Chapter 237 What do you want?
Lynn smiled faintly, took a banknote from his pocket, and gently placed it on the bar: "I just want to know if he's been here recently, or if anyone has heard his name."
The bartender didn't touch the banknote; instead, he leaned closer, his voice icy: "Listen, people here don't like being watched by the Police. If you're smart, you'll leave soon, otherwise I guarantee your drink will be on the floor very quickly."
Lynn showed no displeasure, just nodded slightly: "Understood." He picked up his glass, turned, and walked to an empty table in the corner, sitting down quietly to observe the movements in the bar.
About ten minutes later, a thin young man sat opposite him and whispered, "I heard you're looking for Flame Heart?"
Lynn's eyes lit up, and he nodded: "Yes. Do you know his whereabouts?"
The young man sneered and lowered his voice: "You really dare to come here looking for him? That name is taboo here; many people don't even dare to mention it."
"So why are you willing to talk to me?" Lynn looked directly at him, his gaze sharp.
The young man looked around, hesitated for a moment, and then said: "Because he harmed all of us. Every time he appears here, he brings trouble. The good days in the community were long ago disrupted by him. We just want to live quietly, but he always uses this place as his hiding spot, and as a result, everyone's lives are harder."
"Has he been here recently?" Lynn pressed.
The young man shook his head: "He hasn't been here for a while. The last time someone saw him was at the old factory outside the community, but he quickly disappeared. Some people also said he met with high-ranking members of 'Dawn,' but no one knows the specifics."
Lynn frowned: "Old factory? What's the exact location?"
The young man hesitated, then finally said: "The abandoned industrial zone at the intersection of Fifteenth Street and Hudson. But I warn you, that place is very dangerous; you might not come out if you go."
Lynn nodded his thanks. As he stood up, the young man grabbed his arm and whispered: "Don't think catching Flame Heart will change anything. He's just a pawn; the real problem is those who control him."
Lynn looked at him and said in a deep voice: "I know, but catching him is the first step."
The young man released his hand and watched Lynnleave the bar.
After leaving the bar, Lynn found that it was completely dark, and there were fewer pedestrians on the street. Even outside the Mutant community, he felt an invisible hostility, as if every wall in this area was resisting his presence. This distrust was deep and painful, reminding him that these Mutants lived in a forgotten World.
Lynn called Carter, briefly reported the situation at the bar, and instructed the task force to scout the industrial area. After hanging up, he looked up at the dilapidated buildings, his heart unable to calm down.
On the other side.
Kate's visit to the Mutant community did not start well. She walked into the community streets with her press pass and microphone, only to find that the hostility towards outsiders here was deeper than she had imagined. Pedestrians quickly avoided her as soon as they saw the microphone in her hand; some even turned and walked into alleys.
She took a deep breath, adjusted her expression, and walked straight into a small shop. The lights inside were dim, and the shelves were cluttered with various items, making it look like a hybrid of a convenience store and a repair shop. Behind the counter stood a middle-aged Mutant with distinct scaly skin features on his face. He looked up at Kate, his voice cold: "What do you want to buy?"
"Actually, I'm a reporter," Kate said carefully, placing her press pass on the counter. "I'm tracking the recent arson cases, and I heard these incidents are somewhat related to the Mutant community. I just want to understand some background."
The middle-aged man looked up at her face, remained silent for a moment, then said in a low voice: "Do you want to write an article that makes us look more like criminals?"
"No, I want to tell the truth," Kate looked directly at him, her tone sincere. "I know people here don't trust outsiders, and I know Mutants are often treated unfairly. But if someone is using this anger to harm innocent people, or even dragging people here into danger, don't you think that needs to be exposed?"
The man's gaze softened slightly, but he remained cautious: "What do you want to know?"
Kate lowered her voice: "I heard someone mentioned a Mutant named Flame Heart. He seems to be a key figure in some of the fires. I just want to know his relationship with this community and if he might be hiding here."
The man's expression stiffened; he was clearly sensitive to the name. He hesitated for a moment, then finally pointed a finger at an alley outside the window: "Go ask the old man at the old repair shop at the end of the street; he might know something. He doesn't like the Police, but he might say a few more words to you."
Kate nodded, thanked him, and then left the shop, following the directions to the repair shop. The repair shop was dilapidated, with several rusty cars parked outside the entrance. She pushed open the half-open iron door and found an old man with gray hair sitting inside, repairing an old engine with a wrench.
"Who are you?" The old man looked up at her, asking cautiously.
"I'm a reporter, Jane Bennett." She stood at the doorway, not approaching. "Someone told me you might know something about Flame Heart. I just want to understand the facts; I won't reveal your name."
The old man put down his wrench, looking at her with a complex expression: "Flame Heart? That guy only brings us trouble. He's not a hero here, even though some people worship him."
"Has he been here?" Kate asked tentatively.
The old man was silent for a moment, then finally nodded: "A few weeks ago, he stayed here for a while. He's always elusive, but I heard he might be hiding in the cargo warehouse at the East Docks recently; that place is remote, and no one wants to go there."
Kate quickly wrote down the address and said gratefully: "Thank you, I'll try to be careful and not let this information be misused."
After leaving the repair shop, Kate immediately called Lynn. She knew she was on a dangerous path, but she also knew this was the only chance to uncover the truth.
The call connected, and Lynn's voice carried a hint of caution: "Kate, did you find anything?"
"I just came out of the Mutant community," Kate said in a low voice. "Someone told me Flame Heart might be hiding in the cargo warehouse at the East Docks."
Lynn was silent for a moment, his tone growing more anxious: "You went and asked personally?"
"Yes, I know you don't approve, but it was the only way," Kate replied. "I had no other choice."
Lynn sighed: "Kate, you're taking too much risk. If these people know you're looking for him, it could be dangerous for you."
"That's why I told you the news immediately," Kate's voice remained firm. "I'll be careful, but you need to act quickly."
"Understood," Lynn said in a low voice. "Thank you for the lead; I'll handle things from here. Don't go near there again."
After hanging up, Kate stood on the street, looking towards the distant docks. Although she knew she had done her best, a strange worry surged in her heart.
Lynn led the task force to the cargo warehouse at the East Docks. Under the night sky, the docks appeared desolate and eerie, with only the occasional distant ship's horn breaking the silence. They carefully infiltrated the area around the warehouse, confirming there were no ambushes before taking action.
"Stay safe, check every corner carefully," Lynn ordered in a low voice. The team members quickly dispersed, meticulously searching the warehouse with tactical flashlights and weapons.
The inside of the warehouse was cluttered, with scattered cargo boxes and burn marks on the floor. A faint smell of sulfur still lingered in the air, indicating a connection to Flame Heart. But after several rounds of searching, Lynndiscovered a frustrating fact—the place was empty.
"Detective!" A Detective suddenly shouted. Lynn quickly walked over and found the team member stopped in front of a deliberately placed projection device. The screen glowed red, appearing to be a pre-recorded video.
Lynn frowned, signaling to play it. In the footage, Flame Heart's figure appeared against a dark background, his face eerily illuminated by the glow of Fire. A cold smile played on his lips as he spoke: "Agent Lynn, I knew you'd find this place, but you're always one step behind, aren't you?"
The team members exchanged glances, and Lynn's expression grew colder.
"You've been chasing the truth, but unfortunately, you haven't seen the bigger picture," Flame Heart continued in the video. "This is just the beginning. My friends and I are planning a real revolution, an action big enough to make the entire society tremble. And you—you're just a small law enforcer delusional enough to think he can stop the tide."
As he spoke, the cold smile on his face deepened: "If you want to stop us, go ahead and try. But I advise you to save your own life first; in the coming days, you'll be too busy to breathe."
The screen vanished in a flash of Fire, and the video abruptly ended.
Lynn was silent for a moment, then said in a low voice: "Immediately collect all clues here, especially anything that might point to their next plan. Time is running out."
The team members began sifting through the items in the warehouse, finding some abandoned equipment and fragmented documents. After the technician restored some of the documents, they found that one map was marked with several locations, one of which was in downtown Manhattan, with a date only two days away.
"Detective," Carter handed the map to Lynn, her expression serious. "They're clearly preparing for a large-scale operation, possibly in the city center."
Lynn looked at the map, his brows furrowed: "What's their target? There are too many critical facilities in the city center—financial centers, power stations, public transport hubs—any of which could cause massive destruction."
Carter nodded: "An attack on any of these places would be enough to throw the city into chaos. They're clearly testing us."
Lynn said in a deep voice: "We can't wait for them to act; we must strike first. Notify all departments to strengthen security at these locations, and have the technical team analyze the other marked points on this map as soon as possible."
Outside the warehouse, the wind kicked up dust from the docks, blowing against Lynn's coat. He stood in the cold wind, his eyes cold and determined. The opponent was clearly no longer satisfied with small-scale destruction but was preparing a major move that could change the situation. He had to nip everything in the bud before this storm arrived.
Just then, Lynn's phone vibrated; it was a message from Kate. She had clearly learned of the failed raid; the message contained only one sentence: "They're playing a bigger game now. Do we still have a chance to turn the tide?"
Lynn looked at the screen, silent for a moment, then replied: "As long as we're still acting, the storm won't swallow this city." He pressed send, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes.
On the other side.
Kate sat in her apartment, thick files and a laptop spread on her desk. The screen displayed an email from an anonymous source. The email included several documents showing shocking transaction records. These records indicated that behind the activities of the "Dawn" organization were the shadows of certain multinational corporations and political forces.
She carefully read the documents, discovering that a company named Keen Industries not only provided financial support to "Dawn" but also secretly supplied weapons, equipment, and advanced technology. And some executives of Keen Industries had multiple close contact records with several influential politicians in Manhattan. The documents even mentioned suggestive terms like "strategic coordination" and "balance of interests."
Kate's heart beat a little faster. She knew that if these documents were true, then the so-called "Dawn" organization was likely not just an extremist Mutantgroup but a tool controlled by certain political and business interest groups. They were manufacturing social panic through funding violent activities to achieve some ulterior motive.
She dialed the informant's number. The voice on the other end was low and tense: "I can only tell you this, Kate. If you continue to investigate, you'll find their true motives are far darker than you imagine."
"What do these people really want?" Kate pressed.
The other party hesitated, then whispered: "They hope to push for certain Mutant management laws so their companies can profit from them. More importantly, they need these violent incidents to make the public more afraid of Mutants."
Kate gripped her phone, her voice tinged with anger: "So, this isn't just about 'Dawn's' violence, but a complete game of public opinion manipulation?"
"You're right," the informant sighed. "But Kate, you need to be careful. These people aren't simple politicians and businessmen; they'll do whatever it takes to protect their interests."
After hanging up, Kate fell into deep thought. She quickly organized all the documents, trying to piece together the entire conspiracy from a more comprehensive perspective. However, the more she looked, the more shocked she became: these political and business forces were not only using "Dawn" but might even be pushing for deeper social division.
Chapter 238 Final Goal
Carter decided to relay this information to Lynn.
She dialed his number, her voice urgent: "Lynn, I just found out something very important.
There are bigger manipulators behind 'Dawn' who are using these violent incidents to gain political and economic benefits."
Lynn on the other end of the phone was silent for a moment, his tone becoming low and calm: "Carter, are you sure this information is reliable?"
"Yes, I have documents and records to substantiate it," Carter replied, "Keen Industries is the key.
They are funding 'Dawn' to push for certain policies and legislation, profiting from it."
A hint of tension entered Lynn's voice: "Send me these materials, and I'll have the technical team verify them.
But Carter, you must understand, this goes beyond the scope of a normal investigation.
These people will do everything they can to protect themselves.
If you go deeper, it will be very dangerous."
Carter chuckled lightly, her voice filled with stubbornness: "Danger has always been there, but I can't stop.
If we don't expose them, they will continue to use violence to control everyone."
"Alright, but from now on, don't act alone."
Lynn's tone was firm, "I will arrange for people to protect you and investigate these leads at the same time.
If your findings are true, this storm is more complex than we imagined."
After hanging up, Carter looked out the window.
Manhattan was brightly lit in the night, but she felt an invisible pressure shrouding the entire city.
She understood that this was not just about exposing 'Dawn', but about confronting a vast network that manipulated society.
Lynn quickly handed the documents Carter provided to the technical team for analysis and convened a team discussion.
Through further investigation, they found that Keen Industries was indeed connected to several politicians, and the public statements and legislative proposals of these politicians were the core force driving strict control over Mutants.
"These people use 'Dawn' to create violent incidents to prove that Mutants are a threat," Carter said angrily, flipping through documents.
"They don't care how many people these acts of violence will hurt.
Their goal is to create panic."
"The problem is, we need more conclusive evidence," Lynn said coldly.
"We can't move against them based solely on these documents.
If we want to shake these forces, we need to find their direct link to the 'Dawn' organization."
Lynn decided to intensify his actions and assign more personnel to protect Carter.
Lynn brought a mid-level member of the 'Dawn' organization back to the interrogation room at the FBI Manhattan branch.
The person was a man in his thirties, thin, with a clear stubborn expression on his face.
His hands were cuffed to the table, but there was no hint of fear in his eyes, only a cold defiance.
"It's useless for you to arrest me," he said coldly, with a hint of provocation in his voice, "If you arrest me, thousands more will stand up.
You can't stop any of this."
Lynn sat across the table, leaning slightly forward, his gaze sharp: "Is that so?
Then why don't you tell me their plan?
If you can really win, why stay silent?"
The man was silent for a moment, then sneered: "You people will never understand, our actions are to change this corrupt society, you are just tools of power."
Lynn was not provoked; he just said in a low, powerful voice: "I know your anger, and I know the injustices you've suffered.
But using violence to harm innocent people, that's not changing society, that's destroying it.
What did 'Dawn' promise you?
Do you really think they are protecting you?"
The man's expression changed, but quickly returned to indifference: "I won't say anything."
Lynn took a deep breath and turned to the monitoring room, signaling the technician to start playing a video.
This was material they had seized in a previous raid, reconstructing a secret meeting of the 'Dawn' organization's leadership.
In the video, the high-ranking leaders discussed with laughter how to use mid-level members to create chaos, while clearly stating: "We need their sacrifice to achieve our goals, but they don't need to know the truth."
The scene on the screen instantly tensed the man's expression.
His fists involuntarily clenched, and for the first time, there was a flicker of wavering in his eyes.
Lynn seized on his reaction, his tone becoming even sterner: "They are using you.
They don't care about you, they don't care about your beliefs, and they certainly don't care if you and your companions survive.
They just need you to be cannon fodder for them to achieve their own ends.
Do you think this is justice?
This is betrayal."
The man's breathing became ragged, and a flicker of anger and pain crossed his eyes.
He whispered: "You don't know anything.
Even so, we have no choice.
This society has pushed us to the wall."
"Then tell me their plan."
Lynn looked him directly in the eyes, his voice calm but full of power, "Tell me what they want to do next.
You want to protect your companions, you want more people to survive, then help us stop this Carnage."
The man's Adam's apple bobbed, clearly struggling internally.
After a few seconds, he finally spoke, his voice almost inaudible: "They... they are planning a large-scale operation, targeting Manhattan.
The time is in a few days."
Lynn's expression darkened: "What are the specific targets?"
"They want to simultaneously attack several key facilities—Manhattan's financial center, energy stations, and subway hubs," the man said with difficulty.
"They believe that only by plunging the entire city into chaos can they force the government to respond."
Lynn nodded, his heart tightening.
The scale of such an operation was unprecedented; if successfully implemented, the entire Manhattan would be paralyzed, and innocent civilians would bear the brunt.
"Who is commanding these actions?"
Lynn continued to press, "Where are 'Dawn's' high-ranking members?"
The man shook his head: "I don't know exactly who, but I know they have already sent out some core members to execute the plan.
They have a temporary command post, it should be in a warehouse in the dock area."
Lynn stood up and walked out of the interrogation room.
He ordered the team outside: "Immediately lock down suspicious locations in the dock area, mobilize all resources for a search, and simultaneously strengthen security at the financial center and energy stations.
We have no time left."
Carter stepped forward and asked in a low voice: "Detective, do you think he's telling the truth?"
"His reaction is real," Lynn said firmly, "But even if not everything he said is true, we cannot take that risk.
The actions of 'Dawn' have gone beyond the scope of isolated incidents; this time it's an attack on the entire city."
The entire branch immediately went into high alert, and the team began to formulate an action plan in full swing.
On the other side.
Carter's article was published on the front page of the Manhattan Times, where she vividly depicted the true plight of the Mutant community.
The article delved into the poverty, discrimination, and long-term lack of social resources faced by these communities.
She interviewed several Mutant residents, showcasing their struggles and their desire for equality, and frankly criticized the indifference and inaction of some government policies.
The article's title was eye-catching: "The Forgotten Group: The True Voice of the Mutant Community."
Upon its release, the content caused a huge stir in all sectors of society.
Supporters praised Carter's courage, believing she had uncovered issues long ignored by the public; while opponents accused her of trying to whitewash "dangerous groups," and some even threatened to boycott the Manhattan Times.
Carter sat in the editor's office, notifications constantly popping up on her phone, with supportive messages and hostile comments.
She sighed, feeling a complex mix of emotions.
She knew this article was her responsibility, but she also knew what kind of controversy it would cause.
Just then, her assistant knocked on the door, nervously handing her an unsigned letter.
The envelope was thin, but when Carter opened it, she saw only one piece of paper inside, with scrawled and rough handwriting: "Stop what you're doing, or we'll make you regret it."
Carter's hand trembled slightly as she held the letter; she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.
This wasn't the first time she had received a threat, but this time, she vaguely felt a greater danger lurking behind it.
She dialed Lynn's number, a hint of tension in her voice: "Lynn, I think we need to talk.
I just received a threat letter, and it might be related to 'Dawn'."
Lynn's voice on the other end of the phone was low and serious: "Carter, I warned you, they won't ignore your article.
Where are you now?"
"I'm in the editorial office," Carter replied, "I'm fine, but I feel like these people might really be targeting me."
"Stay there, don't move, I'm coming right away."
Lynn hung up, quickly gathered his gear, and drove to the Manhattan Times editorial office.
In less than twenty minutes, Lynn appeared in Carter's office.
He carefully examined the letter and envelope, his expression growing even more grim: "The handwriting looks disguised, but it's very likely from an outer member of 'Dawn'.
They've already identified you as a threat."
Carter's lips curled into a cold smile: "A threat?
Because I'm trying to inform the public of the truth?
It seems they're braver than I thought."
Lynn looked at her, a hint of concern in his voice: "Carter, this isn't just about bravery.
These people are extreme, dangerous, and their goal isn't just to intimidate, but to silence you.
If you continue to investigate, they are very likely to take more direct action."
Carter looked up, her eyes resolute: "Lynn, I won't stop.
This report has already been published, I can't let their threats control me."
Lynn took a deep breath, complex emotions flickering in his eyes: "I know you won't.
But from now on, I'm arranging round-the-clock protection for you.
You can't act alone anymore."
"Round-the-clock protection?"
Carter raised an eyebrow, a hint of teasing in her voice, "Are you planning to guard me yourself?"
"If necessary, I will."
Lynn's tone was serious, with no hint of a joke in his eyes.
Carter was momentarily speechless, the expression on her face softening slightly: "Thank you, Lynn.
I know this will make you busier, but I really appreciate you being willing to protect me."
Lynn nodded and stood up: "It's my responsibility.
Also, any clues or threats that might arise from now on, you must tell me immediately.
Don't bear it alone."
Carter watched Lynn leave, a warmth rising in her heart.
Although the situation had become more dangerous, she still felt a rare sense of security with Lynn by her side.
Manhattan Center suddenly plunged into chaos under the night sky.
The usually bustling square was now filled with screams and shouts.
Several Mutants were rampaging through the streets, their abilities varied: one could overturn vehicles with telekinesis, another could unleash lightning-like energy, and still another had Fire blazing from his hands.
Nearby streetlights were shattered, glass shards flew everywhere, and storefronts were blasted open by the Impact, alarms blaring one after another.
When the Police arrived at the scene, they tried to maintain order with megaphones, but the Mutants clearly had no intention of obeying commands.
Their anger was palpable; a man unleashing telekinesis directly overturned a Police car, while the Mutantreleasing Fire forced back approaching law enforcement with a fireball.
The Police tried to use non-lethal weapons to control the situation, but for these power-users, rubber bullets and tasers were useless, only making their counterattacks more aggressive.
When Lynn received the urgent notification, he was leading his team in analyzing the 'Dawn' organization's new movements.
He immediately put down the documents in his hand and quickly walked to the tactical command center, simultaneously issuing orders to the Agents on the communication device: "All personnel immediately go to the scene, this incident is definitely not accidental.
This is very likely a test; 'Dawn' is observing our reaction."
Carter followed closely behind, flipping through the newly received report while walking with Lynn: "Detective, none of these rioters have core 'Dawn' member records, but they seem very organized.
What's even stranger is that their destructive range is very limited, as if deliberately confined to the central square."
Lynn's expression grew even more solemn: "This is not an ordinary out-of-control riot.
Their behavior is purposeful, like a carefully choreographed performance.
'Dawn' might be using these Mutants as pawns to test our Police response time and tactical capabilities."
By the time Lynn arrived at the scene, the riot had escalated.
Several Police cars were destroyed, civilians scattered and fled, and the Mutant rioters seemed even more aggressive.
A Police was trying to cover an injured colleague's retreat but was struck by a lightning bolt, collapsing and convulsing.
Lynn immediately ordered the ambulance team to approach and quickly took over command with his small team.
He shouted into the megaphone at the rioters: "Stop your actions!
We have mobilized reinforcements, if you continue, you will be arrested or face more severe consequences!"
The Mutants turned to look at Lynn, their eyes filled with mockery and rage.
A rioter releasing Fire raised his hand, and a blazing Fire surged towards Lynn.
Lynn quickly dodged to the side, simultaneously ordering his team to activate specialized Fire extinguishing equipment; a stream of chemical foam sprayed out, putting out the Fire.
"They are testing us," Lynn whispered to Carter, "They don't intend a full-scale attack; they are just causing chaos to distract us."
Carter nodded, her gaze sweeping around: "But why?
Where will the real action be?
This doesn't look like the final objective."
Chapter 239 Key Evidence
Just then, an armored vehicle rapidly drove into the scene, and special forces poured out, quickly sealing off the area with shields and high-intensity suppression weapons.
Lynn looked at the situation before him, his heart growing more vigilant.
He knew that a larger conspiracy lay hidden behind this riot.
Through the tactical earpiece, the technical team relayed new intelligence: "Detective, our surveillance shows that these rioters gathered at the same location—an abandoned factory in the East District—a few hours before their operation.
This is very likely their temporary stronghold."
Lynn's gaze turned cold: "Notify all team members to immediately surround that factory.
I suspect this riot is just a cover; the real plan is likely still underway."
Meanwhile, the central area of the riot became even more chaotic, as the Mutant rioters seemed to realize that the police were gradually gaining the upper hand and began to retreat in different directions.
Lynn noticed that their withdrawal was not hasty but orderly, a reaction that further confirmed his judgment—these were not simple thugs, but individuals who had undergone some form of training and command.
Lynn did not pursue them, but instead quickly mobilized the remaining police force to cordon off the surrounding area.
He said to Carter, "Don't be fooled by their retreat; this might just be the first step.
They are buying time for the people behind the scenes."
Carter had also arrived at the scene by then, standing behind the cordon at a safe distance.
She brought a photographer to document everything, her face filled with complex emotions.
Her gaze passed through the cordon, falling on Lynn's busy figure, her heart full of contradictions.
She knew that no matter who instigated this riot, the common people would ultimately suffer, and her reporting could either reveal the truth or inadvertently deepen the rift.
When the riot subsided, Lynn received the latest news from the technical team: "Detective, we found several encrypted terminals at the abandoned factory, and the information from one of them points to a larger plan.
They are mobilizing more personnel, and the target location might be in the financial district."
Lynn held the earpiece, his eyes sharp: "Everyone gather immediately; the target is the financial district.
We have no time left."
He looked up at Carter nearby, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes, but he quickly turned and boarded the command vehicle.
On the other side.
Carter sat in her dimly lit apartment, the laptop screen on her desk emitting a faint blue light.
The document title on the screen clearly read: "Dawn Internal Strategic Meeting Minutes (Encrypted)."
This was a document she had obtained through secret channels at a considerable cost, but it might be the key to uncovering the core operations of this organization.
She quickly scanned the contents, discovering several unexpected details.
The document recorded the discussions from several recent high-level meetings of the Dawn organization, and signs of division were evident.
One part of the leadership, especially members led by the codename "Silent Rose," advocated for escalating the conflict between Mutants and ordinary people through violent actions, forcing the government to compromise.
Another part of the leadership, however, believed that extreme measures would only destroy the organization's credibility and alienate more Mutants.
These members proposed that they should use more grassroots mobilization and peaceful protests to gain social sympathy and support.
The document even recorded a fierce argument that occurred during one meeting.
"Silent Rose" stated directly: "We don't have time to wait for those politicians to slowly change policies; only by making this society feel pain will they take us seriously."
Another member, codenamed "Morning Star," strongly objected: "Violence will only turn us into monsters in the eyes of our enemies.
Our goal is peaceful coexistence, not a city engulfed in Fire!"
Carter's fingers paused on the touchpad, her heart pounding.
This was the first time she had seen the true internal workings of the Dawn organization.
It was not just an extremist Mutant organization, but a complex network rife with internal disagreements and contradictions.
She realized that this division might be the key to intervention—if the moderate faction within could gain the upper hand, it might alleviate the current crisis.
She continued to read, discovering more astonishing information.
One section mentioned a draft plan, codenamed "Operation Break of Dawn."
This draft described a series of radical actions promoted by "Silent Rose," with the ultimate goal of destroying Manhattan's financial system, triggering social unrest by paralyzing the economy.
However, the document also mentioned that some core members strongly opposed this plan, believing it would not only fail to win public support but would also lead to a larger crackdown by the government on the Mutantcommunity.
Carter knew that this information had to be given to Lynnas soon as possible.
She grabbed her phone and dialed Lynn's number, her voice low and urgent: "Lynn, I've obtained internal documents from the Dawn organization; this content might change our strategy."
Lynn on the other end of the line was clearly accustomed to Carter's unexpected discoveries; his voice remained consistently calm: "What specifically?"
Carter quickly explained: "The documents show severe internal divisions within Dawn.
The conflict between the violent faction and the moderate faction has escalated, and 'Operation Break of Dawn' is their impending large-scale plan, but it does not have the support of all members.
This might be our chance to stop them."
Lynn was silent for a moment, then said: "Send me the documents; I need the technical team to verify their authenticity.
If it's true, this is indeed a breakthrough."
Carter hesitated for a moment, then said firmly: "Lynn, this document is not just intelligence; it also indicates a fact—not all Mutants support violent actions.
We need to make this content public, to let the public know that Dawn is not a unified evil organization, but a group full of contradictions."
Lynn's voice carried a hint of warning: "Carter, doing so might complicate the situation further.
If the violent faction perceives internal betrayal, they might accelerate their actions."
"But it's worth it," Carter interrupted him.
"We can't solve the problem solely by pursuit and suppression.
If these moderates are willing to cooperate, we can dismantle the entire organization through them."
Lynn sighed: "Alright, send me the documents.
I'll arrange for someone to contact these moderates, but you must promise not to act alone again.
The risk this time is greater than you imagine."
Carter nodded: "Understood, I'll be careful."
After hanging up, Carter sent the documents to Lynn and simultaneously began writing a report about the internal divisions within Dawn.
Carter sat in her apartment, the screen filled with dense information.
She had collected this information through various channels, involving some hidden records of Flame Heart's past.
She discovered that this Mutant named Marcos Ramirez was not initially extremely violent.
His name appeared in a document from many years ago, and the title of the document made her frown instantly—"Keen Industries Special Ability Research Project."
She carefully read the document, gradually piecing together a heartbreaking story.
Marcos was once an ordinary Mutant teenager.
Although his Flame ability caused him to be ostracized in daily life, he always tried to integrate into ordinary society.
Until one day, he was arrested due to a community conflict and then taken away by "Keen Industries" under the pretense of helping him control his abilities.
The document recorded the details of the experiment, and the cold, indifferent language made Carter's hands involuntarily clench into fists.
Keen Industries, under the guise of government contracts, used Mutant abilities for high-risk weaponization research.
Marcos became the subject of these experiments; his Flame ability was forcibly enhanced through drugs and surgery, and he was even used to test the effectiveness of new weapons.
The cost of the experiments was enormous.
The document mentioned that Marcos tried to escape multiple times but was suppressed by even more brutal methods.
His abilities became increasingly unstable, even threatening his own life, yet the researchers merely regarded him as an "asset."
Carter took a deep breath and continued to look through the material.
She found that after the experiments, Marcos was abandoned on the grounds of "uncontrolled abilities," and Keen Industries even erased all records related to him.
Deprived of experimental funding and identity support, he was forced to wander the streets and was taken in by the Mutant community.
It was during these years that he transformed from a youth trying to integrate into society into the enraged "Flame Heart" he is today.
Carter suddenly felt a tightness in her chest.
This was not just a story of someone betrayed by society, but a declaration of revenge from a victim.
Every action Marcos took seemed like a cry, demanding justice from this indifferent World in an extreme way.
She immediately called Lynn, her voice full of urgency: "Lynn, I found out about Marcos's past; this might change our perception of him."
Lynn asked in a deep voice on the other end of the phone: "What is it?"
"Marcos was once an experimental subject of Keen Industries," Carter quickly said.
"His Flame ability was forcibly enhanced, and his anger stems from the pain caused by those experiments.
His actions are not simple destruction, but an extreme retaliation against social injustice."
Lynn was silent for a moment on the other end of the line, his tone becoming even deeper: "What does this mean? Is he just a victim?"
"He is a victim, but that doesn't excuse his violent behavior," Carter's tone was firm, but she immediately added, "However, if we can make him see that continuing such actions will only deepen prejudice against Mutants, perhaps we can make him stop.
I suspect his anger stems more from isolation and despair."
Lynn sighed: "Carter, do you know how difficult that is?
He's already deeply entrenched, and we don't even know if he's willing to listen to any persuasion."
Carter clutched the document in her hand, her eyes resolute: "I have to try.
People need to know his story, to know that he wasn't born a demon, but a casualty of this system.
If we can make the public realize this, perhaps we can still salvage the situation."
Lynn pondered for a moment, finally saying: "Bring these documents to the branch; I need to verify this information.
If it's true, perhaps we can use these materials to find a breakthrough."
Carter hung up the phone, packed all the documents into her bag, and at the same time, secretly decided that this time she would not only help Lynn stop Flame Heart's destructive actions, but also let the World know that the anger and violence among Mutants hid long-term social oppression and exploitation.
A few hours later, Carter arrived at the FBI branch and handed the documents to Lynn.
Lynn's gaze swept over the cold experimental records, his brow deeply furrowed: "Keen Industries, this isn't the first time we've heard that name.
They are not just supporters of 'Dawn'; they are clearly manipulating these extremists on a deeper level."
"So, it's not just about catching 'Flame Heart,'" Carter said in a low voice.
"It's about the entire system.
If Keen Industries isn't exposed, stories like Marcos's will repeat over and over again."
Lynn nodded, a hint of sternness in his eyes: "I will intensify the investigation into Keen Industries, but we cannot relax our pursuit of 'Flame Heart.'
His plan has reached a critical stage, and any delay could plunge Manhattan into greater chaos."
The two looked at each other for a moment, both sensing the complexity and gravity of this battle.
On the other side.
Lynn sat in his office, an important search warrant application before him.
However, his superior told him in a serious and unequivocal tone: "Lynn, this application cannot be approved.
This matter involves too broad a scope and has too profound an impact."
"Impact?" Lynn looked up, a hint of suppressed anger in his voice.
"Isn't Manhattan's safety the most profound impact?
We have enough evidence to prove that Keen Industriesis manipulating 'Dawn' behind the scenes, and if we don't act, the coming disaster will be unavoidable!"
His superior's expression was stern, yet a flicker of unease crossed his face.
He said in a deep voice: "Lynn, I understand how you feel, but we cannot rashly move against such a large corporation.
Keen Industries' executives have connections with multiple departments, and their legal team can make all our efforts futile.
Moreover, your speculation lacks direct corroborating evidence."
Lynn suppressed the anger in his heart, pushed the document onto the table, and said firmly: "We cannot do nothing just because we are afraid of failure.
Delaying now will only give these people more time to clear evidence; they have already caused enough damage to this city."
His superior was silent for a moment, then finally shook his head: "Lynn, this is an order.
Temporarily halt the direct investigation into Keen Industries and focus on the immediate crisis."
Lynn did not argue further; he simply stood up and walked out of the office without a word.
His mood was heavy, knowing that this was not merely his superior's personal decision, but pressure from a higher level.
Keen Industries had clearly exerted some influence behind the scenes; their power not only permeated economic and political spheres but even affected law enforcement.
He returned to his own office, closed the door, and sat down alone.
His desk was piled with files on "Dawn" and financial records of Keen Industries, every page filled with the scent of conspiracy.
However, these materials were like scattered puzzle pieces, missing the final crucial piece that could directly expose the truth.
Chapter 240 Unable to Face
Detective Lynn leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the Manhattan nightscape outside the window.
His thoughts churned, and a unsettling idea surfaced: if Keen Industries' reach could influence law enforcement, then who could he trust?
Was there still any chance of winning this battle?
Suddenly, his phone on the desk vibrated a few times, displaying Carter's name on the screen.
Lynn answered the call, Carter's voice urgent: "Lynn, I just received word that someone is trying to destroy some sensitive documents from Keen Industries.
They might know you're investigating."
Lynn sat up straight, his voice becoming low and calm: "Are you sure the information is reliable?"
"Absolutely certain," Carter said, "My informant said they'd be cleaning out a warehouse on the West Pier tonight.
If we miss this chance, that evidence might be lost forever."
Lynn's mind raced; he knew this was an opportunity, but it was also full of risks.
The operation had no search warrant, and it might touch upon the taboos of high-ranking officials.
But if he gave up, he would lose the key to exposing Keen Industries.
"I'll handle it," Lynn said in a deep voice, "But Carter, you must promise me, absolutely do not get close this time."
Carter on the other end of the line paused, then replied softly: "I understand, but please be careful.
They won't let this evidence fall into your hands easily."
After hanging up, Lynn quickly assembled a trusted team.
He didn't report to his superiors but instead directly ordered preparations for an unofficial operation.
He knew this might put him on the edge of danger, but he also knew that if he waited any longer, he would lose his last chance to uncover the truth.
In the night, Lynn led his team stealthily approaching the warehouse on the West Pier.
They saw a few trucks parked outside the warehouse from a distance, and several people in black were moving boxes full of documents, clearly preparing to destroy them.
"Move," Lynn ordered in a low voice, and the team members quickly surrounded the warehouse, approaching silently.
Lynn led the charge into the warehouse, pointing his gun at the people, and sternly shouted: "FBI, everyone down!"
The people panicked; a few tried to resist but were quickly subdued by Lynn's team.
Lynn looked around, his gaze falling on an industrial shredder that was still working, the paper inside already torn into fragments.
His heart tightened, and he immediately ordered the technician to check the remaining documents.
The technician took out several undestroyed documents from a box, quickly scanned them, and then looked up, saying: "Detective, these files contain records of Keen Industries' financial flows, some of which directly point to the 'Dawn' account.
This is the evidence we need!"
Lynn's gaze became even sharper; he ordered all documents to be collected and the suspects to be escorted.
The next day.
Lynn led his team in a stealthy infiltration of the core stronghold of the "Dawn" organization—an abandoned building deep in Manhattan's industrial district.
The entire building had been meticulously converted into a clandestine command center, surrounded by surveillance and guards, clearly the hub where the "Dawn" organization planned a series of operations.
The night wind carried a hint of tension, and Lynn's earpiece buzzed with the technical team's low whispers: "Detective, we've secured the perimeter cameras, confirming at least twenty armed personnel inside the building, and several high-heat signatures, suspected Mutants."
Lynn nodded, making a few simple gestures to the team behind him.
The task force split into groups, simultaneously moving from different entrances of the building.
Lynn personally led the main assault team, quickly passing through a side door and entering the building's interior.
The lights inside the building were dim, with only faint warning lights glowing in a few corners.
Lynn leaned against the wall, signaling his team to advance with hand gestures.
The air was filled with a tense pressure, every step like treading on a taut string in the dark.
Suddenly, a low click came from ahead—someone had disengaged a weapon's safety.
Lynn reacted quickly, signaling his team to take cover, while simultaneously raising his gun towards the direction of the sound.
The other side had clearly detected their presence; a shrill alarm instantly blared throughout the entire building, followed by gunshots and explosions erupting in the darkness.
"They found us!" Carter's voice came through the earpiece.
Lynn commanded in a low voice: "Squads provide cover, prioritize controlling the perimeter armed personnel, do not let them have a chance to retreat.
Main assault team, follow me, we must find Flame Heart!"
The battle escalated instantly; members of the Dawn organization poured out from every corner, well-equipped, some even directly attacking with Mutantabilities.
A Mutant with arms covered in rock-like skin charged towards Lynn's squad, smashing a piece of cover into fragments with immense force.
Lynn quickly fired, precisely hitting his knee, forcing him to stop.
Team members seized the opportunity to subdue him with special restraint devices.
Gunshots and roars echoed in the narrow corridor, the entire building seemingly transforming into a battlefield.
Lynn and his team advanced floor by floor, finally reaching a steel double door.
A low hum emanated from the other side of the door, as if some energy was pulsating.
Lynn signaled his team to retreat, then cautiously pushed open the door.
A scorching heat wave washed over them, and in the center of the room stood a familiar figure—MarcosRamirez, Flame Heart.
Behind him was a massive vortex of Fire, his entire body enveloped in a blazing red glow, as if he had merged with the Fire.
"Detective Lynn," Marcos turned around, a cold smirk on his lips, "You finally came.
I thought you'd send these pawns to their deaths."
"Marcos, put down what you're holding," Lynn's gun pointed directly at him, his tone low but firm, "You know, this battle will only hurt more people.
This isn't the outcome you want."
"Outcome?" Marcos's smile became even more mocking, "You think I still care about any outcome?
They destroyed my life; I'm just letting this society taste the pain they gave us.
I want to see Manhattan burn; only then will these people face us!"
"Is this what you want, or what Dawn wants?" Lynn tried to calm him down, "I know you're being used.
They're using your anger and abilities to achieve their own goals, and these high-ranking officials don't care about your life or death."
Marcos's smile froze for a moment, but was quickly replaced by anger.
He violently waved his hands, and Fire instantly gushed out, rushing towards Lynn.
Lynn quickly rolled to dodge, while simultaneously firing his gun to try and suppress him.
But Marcos's Fire ability was clearly far beyond ordinary; each wave of his hand stirred up rolling heat waves, igniting everything around him.
"Lynn, retreat quickly!" Carter's voice came through the earpiece, "His heat value has exceeded the safe range; this place could explode at any moment!"
Lynn didn't back down; he knew that if he let Marcoscontinue, this building and everyone in it would be consumed by Fire.
He switched to specialized tranquilizer darts, aiming for Marcos's shoulder during a lull in his attack.
After a gunshot, Marcos's movements paused slightly, but he quickly gritted his teeth and stood firm, roaring as he unleashed even more violent Fire.
The entire room began to shake, Fire dancing on the ceiling, gradually spreading outwards.
Lynn gasped for breath, quickly analyzing the situation.
He saw that while Marcos's ability was powerful, it relied too heavily on emotion, and each outburst would leave him in a brief period of weakness.
"Marcos!" Lynn shouted loudly, "Do you want those who used you to succeed?
The people you're killing now, the city you're destroying, are all the results they want!
You are their pawn, and I can help you break free from this game!"
Marcos's gaze wavered violently for a moment, and the intensity of the Fire also weakened.
But the next second, he gritted his teeth again, his eyes filled with pain and struggle: "You can't fool me!
You're all the same!
There can be no peace!"
Lynn seized the opportunity, rushed forward, and directly hit Marcos in the abdomen with a taser gun.
The immense Current made Marcos fall to his knees in pain, the Fire around him instantly extinguished.
He gasped for breath, hands on the ground, staring angrily at Lynn, but no longer able to retaliate.
"It's over," Lynn said in a low voice, while signaling his team to come forward and fasten the special ability suppression device onto Marcos's wrists.
The entire room fell into a dead silence, with only the charcoal ash from the burning Fire gently floating in the air.
Lynn stood in place, looking at the subdued Marcos, but felt no sense of victorious relief.
He knew that this battle was just the tip of the iceberg, and the true core of Dawn remained hidden in the darkness.
And Marcos's anger was merely a product of this system's cruel reality.
Lynn turned to his team and ordered: "Clear the scene, take all the evidence.
We're not done yet."
His gaze was stern, seemingly piercing through the smoke of this battle into the deeper darkness of the night.
On the other side.
Carter stood outside the abandoned building, clutching a voice recorder, her photographer already gone, leaving only her and the chaotic battlefield under the night sky.
Gunshots and explosions echoed from inside the building, making the ground tremble slightly.
She had promised Lynn she wouldn't get close, but a journalist's intuition made her unable to retreat.
She knew that everything happening here would be key to changing public opinion, and she had to witness it firsthand.
Just as she was about to get closer to take more footage, a rapid sound of footsteps came from the alley.
Several armed Dawn members suddenly appeared in front of her, clearly stragglers who had escaped from the battle.
Carter's heart tightened, and she instinctively retreated, trying to avoid their sight.
"Stop!" one of them shouted sternly, his gaze sharply fixed on her.
Carter knew she had been spotted and could only stand firm, forcing herself to speak in a calm tone: "I'm a reporter; I'm just documenting the event."
"A reporter?" the leading man sneered, "You think your identity can save you?
You're cooperating with the police; we know."
Carter's heart sank, realizing her reports had already attracted their attention.
She instinctively turned to run, but as soon as she took a step, one of them grabbed her arm.
She struggled, but then heard the sound of metal clashing—the sound of a gun being cocked.
"Take her back; maybe she'll be of some value," another voice said, low and cold.
Carter closed her eyes in despair, her heart pounding as if it would burst from her chest.
However, just as she felt the pulling force intensify, a crisp gunshot cut through the air, followed by a man's roar and the dull thud of a body falling.
Carter abruptly opened her eyes and saw Lynn rushing out of the Shadow, his gun precisely aimed at the remaining Dawn members.
"Let her go!" Lynn's voice was low and full of deterrence.
His gaze was as sharp as a blade, staring directly at those people, his finger already steadily on the trigger.
The Dawn members clearly hesitated; their weapons trembled for a moment, but they still tried to resist.
Lynn didn't give them a chance; another gunshot, and a man trying to approach Carter fell to the ground.
Seeing this, the remaining people turned and fled into the night.
Lynn quickly stepped forward, pulling Carter behind him, his eyes filled with anger and concern: "Didn't I tell you to stay away from here?"
Carter hadn't fully recovered from the fright, her voice trembling slightly: "I... I just wanted to document everything that happened; I didn't know they would show up."
Lynn cursed under his breath, gripping her shoulder, his tone becoming even deeper: "Do you know you almost died?
These people aren't ordinary thugs; they won't let go of targets like you."
Carter looked up at him, forcing a bitter smile: "But you came."
Lynn paused, looking at her with complex emotions in his eyes.
His hand slightly loosened but still didn't completely release her shoulder.
He whispered: "Carter, I can't always make it in time.
This time was lucky, but what about next time?"
Carter was silent for a moment, then softly said: "I know you're worried about me, but I also have my duty.
This matter is too important, too important for me to back down."
Lynn looked at her, a hint of struggle flashing in his eyes, finally sighing: "Alright, I know I can't stop you.
But from now on, no matter where you go, I will ensure you have protection.
This isn't a negotiation; this is an order."
Carter's gaze softened a bit; she looked at Lynn and softly said: "Thank you, Lynn.
I know you won't leave me alone."
Lynn didn't answer, just nodded.
He reached out to wipe the dust from Carter's face, his movements unconsciously becoming gentle.
He whispered: "We need to get out of here; this place isn't safe yet."
The two quickly left the alley, Lynn always keeping Carterprotected beside him.
Although the night was still full of danger, Carter felt a strange sense of security, as if no matter what happened, with Lynn there, nothing was insurmountable.
When they reached a relatively safe area, Lynn finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He turned to look at Carter, his eyes holding an indescribable emotion: "You must promise me that if there's ever a dangerous situation again, contact me immediately; don't act on your own."
Carter chuckled softly: "I promise, but you also have to promise me not to face all the dangers alone anymore."
Lynn paused, then a slight smile curved his lips: "Okay, deal."
Chapter 241 Preparing for the Official Competition
Flame Heart was being held in a special interrogation room at the FBI Manhattan Branch. His wrists and ankles were tightly bound by special power-suppressing devices, and his eyes coldly stared at Detective Lynn opposite him, his face filled with exhaustion and struggle. He had clearly gone through an intense internal battle, and Detective Lynn's gaze showed no signs of letting up.
"Marcos, this is all over," Detective Lynn said coldly. "Your operation failed, and the 'Dawn' stronghold has been cleared. The only thing you can do now is tell me the truth. Who is controlling you all?"
Marcos sneered, a hint of mockery in his eyes: "Controlling? Do you think I'm a puppet? No, Detective Lynn, everything I did was for revenge, to make those who destroyed us feel pain."
Detective Lynn leaned in closer, his tone low and firm: "Revenge? If this is just your revenge plan, why do you have so many resources? Why does 'Dawn' obey your command? You know this isn't something you could do alone."
Marcos was silent for a moment, his eyes flickering as if weighing his options. He finally sighed and said in a low voice: "You think I'm the mastermind? No, I'm just a pawn of theirs. They knew I hated this society, they knew I hated those who turned me into a monster. They used my anger, gave me resources, gave me a team, and even told me what to do."
Detective Lynn's expression grew even colder: "Who are they?"
Marcos's face darkened. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes filled with helplessness and pain: "Keen Industries, and the people behind them. I've never seen their true faces, but every time I needed something, someone would deliver it. Funds, weapons, plans… they even told me how to create panic."
Kate stood by, listening to Marcos's confession, complex emotions swirling within her. She finally broke the silence and asked softly: "Why are you willing to say all this now?"
Marcos turned to look at her, a bitter smile on his lips: "Because I failed. They'll pin all the blame on me, then erase all traces connected to them. I know what my fate is, but if I can expose their plan, maybe I can salvage something."
Detective Lynn's brow furrowed even deeper. He looked at Marcos, his gaze scrutinizing: "Do you have evidence? Evidence that Keen Industries was directly involved in these actions."
Marcos closed his eyes and slowly said: "I kept some communication records, and copies of the financial ledgers they gave me. I hid them in a place, originally intending to keep them as a last resort. If you really want to find out, go look for those things."
"Address," Detective Lynn asked without hesitation.
Marcos opened his eyes and looked calmly at Detective Lynn: "Warehouse Seven in the Brooklyn dock area, under the floor behind the east wall. I just hope you can find them and expose their true faces."
Detective Lynn nodded, quickly got up, and motioned for a Agent to record the address. He turned to Kate and said in a low voice: "We need to act immediately. This might be our only chance to find direct involvement from Keen Industries."
Kate nodded, but a hint of unease was in her eyes: "Lynn, if what Marcos said is true, the people behind this might have already started clearing these traces. We have to be fast."
The two left the interrogation room and led a small team straight to the Brooklyn dock area. The warehouse district under the night sky was unusually quiet, with only the occasional wind howling through the dilapidated corrugated iron. Detective Lynn and Kate stood in front of Warehouse Seven, their gazes met for a moment, then they nodded, signaling the team to prepare to breach the door.
The inside of the warehouse was dim and cluttered, but empty. Detective Lynn and Kate quickly found the mark on the east wall, and after prying up the floor, they indeed found a hidden metal box. Detective Lynn opened the box, which was filled with paper documents and several encrypted hard drives.
"These are them," Detective Lynn said in a low voice, quickly putting the documents into an evidence bag. "Marcos didn't lie."
Kate's gaze swept over the documents, but she had an uneasy premonition: "Lynn, if Keen Industries' reach is really that deep, they wouldn't let this evidence fall into our hands so easily."
Just as she finished speaking, a sudden engine sound came from outside the warehouse. Several black SUVs quickly drove up, their doors opened, and several fully armed men in black poured out. They were clearly there to destroy the evidence.
Detective Lynn made a decisive decision and ordered over the communicator: "Team prepare, cover the retreat! Do not let the evidence fall into their hands!"
Immediately, an intense exchange of gunfire erupted inside and outside the warehouse. Detective Lynn and his team used cargo containers as cover, engaging in a seesaw battle with the men in black. Kate was escorted to a safe corner; although she was told not to get close to the fight, her eyes remained fixed on Detective Lynn's figure, her heart filled with complex emotions.
In the chaos of the crossfire, Detective Lynn handed the evidence to a team member, quietly ordering: "Take these things immediately and send them back to the Branch!"
"Detective, what about you--" The team member hesitated for a moment.
"I'll provide cover, go!" Detective Lynn interrupted him, his eyes firm.
The team member nodded and quickly retreated with the evidence. Detective Lynn continued to fight the men in black until the last enemy was subdued, then he finally breathed a slight sigh of relief.
When everything calmed down, Kate walked up, looking at the smoke-covered Detective Lynn with complex eyes, and said softly: "You knew it was dangerous, but you still put yourself on the front lines."
Detective Lynn looked at her, a tired smile on his face: "Someone has to. I can't let these people ruin our only chance."
Kate said nothing more, just reached out and gently squeezed Detective Lynn's arm, her eyes full of gratitude and an unspoken emotion.
When Detective Lynn walked through the door, he heard the television and the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen. Although he had only been away for a few months, everything seemed much more unfamiliar. He saw George busy in the kitchen, clearly preparing dinner. His adoptive father's back seemed a little stooped, but he was still deftly chopping vegetables and stir-frying, as if time had not changed him at all.
"Lynn, you're back?" George heard the sound, turned his head and smiled, but his eyes held a hint of fatigue and a vague sense of distance. Detective Lynn nodded, took off his coat and hung it by the door, "Yes, I'm back to see you all."
George hummed softly, turned back to his work, and said in a flat tone: "Gwen is in her room, she's been very busy lately, go see her."
Detective Lynn walked up the familiar stairs to the second floor and knocked on Gwen's door. There was a hurried rustling of papers inside, then his sister's flustered voice: "Who is it?"
"It's me." Detective Lynn pushed the door open and found Gwen hunched over a pile of application forms and textbooks, her eyes heavy with fatigue. "Are you okay?" he asked.
Gwen forced a smile: "Of course, applying to college, it's always busy."
Detective Lynn walked over and saw the scattered scholarship application materials on the table, feeling a faint pang of heartache. He sat opposite her and said: "You don't have to push yourself so hard. If you need anything, tell me or Dad, we'll help you."
"Will you really help?" Gwen looked up, a hint of imperceptible resentment in her voice, "You're so busy you rarely come home, do you even know what I'm busy with anymore?"
Detective Lynn was speechless for a moment. He tried to argue, but the words only turned into a sigh.
At dinner, George served several home-cooked dishes. Although the table was abundant, the atmosphere was not as relaxed as imagined. Detective Lynn tried to find some topics to break the silence, "Dad, how have you been lately? Are you still doing those community things?"
"Of course, I have nothing else to do," George replied blandly, picking up his Water glass and taking a sip. His simple answer made Detective Lynn feel uneasy. He noticed that George's face was paler than before, and his arm movements were slightly slower.
Gwen ate with her head down, occasionally looking up at Detective Lynn and George, but clearly not wanting to participate in their conversation. Detective Lynn finally couldn't help but put down his chopsticks and ask: "Dad, is there something wrong with your health? You don't look as energetic as before."
George frowned, put down his chopsticks, and his tone became slightly stern: "Don't overthink it, I'm fine. You should worry more about yourself."
Gwen also looked up and said coldly: "Lynn, his health is very good, better than yours. And you? So busy with work that you can't even take care of home, and now you suddenly want to ask about us?"
Detective Lynn's face stiffened. He felt trapped in an unarguable position. He said in a low voice: "I'm just worried about you all. I know I Haven't done enough, but I'm trying to make amends."
George sighed and waved his hand: "Enough, don't talk about this. Let's eat."
The entire dinner ended in silence. Detective Lynn felt a long-lost sense of estrangement enveloping this home. He returned to his room, sat at his old desk, and looked at the childhood items still neatly arranged in the drawer, his heart filled with mixed emotions. This home had once been his warmest Haven, but now, it seemed to have become an unfamiliar place he needed to reintegrate into.
Detective Lynn swore he had to do better, not just for himself, but for his adoptive father and sister.
The next morning, when Detective Lynn woke up, he could already hear George's low voice downstairs. He rubbed his eyes and went downstairs to see Georgeholding an old hat and a pair of worn sneakers, clearly ready to go out.
"Lynn, you're up?" George looked up at him, his tone still flat, but with a hint of expectation, "I'm going for a walk in the park, want to come with me?"
Detective Lynn was startled for a moment, then nodded: "Of course."
Fifteen minutes later, they stood at the entrance of the community park they used to frequent as children. The sunlight fell on George's wrinkled face, his eyes filled with nostalgia, as if he were traveling through time.
"When you were little, you were always running around here," George said softly, leading Detective Lynn slowly deeper into the park. "When you first moved here, you were introverted and didn't really want to play with other kids. So I brought you here every day, taught you how to kick a ball, and how to greet other children."
Detective Lynn recalled those hazy memories, and a smile involuntarily appeared on his lips: "Yes, I remember you forcing me to play baseball with the neighbor's kids back then. I hated it at first, but later it became my favorite sport."
George nodded, pointing to an old swing not far away: "Do you remember that swing? Gwen used to sit there when she was little, and she fell off and cried like a small pump—but you were laughing and comforting her at the same time, and even carried her around for a lap."
Detective Lynn followed his gaze. The swing was old and rusty, but he seemed to still see little Gwen giggling on it. He said softly: "You really did so much for us, but I never properly thanked you."
George stopped, turned to look at Detective Lynn, and for the first time, the expression on his face softened: "You are my children, Lynn. This is what I should do. Raising you gave me purpose and meaning, especially after your mother left."
When Detective Lynn heard this, his heart ached. He knew his mother's death was a huge blow to George, and George had taken on the responsibility of raising them alone, yet he had never mentioned these difficulties to them.
"Dad, I'm really sorry. For so many years, I've been busy with my own things and never thought about how you managed to get through it," Detective Lynn said softly.
George patted his shoulder and said with a smile: "It's good that you're back now. Life was a bit tough, but seeing you grow up healthy is the best reward for me."
Behind a nearby bench, Gwen secretly held her phone, recording the scene. A smile played on her lips, and she thought to herself that this conversation would surely become one of their family's most precious memories in the future.
One evening, Detective Lynn came home late from overtime. As he passed Gwen's room, he heard the low strumming of a guitar and soft singing from inside. He stopped, finding the door slightly ajar. Through the crack, he saw Gwen sitting on a chair, holding an old guitar, her head bowed as she played intently. Scattered on the nearby bed were some lyric books and a music competition application form.
Detective Lynn pushed the door open. Gwen jumped, quickly putting the guitar aside and using her body to block the forms: "Brother, you scared me!"
Detective Lynn glanced at the documents on the bed and raised an eyebrow: "So, this is why you've been locked in your room every day lately?"
Gwen's face flushed slightly, and she said nervously in a low voice: "I... I'm just trying it out. I might not even participate anyway."
Detective Lynn walked into the room and picked up the application form, which clearly stated "City Youth Music Competition." He smiled slightly: "Gwen, this isn't just 'trying it out.' You're preparing for an official competition."
Gwen looked away a bit guiltily, mumbling: "I'm just afraid... I'm afraid I won't do well and will disappoint you."
Detective Lynn sat down, his tone softening: "Gwen, do you really think we would be disappointed by this? Dad and I will only be proud of you, no matter the outcome."
Despite Detective Lynn saying this, Gwen still seemed a bit unconfident. The next morning, Detective Lynn told George about it. After listening, George thought for a moment and said: "Gwen needs our support, but we can't tell her directly that we know. That would put more pressure on her."
Chapter 242 The Most Special Cup of Soda
"What should we do then?" Lynn asked.
George smiled: "We'll secretly help her. Come, I have an idea."
Over the next few days, Lynn and George took turns pretending to "pass by" Gwen's room unintentionally, always taking the opportunity to stop and listen to her rehearse. When Gwen needed help, Lynn would proactively offer suggestions, such as helping her adjust her guitar's tuning, or even practicing harmonies with her. George, on the other hand, would secretly make small recordings while she practiced and help her edit them into short clips to show Gwen, encouraging her that she was doing very well.
On the day of the competition, Gwen finally managed her nervousness and went to the venue alone. She thought her family knew nothing about it until she stood backstage, preparing to go on, and suddenly heard familiar voices.
"Gwen! You can do it!" Lynn and George stood in the front row of the audience, waving at her.
Gwen froze, her eyes instantly reddening: "You… how did you know?"
George laughed loudly and said: "You're my daughter, how could we not know what you're doing? You just need to perform well, leave the rest to us."
Lynn patted her shoulder: "Go on, don't overthink it. We're here to cheer you on, no matter the outcome."
As Gwen walked onto the stage, her heart was filled with emotion and confidence. She played her guitar and sang with a clear voice, and the audience applauded her performance. Lynn and George's applause was the most enthusiastic.
After the competition, Gwen didn't win first place, but her performance received high praise from the judges. On the way home, she sat in the back seat of the car, unable to stop her tears.
"Thank you, truly, thank you." She choked out, "I always thought you wouldn't care, but you've always supported me."
George reached out and patted her shoulder, smiling: "You are part of our family, how could we not care? Always remember, no matter what you do, we are here."
Lynn then teased: "So, next time something happens, remember to tell us directly. Stop secretly practicing, it's pretty silly."
The next day.
Lynn noticed that George would leave home punctually every morning, carrying an old cloth bag containing a notebook, medicine, and some small tools. Every time Lynn asked him what he was going to do, George would simply reply: "There are still many people in the community who need help, don't worry about me."
At first, Lynn didn't pay much attention to it. He felt that George was retired and should rest more, rather than being busy like this every day. Especially when Lynnfound that George's body was gradually showing signs of strain, occasionally coughing after returning home in the morning, or needing to sit for a while to recover, he felt even more that his father shouldn't exert himself anymore.
"Dad, you're so old, why are you still working so hard?" Lynn asked at a family dinner, expressing his confusion, "Community matters can be left to younger people."
George looked up, his expression calm but with a hint of persistence: "Lynn, being old doesn't mean being useless. There are many elderly people in the community who rarely even see their children. I can help a little, it's better than staying at home doing nothing."
Lynn frowned slightly, but said nothing more.
A few days later, Lynn came home early from work. As he passed the community square, he saw a group of people gathered, seemingly agitated. Several neighbors were arguing, and two elderly people stood in the middle, looking helpless. Lynn initially wanted to leave directly, but George's figure in the crowd made him stop.
George stood in the center of the argument, holding a notebook, and gently clapped his hands: "Alright, alright, everyone calm down and listen to me for a moment."
"Old George, this is none of your business!" an agitated middle-aged man said.
George, however, smiled, his tone calm and firm: "If it's not my business, whose is it? You've lived together for decades, what problem can't be resolved by sitting down and talking it through?"
The crowd quieted down a bit. George began to speak while flipping through his notebook: "Old Li, you think Old Wang's dog always runs into your yard, but I remember last time Old Wang's dog ran to help you pick up a dropped letter, and you even praised it; Old Wang, you said Old Li's tree blocks your light, but last year on a hot day, Old Li even let you sit under the shade of his tree to cool off, right?"
His words made both elderly people pause, and an embarrassed expression appeared on their faces. Georgestruck while the iron was hot, smiling: "Everyone is a neighbor, and we should be considerate of each other. Are we going to spend the rest of our lives being angry with each other?"
After a few words, the atmosphere eased, and the two elderly people began to nod and apologize to each other. The crowd gradually dispersed, and George patted both of their shoulders, telling them to come to the square to play chess when they had time. As he turned to leave, he saw Lynn standing in the distance.
"Lynn?" George was clearly surprised, but quickly smiled and walked over, "What are you doing here?"
Lynn looked at his father, paused, and said: "I saw it. You were… amazing just now."
George waved his hand, his tone relaxed: "It's nothing, I just understand them. When you get old, you always hope for more harmony among neighbors, it's better than everyone living behind closed doors."
Lynn was silent for a moment, suddenly feeling that he had previously underestimated George's persistence. He began to understand that his father's community work was not just simple help, but rather maintaining the connections and trust of those around him with sincerity and patience. This influence might be far more important than he imagined.
"Dad," Lynn began, with a hint of seriousness in his tone, "next time you do these things, can you take me with you? I want to try and help."
George paused, then showed a relieved smile: "Of course, the community welcomes you."
The next morning, Lynn returned to the Police station on time and began his day's work. He habitually flipped through the case reports on his desk when his assistant, Mark, knocked on his desk, holding a wanted poster.
"Detective," Mark handed over the wanted poster, saying in a relaxed tone, "This guy showed up again last night, a habitual thief who targets subway stations during rush hour. Honestly, catching him is easier than catching a cat."
Lynn picked up the wanted poster and glanced at it. The person in the photo was a thin, middle-aged man in a worn jacket, his eyes flickering. He nodded and stood up: "Then let's go take a look, and stretch our muscles while we're at it."
In less than ten minutes, Lynn and Mark arrived at the subway station not far from the Police station. The platform was bustling with people, and Lynn and Markpretended to be ordinary passengers, quietly observing their surroundings. Soon, the target appeared—the thin man was weaving through the crowd, occasionally scanning his surroundings with his peripheral vision, clearly looking for an opportunity to strike.
"Detective, who do you bet he'll pick?" Mark whispered, with a hint of playfulness in his eyes.
"The lady with the red scarf," Lynn quietly responded, "Her bag zipper is open, she's an easy target."
No sooner had he spoken than the thin man indeed approached the lady with the red scarf. His hand quietly reached for her bag, but before he could succeed, Lynnhad already grabbed his wrist, saying in a low but sufficiently authoritative voice: "Don't move, Police."
The man froze, tried to struggle, but Lynn's grip held him motionless. Mark quickly stepped forward to help, handcuffing him. The surrounding passengers looked at them, their faces full of surprise and admiration, while the lady with the red scarf repeatedly thanked Lynn.
"This guy is as stupid as ever," Mark quipped, "Detective, I think this time the judge might keep him in prison a bit longer."
"I hope so," Lynn smiled, "It'll save us the trouble of catching him again."
After sending the suspect back to the Police station, Lynnfinally had a moment of leisure. He walked into the small coffee shop next to the Police station, ordered an Americano, and sat in a corner seat, quietly watching the street scene outside the window.
The aroma of coffee lingered at his nose. He picked up the cup and took a sip, his tired expression relaxing slightly. Although he had only handled a small case today, this ease made him feel a rare sense of contentment.
Mark walked over with a cappuccino and sat opposite him: "Detective, it's rare for you to have time to enjoy coffee, good mood?"
Lynn looked at him, a smile playing on his lips: "Sometimes, small things can make work feel interesting, don't you think?"
Mark nodded in agreement: "Indeed. After all, not every case requires gunfights and car chases, these days are pretty good too."
Mark took a sip of coffee, his gaze somewhat unfocused, clearly with unresolved thoughts. He put down his cup, was silent for a while, and finally spoke: "Detective, do you ever feel… that things outside of work are more headache-inducing than these cases?"
Lynn raised an eyebrow, putting down his cup: "What do you mean by that?"
Mark sighed, and said in a low voice: "I've been having some problems with my girlfriend recently. She thinks I'm too busy with work and don't spend enough time with her, always complaining. Actually, I know she has a point, but every time I try to make amends, a case messes up the plan."
Lynn leaned back in his chair, listening carefully, without interrupting. His gaze softened, and his tone became more understanding: "She's not wrong, but you need to understand that balancing work and life indeed requires effort."
"The problem is, I don't know how to balance it," Marksaid helplessly, "She always says I don't understand her feelings, but I also don't know how to make her understand that what I do is not just work, but also my responsibility."
Lynn nodded, sighing softly: "I understand how you feel. You know, I had a similar situation when I was young. At that time, I also thought I could handle both, but actually… I overlooked the other person's true needs."
Mark looked up, curiously at Lynn: "Detective, how did you solve it?"
"To be honest, that relationship didn't last," Lynnshrugged, his tone calm but with a hint of emotion, "But later I understood that the problem wasn't with the work itself, but with communication. You have to try to let her know that your responsibilities and your feelings for her are not contradictory. A little more patience, a little more initiative, and maybe you can find a common rhythm."
Mark lowered his head, seemingly pondering Lynn's words. His fingers lightly tapped the rim of the coffee cup, then he looked up and said: "You have a point, but what if she still feels I haven't changed?"
Lynn patted Mark's shoulder, his tone encouraging: "Then you have to ask yourself how important this relationship is to you. If you think it's worth it, then prove it to her with action. If it really affects your work, I can give you a few days off to deal with it properly. Life and work, indeed, cannot be neglected for the other."
Mark paused, then showed a grateful smile: "Detective, you're really a good boss. Anyone else might have just told me to go reflect."
Lynn chuckled: "I just took a few more detours than you did. Trust me, finding a balance is much more important than just being busy."
The two exchanged smiles, and a tacit understanding grew in the silence. Mark nodded, seemingly having made a decision: "Thank you, Detective. I'll try to talk to her again properly, maybe this time I'll find the answer."
"No problem, if you need help, let me know anytime." Lynn picked up his cup and took a sip, looking out the window, and softly added, "After all, life itself also requires a bit of wisdom to manage, doesn't it?"
Mark smiled and nodded: "Yes, thank you, Detective."
Lynn dragged his tired body back home. As soon as he opened the door, he heard laughter coming from the living room. He peered in and saw Gwen and two friends gathered around the sofa, the table filled with snacks and drinks, while George was holding a plate of freshly baked cookies, walking over with a cheerful smile.
"You young people eat so fast, my freshly baked cookies haven't even cooled down yet!" George said, placing the plate on the table and taking a cookie to taste himself.
Gwen looked up and saw Lynn, waving: "Brother, you're back! Come here quickly, these are my friends Allie and Kevin."
Lynn walked into the living room and nodded slightly: "Hello, I'm Lynn, Gwen's brother."
Allie and Kevin stood up simultaneously and greeted him, but were clearly a bit reserved. George then laughed heartily and said to them: "Don't be shy, Lynn isn't a serious person at all. He was very mischievous when he was little, he used to hide my car keys and make me look for ages!"
"Dad!" Lynn gave George a helpless look, "I haven't done that in over twenty years, do you have to bring it up?"
George waved his hand dismissively: "It's the truth, there's no harm in Gwen's friends knowing."
Gwen covered her mouth, laughing, and Allie and Kevincouldn't help but laugh along. George looked at the empty drink cups and volunteered: "I'll go get you some new sodas, you all keep chatting."
A while later, George returned with a bubbling soda. As he handed it to Kevin, he accidentally fumbled, and some soda spilled on Kevin's pants.
"Oh dear, I'm so sorry!" George quickly grabbed a tissue from the table and handed it to Kevin, saying flusteredly, "Please don't mind, I'm old, and my hands aren't very steady."
Kevin, wiping his pants, smiled and said: "It's okay, Mr. Stacy, these are minor things. Thank you for your hospitality."
George scratched his head awkwardly, while Gwencouldn't help but burst out laughing: "Dad, you're really too cute!"
Lynn also smiled and patted George's shoulder: "It's okay, Dad, Kevin won't mind, right?"
Kevin nodded with a smile: "Of course not, this is the most special soda I've ever had!"