is it?" he asked loudly.

"Ethan? It's me, Gwen!" a female voice called from outside the door.

Lynn breathed a sigh of relief, recognizing his sister's voice. He opened the door, and Gwen Hall stood there, her blonde curly hair a bit messy from running, her blue eyes full of worry. She was wearing simple jeans and a white T-shirt, with a leather jacket over it, and carrying a heavy-looking backpack.

"Lynn?" Gwen was surprised to see her brother, then quickly entered the room and closed the door. "Great, you're here too. Is Ethan okay?"

Ethan came out of the corner. "I'm fine, Gwen, thanks to your brother."

Gwen quickly walked up to Ethan and gave him a tight hug. "I heard what happened yesterday, I was terrified!"

Lynn watched their interaction, noticing a closeness between them that seemed to go beyond ordinary friendship. After Gwen released Ethan, she turned to Lynn. "Thank you for saving him, brother."

Lynn nodded. "Just doing my job. But how did you know about yesterday? I hadn't had a chance to tell you."

Gwen and Ethan exchanged a look, a bit hesitant. Finally, Gwen spoke. "Because I'm also involved in Ethan's investigation."

Lynn's expression immediately turned serious. "What? Gwen, do you know how dangerous this is?"

"Of course I know!" Gwen said firmly. "But this is important, Lynn. People need to know the truth. And I'm not just helping—I have my own professional contribution."

Ethan explained. "Gwen is my data analyst. She helped me crack some of Black Hawk's encrypted files; without her, I wouldn't have gotten this much information."

Lynn looked at his sister, unsure whether to be angry or proud for a moment. Gwen was always exceptionally intelligent, with extraordinary talent in computer science, but Lynn had never imagined she would use these skills for such a dangerous endeavor.

"You two," Lynn said seriously, "do you realize you've attracted the attention of a dangerous organization? The people yesterday were well-equipped and well-trained. If I hadn't arrived in time—"

"But you did arrive," Gwen interrupted him. "And now we're being more careful. We've taken extra security measures." She took a laptop from her backpack. "And I brought more findings."

Ethan leaned in excitedly. "You cracked those files?"

Gwen smiled triumphantly. "Not all of them, but enough to see some interesting things." She quickly started the computer, entered a complex password, and then brought up several files. "These are Black Hawk International's internal communication records. They are indeed hunting Dr. Bruce Banner, and they seem to have a specialized team, codenamed 'Hunter', responsible for this task."

Lynn leaned over to look at the screen, his brows furrowed. The files mentioned a project called "Gamma Project," clearly related to replicating the Hulk's abilities. "What is this 'Emerald Fist' project?" he asked, pointing to a recurring codename.

Gwen and Ethan exchanged a worried look. "Based on our speculation," Ethan said, "this is a project aimed at creating controlled Hulk-like creatures. They've been experimenting on prisoners and... volunteers."

"What were the results?" Lynn asked, although he already guessed the answer.

Gwen's expression turned grim. "Most experiments failed, resulting in the subjects' death or severe deformities. But recent records indicate they might have achieved a breakthrough."

Lynn stood up and paced back and forth in the studio, considering all the information.

"What are you planning to do?" Lynn finally asked.

"Go public with everything," Ethan said firmly. "I've almost finished the entire report. Once it's released, Black Hawk won't be able to continue operating in the shadows."

"But that will make you public targets," Lynn pointed out.

Gwen chimed in. "We have a plan. Once the information is released, we'll immediately move to a safe place. I've set up an encrypted communication system that only we know how to access."

Lynn looked at his sister and Ethan, the idealism shining in the eyes of the two young people. He wanted to stop them, to protect them from danger, but he also understood that some things were worth risking.

"Show me all your evidence," Lynn finally decided. "If it's truly as you say, I might be able to initiate an investigation through official channels."

Ethan's eyes lit up. "You'll help us?"

"I will act based on the evidence," Lynn replied cautiously. "If Black Hawk is indeed conducting illegal human experiments, then yes, I will use the FBI's resources to investigate them."

Gwen excitedly hugged her brother. "Thank you, Lynn! I knew you'd understand."

Lynn hugged his sister back, but his expression remained serious. He turned to Ethan. "But I have a condition. Before your report is published, I need to review it. I need to make sure you haven't included information that would directly endanger your lives."

Ethan considered it for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "Fair request."

The three of them went through all the evidence in detail. Gwen showed the encrypted files she had obtained from Black Hawk's servers, Ethan shared his investigation notes and interview records, and Lynn provided professional analysis and advice, pointing out which evidence would stand up in court and which needed strengthening.

"This connection is important," Lynn said, pointing to a document. "Black Hawk's contract with the Militaryproves that government funds were used for the 'Emerald Fist' project. This isn't just a private company's misconduct; it could involve corruption in government departments."

Ethan quickly took notes on Lynn's suggestions while reorganizing the structure of his report. Gwen continued to decrypt more files, occasionally letting out excited gasps.

"Lynn, look at this!" Gwen suddenly exclaimed. "I found Bruce Banner's complete file. Black Hawk definitely knows he is the Hulk!"

Lynn and Ethan immediately leaned in to look. The screen displayed a detailed file, including Banner's personal history, scientific achievements, and a detailed report of the gamma radiation accident that changed everything. The file explicitly stated that Banner would transform into the Hulk under stress or anger. 

Chapter 332 Act according to your own plan!

"Oh my god, this is the last piece of the puzzle," Ethanmurmured. "They not only know Banner's identity, but also understand the mechanism of his transformation. This is why they were able to develop the 'Emerald Fist' project—they are studying how to control this transformation."

Lynn frowned as he read the document. "According to this report, Black Hawk has already mastered Banner's movement patterns and expects him to be somewhere in the city." He looked out the window; the overcast sky grew darker, and a heavy rain was imminent. "They might be hunting him in the city."

Gwen suddenly stood up. "We need to warn him. If Black Hawk captures Banner, they will have everything they need to complete 'Emerald Fist.'"

"But we don't know where he is," Ethan said dejectedly.

Lynn thought for a moment, then said, "Perhaps we can use the media. Not a full report, but a targeted warning, enough to make Banner understand the danger without revealing too much information to Black Hawk."

Ethan's eyes lit up. "An encoded message, hidden in a seemingly ordinary report! Banner is a scientist; he'll understand."

Just as they were discussing the details of the plan, a piercing alarm sound came from Gwen's computer. "Someone is trying to hack into my security system," she said nervously, her fingers flying across the keyboard. "They are trying to track our location."

Lynn immediately went on alert. "Black Hawk found us. We need to leave immediately." He pulled out his pistol and checked the magazine.

Ethan quickly copied his main investigation data to several encrypted USB drives, then deleted the original files from his computer. "Gwen, how long can you delay them?"

Gwen stared intently at the screen. "Maybe a few minutes. I'm activating anti-tracking procedures, but their technology is advanced."

Lynn walked to the window, carefully lifting a small part of the blinds to look outside. A black van was parked across the street, and several figures could be seen inside. "They are already outside," he said grimly.

Ethan quickly distributed the USB drives to everyone. "Plan B. We split up, each taking a copy of the data. Even if someone gets caught, the others can expose the truth."

Lynn didn't like the plan, but he had to admit it was the most reasonable choice. "Gwen, you come with me. Ethan, you know this building; is there a back door or another exit?"

"There's a fire escape that leads to the back alley," Ethanquickly replied, stuffing the remaining important documents into his backpack. "You can get directly to the fire escape from the kitchen window."

Lynn nodded, making a swift decision. "Alright, let's go. Gwen, shut down your devices and only take what's necessary."

Gwen quickly typed a few keys, activating a program. "I've set up a data bomb that will completely wipe all traces and give their system a little 'surprise' when they try to further invade." She closed her laptop and put it into her backpack.

Ethan took a hurried last look at his studio, which held months of his investigation results and countless sleepless nights. Now, everything could be destroyed. He took a deep breath, grabbed his backpack, and followed Lynn and Gwen to the kitchen area.

The kitchen was the most inconspicuous part of the studio, small and simple, with only a microwave and a coffee maker. Ethan walked to the window and pushed open a window almost completely obscured by clutter. The fire escape outside looked old and rusty, but it was sturdy enough to support their escape.

"I'll go first," Lynn said, his gun still in hand. "Make sure it's safe outside, then you two follow." He agilely climbed out the window, landing lightly on the fire escape, the metal creaking softly.

Lynn carefully looked around, confirming that the back alley was temporarily clear of enemies. "Clear, quickly!" He gestured to the window.

Gwen followed closely, moving more nimbly than expected; she was clearly more than just a computer genius. Ethan was the last one, and just as he climbed out the window, they heard the sound of the studio's front door being forced open, accompanied by heavy footsteps.

"They're in!" Ethan whispered, speeding up his descent.

The three quickly climbed down the fire escape, trying to be both fast and quiet. When they reached the second floor, Lynn suddenly stopped, signaling them to remain silent. From the window above, they could see several fully armed men in black searching Ethan's studio, their movements well-trained, clearly professionals.

"Black Hawk Agents," Lynn whispered. "They are even better equipped than yesterday."

Gwen bit her lip nervously. "Will they follow us down?"

Lynn shook his head. "Not sure yet. Keep moving, but stay quiet."

The three continued their descent, finally reaching the ground in the back alley. The alley was narrow and dirty, with towering brick walls on both sides, and trash and puddles scattered on the ground. The distant hum of the city could be heard, but this corner was surprisingly quiet.

"What now?" Ethan asked, his voice slightly trembling with tension.

Lynn thought for a moment, then made a decision. "We need to distract them." He took his car keys from his pocket and handed them to Ethan. "My car is across the street, a black Ford. You and Gwen go first, drive north, find a crowded public place, then abandon the car and switch to public transport."

Gwen frowned. "What about you?"

"I'll create some chaos to draw their attention and buy you time." Lynn's expression was firm and unyielding. "Then we'll meet at the FBI's safe house. Gwen, you know the one near the Hudson River, right?"

Gwen nodded, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. That was a safe location Lynn had told her about during a family emergency years ago, a secret place known only to a few FBI Agents.

"But," Ethan hesitated, "it's too dangerous for you to face them alone."

Lynn smiled slightly, exuding a confidence that only someone who had experienced countless dangerous situations would possess. "This is my area of expertise, Ethan. Don't worry, I'll shake them off." He checked his phone. "No calls, no texts; all electronic communication might be monitored. Just meet at the safe house. If I don't arrive before sunset, you proceed with your own plan."

Gwen hugged her brother tightly. "Be careful," she whispered in his ear.

Lynn hugged her back, then nodded to Ethan. "Protect her."

Ethan nodded solemnly. "With my life."

Lynn turned and quickly disappeared into the other end of the back alley, heading in the opposite direction from the parking spot. Ethan and Gwen exchanged glances, took a deep breath, and then moved towards the street.

As they cautiously peered out of the alley, they saw the black van still parked there, but it seemed to be empty now. Ethan squeezed the car keys in his hand. "Ready?"

Gwen nodded, her expression determined. "Let's go."

They pretended to be ordinary pedestrians, walking unhurriedly towards the black Ford across the street. Just as they approached the car, a loud explosion came from a few blocks away, followed by sirens and the screams of a crowd.

"Lynn," Gwen whispered, a complex mix of worry and admiration flashing in her eyes.

Taking advantage of the chaos, they quickly got into the car. Ethan started the engine and smoothly drove into the busy streets of New York. Through the rearview mirror, they saw several men in black rushing out of the building and running towards the sound of the explosion.

"Your brother is really something," Ethan said as he drove, trying to ease the tension.

Gwen smiled faintly, but her eyes still held worry. "He's always been like this, ever since we were kids. Always protecting others, never considering his own safety."

Ethan drove along the planned route, maintaining a normal speed to avoid drawing attention. The streets of New York were as crowded as usual, which ironically became their cover. They passed several traffic lights, making sure no suspicious vehicles were following them, then drove north.

"That safe house," Ethan asked after a period of silence, "how safe is it?"

Gwen considered her words. "Safe enough. It's a secret base Lynn uses during field missions, known only to a few trusted colleagues. It doesn't exist in official records, and its funding comes from a special secret budget."

"Sounds like something out of a movie," Ethan chuckled bitterly.

Gwen shrugged. "The FBI sometimes is like a movie, just usually not as glamorous."

They continued driving north, eventually stopping near a busy shopping center. Following Lynn's instructions, they parked the car in an inconspicuous corner of the parking lot, took all their belongings, and blended into the crowd of the shopping center.

"Where to now?" Ethan asked, his eyes vigilantly scanning their surroundings.

Gwen pointed to a subway entrance. "We'll take the subway, then transfer a few times to make sure no one is following us. The safe house is in Chelsea, in a very ordinary-looking apartment building."

For the next two hours, they constantly switched public transportation, sometimes taking the subway, sometimes riding buses, and even briefly using a shared bicycle. Throughout the process, they remained vigilant, observing whether there were any trackers.

When they finally arrived in Chelsea, the sky was already beginning to darken. Overcast skies heralded an impending downpour, and pedestrians on the street quickened their pace, trying to get indoors before the rain came.

"This is it," Gwen said, standing in front of an ordinary-looking old apartment building. The building's exterior was faded red brick, with ivy climbing in some places, looking at least fifty or sixty years old.

They walked into the lobby, and Gwen skillfully retrieved a spare key from a hidden corner, then led Ethan upstairs to a unit door on the fourth floor.

"You've been here before?" Ethan asked in surprise.

Gwen nodded. "A few years ago, during a family emergency. Lynn brought me here to hide for a few days." She didn't elaborate, but a shadow crossed her face, hinting that it might not have been a pleasant memory.

Gwen opened the door with the key, carefully pushed it open, and cautiously entered. The apartment interior was simple and practical, with not much decoration, but fully equipped: a small living room, an open kitchen, two bedrooms, and a room that looked like an office.

"Looks like no one's here," Gwen said, relaxing a bit. "Lynnshouldn't have arrived yet."

Ethan looked around, noticing some details: no photos or personal items on the walls, basic but good quality furniture. The windows showed signs of reinforcement, and the door locks were much more complex than those of an ordinary apartment. The entire space gave a temporary but secure feeling.

"Is there a surveillance system here?" he asked.

Gwen walked towards the office-like room. "Yes, and it's very advanced." She turned on the room's lights, revealing the equipment inside: several computers, monitors, and various communication devices. "This is Lynn's command center. From here, he can securely contact FBI Headquarters, access databases, and even monitor the situation in the surrounding few blocks."

Ethan looked at the equipment in awe. "Your brother is really well-prepared."

Gwen sat in front of one of the computers and began to boot up the system. "In his career, Lynn has seen too many tragedies due to lack of preparation. He always says, 'It's better to prepare a hundred times and not need it, than to need it once and not be prepared.'"

After the system started, Gwen quickly entered a complex password, then began to check the safe house's status and the surrounding environment. "Good news, the security system shows no unusual activity. Bad news is, we still don't know Lynn's situation."

Ethan put down his backpack and began to examine the materials he had brought. "Should we wait for him? Or start preparing to release the information?"

Gwen bit her lip, thinking for a moment. "We'll organize the data first and prepare the content for release. Lynnsaid that if he didn't arrive before sunset, we should proceed with our own plan. But I believe he will come."

Ethan nodded and began to spread out his notes and documents on the living room table. Gwen continued to work on the computer, setting up encrypted communication channels and preparing platforms for releasing information.

Outside, the sky grew darker, and rain began to patter, tapping against the windows. The indoor lights illuminated their focused faces, and time passed minute by minute, but Lynn still did not appear.

"It's almost sunset," Ethan whispered, looking out the window.

Gwen stopped her work and walked to the window, looking out at the rainy street with worry. "He'll come. He always keeps his promises."

Just then, a faint sound came from the apartment's door lock. Both of them immediately became alert. Gwenquickly took a pistol from a drawer, and Ethan grabbed a kitchen knife. They hid on either side of the door, ready to face any potential threat.

The door slowly opened, and a soaking wet figure walked in.

"Lynn!" Gwen recognized her brother and immediately put down her weapon, rushing forward.

Lynn looked exhausted, his clothes soaked, and a few scratches on his face, but he smiled at his sister. "Told you I'd come."

Ethan sighed in relief, putting down the kitchen knife. "You look like you've been through a tough fight."