The Alien Examination
Inside a secret government research base in Coast City.
At the end of a long, narrow corridor appeared an unassuming Black woman. She was short, only five feet one inch, yet she was exceptionally sturdy. Paired with her hard, cold face, she naturally projected a forceful authority.
The woman walked to the door of the isolation room and pushed it open.
"Hello, Dr. Hammond."
The man in the room turned, revealing an odd face. His head was enormous, nearly 1.5 times the size of a normal person's. When he looked up, the effect was indescribably comical, like a clown making his debut, making one want to laugh.
The woman did not smile. Her eyes and brows were devoid of any emotion. This demeanor garnered a slight liking from Hector Hammond.
"I've seen you. In my father's office. Your name is Amanda Waller?"
"Yes. I served as your father's assistant ten years ago. Let's skip the small talk, Dr. Hammond. You must know why you've been asked to come."
Hector gave a hissing chuckle, an unconcealed fanaticism in his cloudy eyes.
"Where is it?"
"Please follow me."
The two passed through three sealed doors and entered a large, empty laboratory. On a rack in the center of the lab was a specialized biological containment unit. "It" was inside.
Hector quickly approached, pressing his head against the unit.
"Hello, little one. We finally meet."
Amanda warned, "Dr. Hammond, it is top secret. It must not be leaked."
"I know the rules; I don't need reminding."
Hector waved his hand impatiently. His gaze moved over "its" body. When he saw the indentation on the chest, his face turned grim. "What caused this injury?"
"It was like this when we dug it up. No one else has touched it."
"Dug up!"
Hector keenly seized the keyword.
"Yes. It was deliberately buried. It had already made contact with others before we arrived. Professor, please hurry. We need the most definitive data in the shortest amount of time."
Hector pointed toward the door.
Amanda said nothing more and left the lab. She wasn't worried about the situation inside. Hector's father was one of the key directors of this organization, and his father played a crucial role in Hector obtaining such a rare, world-class opportunity at his age.
Examining an alien was a very dangerous job, yet Hector handled it methodically. In fact, he had simulated similar scenarios countless times in his dreams. What to do, what not to do, the procedures, the progress—every step was firmly memorized.
There were always certain eccentric people who despised their own kind but held a fanatical interest in those abstract extraterrestrial beings. Hector Hammond was one of them; he loved aliens, almost to the point of obsession.
He put on a specialized protective suit, opened the containment unit, and used tweezers and scissors to extract tissue cells from various parts of "its" body. When the tweezers touched the wound on the chest, a strange echo resonated in his mind.
In blackest day, in brightest night;
Beware your fears made into light;
Let those who try to stop what's right;
...
Fear!
Consume!
Power!
Hector screamed, stumbling backward. He stopped only when he crashed into a table and chair.
"Who? Who is speaking?"
He looked around. He was alone in the small, sealed room. No other presence.
"Could it be..."
Realizing what he was facing, a look of terror mixed with intense joy flashed in Hector's eyes. He swallowed, strode back to "it," cut into the chest trauma, and used tweezers to pull a rice-grain-sized yellow crystal from the purplish-brown granulation.
Hector stared blankly at the yellow crystal, his entire mind consumed by it.
In blackest day, in brightest night;
Beware your fears made into light;
Let those who try to stop what's right;
...
The Hunter and the Friend
When the Young Master's Gang was first established, to enhance his subordinates' fighting power, Luke often had them play a hunting game.
Two groups—one the prey, one the hunter—would fight in a restricted area, with the victor earning generous rewards. Later, as the gang expanded, the hunting game evolved into the Killing Game.
When dealing with rival gangs, Luke would leave their leaders alive, toss them into abandoned villages without network access, and send his subordinates to hunt them. The first person to capture the prey would not only gain the right of execution but also half of the prey's assets.
Half the assets amounted to at least several hundred thousand dollars—a sum sufficient to drive people mad. The Killing Game quickly became one of the trademarks of the Young Master's Gang.
Humans are intelligent creatures with logic, emotion, and cognition. The Killing Game stripped all these away, leaving only the most primitive hunting instinct.
In some ways, it was a completely inhumane activity that brought only blood and terror. Fear spreads. When news circulated of well-known gang bosses meeting brutal ends in the Killing Game, the entire underworld of Coast City trembled.
A rabbit doesn't feel fear when it's shot in the head because it dies too quickly. But if it's surrounded by a pack of gray wolves and toyed with, the constant, moment-by-moment fear of death transforms into an unshakeable nightmare that grips everyone's heart.
During that period, the sky over Coast City was perpetually dark with clouds. It wasn't until the Old Master intervened that the Killing Game was pulled from history, remaining only as an occasional "reserved" project for the Young Master's Gang.
In fact, Hal Jordan's assessment was correct: the Young Master's Gang was a cloud of gloom over Coast City. He tried to eliminate this gloom but failed. Failure requires payment.
The game had started. Dio's perpetually expressionless, icy face actually showed a rare look of excitement.
Luke said helplessly, "Don't tell me you're going to participate, too?"
"I haven't played this kind of game in three years."
"Three years! That is quite a long time. Go ahead, then." He paused, adding, "Leave him alive."
A flicker of confusion crossed Dio's eyes, but he didn't ask why. He put on his clothes and left the villa without looking back.
Luke walked up behind Carol, who was preparing breakfast, wrapped his arms around her waist, and whispered in her ear.
"I found the person."
The girl gasped in surprise. "That fast?"
Luke gave a vague affirmation. "You know him. Hal Jordan."
Clink!
A plate dropped to the floor. Carol turned around, her face full of disbelief. "How is that possible? Are you sure?"
Luke nodded.
"The ring is right here in my hand."
Carol instantly fell silent, hanging her head, unsure what to say.
Luke stroked her hair, consoling her in a low voice. "I originally didn't want to involve you, but I thought it over and felt it wouldn't be right, since he's a friend you grew up with."
The girl hesitated. "Could you..."
Luke extended a finger and pressed it against her lips.
"You'll find out when the time comes."
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