The FBI's Dilemma
Seven people simultaneously plummeting from a high-rise building—the resulting thud was sickeningly loud.
Chaos erupted below. The agents responsible for logistics rushed forward to check on the wounded.
The results were dire.
Two agents died instantly upon impact, their heads striking the ground. The other five were barely clinging to life.
Mike Gray was shocked and terrified. As a special agent for the FBI, he knew that the higher-ups had been secretly monitoring an incredibly dangerous alien girl.
It was rumored that the girl possessed a physical body as tough as super-alloy, an immeasurable upper limit of strength, extreme speed far exceeding the speed of sound, ultimate senses incomprehensible to humans, and super-vision that could see through anything.
Her body was covered in an invisible bio-magnetic field that could repel most attacks; even missiles couldn't cause her the slightest harm.
A being like that was practically a god.
She was ranked first on the FBI's blacklist, her danger level far exceeding the League of Assassins, which was responsible for countless heinous incidents.
Mike had often wondered why this girl was so terrifying. Today, he finally saw it: in just one second, she had eliminated seven elite operatives with a speed so fast that the cameras couldn't even capture it clearly.
What was even more infuriating was that after killing these people, she casually lay down on the bed to sleep.
"Damn it!"
Mike gnashed his teeth in hatred. Ordinary methods wouldn't work; they had to resort to psychic metahumans.
Psychics were notoriously rare. The entire FBI had only three: one was constantly tied up at the headquarters; another, responsible for monitoring this very target, had vanished; and the last one was Allie, the white-eyed girl from the Anomalous Cases Division (ACD).
Thinking of Allie made his head ache again.
After the Gotham incident, the ACD's behavior had become abnormal, especially Emily Song. She had shed her previous naive and sweet image, becoming powerful and cunning. On one hand, she used the merit from the Gotham mission to pressure the higher-ups for a better position; on the other, she rallied other metahumans to form a Metahuman Guild to ensure that super-powered agents had the right to fair treatment.
Thanks to her relentless efforts, 80% of the metahuman agents had joined the Guild. A group composed entirely of metahumans—it was impossible not to realize the terrible power it held.
Metahumans were a crucial card for the FBI. Many tasks that couldn't be handled by conventional means were resolved by them. If the FBI lost this force, its governing power would be significantly reduced.
Yet, giving them power was akin to planting an uncontrollable seed. No one knew what that seed would grow into.
The higher-ups were hesitant, attempting to solve the problem with money, but the Guild refused to give them an opening, expressing their dissatisfaction through strikes, media leaks, and resignations.
Under Emily's call, regular agents also joined in, uniting to pressure the higher-ups, even suggesting: if the FBI didn't resolve the fairness issue, they would propose to Congress the establishment of a S.H.I.E.L.D.-like agency specifically for supernatural cases.
Mike wondered which bastard was advising Emily, as the plan was a seamless series of interconnected steps, catching them off guard and leaving them with no room to retreat.
His deputy, Daniel, whispered, "Another one just died."
Mike Gray snapped back to reality. Annoyed, he said,
"Contact Emily. Tell them to come over immediately."
Daniel nodded, took out his phone, and dialed Emily's number. After a brief conversation, he said awkwardly,
"Sir, Emily replied that they are protesting the unfair treatment and cannot report for duty."
"The house is on fire, and they're still striking!"
Mike snatched the phone, but before he could speak, a dial tone sounded in his ear.
The call had been hung up.
That girl actually hung up on him!
As a senior executive in the center of power, he had been hung up on by a low-ranking female agent.
What did this mean?
Mike Gray bowed his head in contemplation, utterly baffled.
"Sir..."
Mike raised his hand, stopping his deputy. He walked alone to the corner of the room and dialed Emily's number again. No one knew what he said or what conditions he agreed to, but when he returned, his expression was as calm as stagnant water in a deep pool—not a ripple disturbed it.
"Daniel, organize a team. Seal off the scene immediately. Confiscate the communication devices of non-essential personnel. We must minimize the impact of this incident."
"Understood, sir."
The Guild's Risky Bargain
Meanwhile, in an office in Washington D.C., Josie, temporarily acting as the Guild's Vice President, said anxiously,
"Em, what did Mike Gray say?"
Emily put down her phone, her face grim. "He agreed. The condition is to control the girl. If we can't control her, we are to execute her immediately."
"Bastard! Scum! They're clearly setting us up."
Angus, the sharp-headed agent, gnashed his teeth and roared, "That girl is a freak! We can't handle her at all! Mike Gray knows this but is withholding the truth. He clearly wants to send us to our deaths."
"How can he do this!"
"All we want is fairness! Are we wrong? Why won't they give it to us?"
Hoarse voices echoed in the room, and the atmosphere became incredibly oppressive.
Some Guild members looked up, staring intently at the footage on the TV: a girl was punching an iceberg. Her small fist seemed to carry a nuclear warhead; one punch cracked the entire ice shelf.
That kind of power was too terrifying. It was impossible for metahumans to counter. Going there was suicide.
"Em, what do we do?"
Emily took a deep breath and said solemnly, "Since we agreed, we have to go. The FBI's duty is to uphold the law and protect national security. Besides, who else can deal with her?"
"But it's too dangerous."
"When is a mission not dangerous? Allie..." She turned to the white-eyed girl. "Can you control her?"
Allie hesitated for a few seconds, then shook her head.
"I haven't tried. I don't know."
"What about communication?"
"Communication shouldn't be a problem, but will she listen to us?"
Emily sighed. "We have to try."
After preparing, the group left Washington D.C. and headed for Metropolis.
The Next Escape
As a Kryptonian, Linda Danvers didn't need much rest. An hour was enough to restore her to full energy.
She grabbed a few cream-filled cakes from the fridge, eating them while glancing down at the scene below.
Knowing she had awakened, the FBI was on high alert, with logistical personnel visibly trembling.
"A bunch of useless people!"
The girl sneered dismissively, kicked through the wall, and leaped out, disappearing into the sky.
The people downstairs could only stare helplessly. They looked at each other—they couldn't fly, so what could they do?
Mike Gray furiously waved his arm, yet there was nothing he could do. Against that girl, they were as weak as ants. The power gap was too vast; they didn't even have a chance to talk, let alone fight.
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