Flying Flowers and Plucked Leaves, Killing with Nuts!

On an international flight bound for New York's Kennedy Airport.

Crawling in the middle seat of economy class, Sing Sing felt so uncomfortable that he didn't want to move at all.

The big white man on the left, who looked to weigh 300 pounds, was snoring so loudly it made my ears ring.

On the right sat an older woman wearing cheap perfume.

The stench, a mixture of body odor and the sour smell of feet, made him roll his eyes.

"Wang Laodeng... you just wait, you stingy old bastard..."

"Sir, peanuts or bread?"

As I was pushing my food cart, a blonde flight attendant happened to walk by.

Before the flight attendant could figure out what was going on, Sing Sing quickly stuffed all five bags of free nuts and three small bread rolls from the trolley basket into his pocket.

"Thank you so much, beautiful lady!"

Adhering to the principles of "if you don't take it, you're a fool" and "eating capitalism out of house and home," Sing Sing grinned smugly. Still feeling it wasn't enough, he swiped a whole box of napkins from the food cart.

The flight attendant stood there dumbfounded, wondering what the man was thanking her for. When she looked down again, everything on the bus was gone.

Sing Sing dragged his feet out of the terminal and went straight into the men's restroom next door, placing his black briefcase on the sink.

He pressed his thumb on the fingerprint lock to open the box, took out the palm-sized memory nano folding black suit, and with a shake, the suit stretched out and became larger.

After adjusting his bow tie in front of the mirror, Sing Sing neatly put on the suit.

"The spring breeze is vexing~ Why is my heart vexed by the spring breeze...?"

After changing into his gear, Old Zhou felt incredibly powerful. He didn't care about Stryker or Silver Peak Consortium; this time, he was going to show these people the true value of China special agents.

Wearing his new clothes Old Zhou left the restroom and scanned the crowd waiting to pick up passengers. He saw an old acquaintance holding a pizza box with a line of large, crooked characters written on it in marker, "Professional Drain Cleaner Zhou".

With a dark expression, Sing Sing strode over in a few steps.

"Who did you call to unclog the sewers? Call him the supervisor! You have no manners!"

Upon recognizing Sing Sing's face wearing sunglasses, the snotty- Slug was so startled she almost burst into tears.

"Brother Zhou, you're finally here! I thought you'd been arrested by the FBI and dissected!"

"Um... about the final payment for the intelligence from last time, and the airport pickup fee this time, how about it...?"

Sing Sing pulled out three crumpled mini bread rolls from his pocket, along with a handful of peanuts he'd swiped on the plane, and stuffed them into Slug's hand.

"Here you go, this is first-class only. You can't buy this anywhere else, no matter how much money you have. One bite and you're hit with the taste of capitalism. It'll be two hundred dollars for you, keep the change!"

Looking at the bread roll in his hand, Slug looked disgusted.

"You even have an airline logo on this! Did you steal it from the food cart?"

"Fine, give it back! You really don't know its value!"

Sing Sing Chow quickly stuffed the three shriveled bread rolls back into his pocket.

"Brother Zhou, let's stop messing around, okay? This place is really creepy right now, let's get in the car."

They squeezed into the airport's open-air parking lot, winding their way to a corner where a badly painted, secondhand Ford van was parked. Several crooked English words were sprayed on its body in bright red paint: "Bob's Drain Cleaning" and "Eighty Dollars a Time."

"You don't usually poop in this beat-up car, do you?"

"Brother Zhou, we're on a tight budget. The little money you gave us last time was only enough to buy this scrapped car after paying the rent."

The Slug, familiar with the route, crawled into the driver's cab, pulled out two wires from under the dashboard, touched them together, and with a flash of sparks, the exhaust pipe shook violently and spewed out a large plume of black smoke.

Sing Sing sat down in the passenger seat with a look of disgust, and looked down to touch his suit, as if afraid that his high-tech battle suit would be tainted with the sour smell of capitalism.

As soon as the Slug stepped on the gas, the van wobbled out of the parking lot and merged into the traffic on the highway.

"After the bombing of the base and the Silver Peak Consortium incident, Stryker deployed all his Reavers. Now they're hunting down Mutants all over the place; if they can't catch Mutants, they'll hunt down anyone who's had contact with Mutants."

"I've heard that Stryker has even found your flight information!"

"They found my flight. Did they know I was flying economy class? Could they reimburse me for an upgrade? If so..."

"Bang!"

The van was hit at the rear, and the entire vehicle lurched forward out of control.

"They're here! It's the Reavers! Damn, how did they get here so fast?!"

In the rearview mirror, two heavy SUVs followed closely behind the car. Sing Sing turned his head to look out the window and saw the passenger window slowly rolling down. A burly man wearing a black hood leaned out, holding a submachine gun tightly in his hand.

A volley of bullets swept through, shattering the van's left side mirror into pieces.

"Are you trying to stage an accident? Do you even know how to drive? Why are you crashing into people if you don't have full insurance?!"

Sing Sing Chow rolled down the passenger window, muttering under his breath, "Damn it, you're forcing me to waste food!"

He held the nut he'd just taken from the plane in his right hand, his thumb and middle finger clenched tightly. "Let's go!"

The nut, carrying a strong gust of wind, struck the burly man on the forehead. His eyes rolled back, and he slumped back into the passenger seat, a nut now deeply embedded in the center of his forehead.

The driver of the Raptor SUV watched helplessly as his partner slumped into the seat, his hand trembled, and he jerked the steering wheel sharply to the side.

Sing Sing calmly sat back in his seat and rolled up the window. "All done. Drive carefully, I get carsick."

"Zhou... Brother Zhou, what... what did you just throw out? Was it a grenade?"

"Nuts, damn capitalism! Free stuff is always so hard. I almost broke my tooth when I ate one before."

"Oh my god, there's only one left!"

Another Raptor saw the car in front go around it, accelerated forward, and opened the sunroof on the roof, from which a heavy machine gun was carried out by the people inside.

"Are you never going to stop, Slug? Pull over to the side of the road!"

"Stop the car? Dude, are you crazy? That's an M249 squad automatic weapon! One burst of fire and this piece of junk is nothing but scrap metal!"

"Stop talking nonsense, I told you to stop, so stop!"

Sing Sing pushed open the car door and jumped out, grabbing Pig Butchering Knife from behind his waist.

At this moment, they were in the back seat of the Raptor SUV.

Jackal, the leader of the sixth squad of the Reavers Special Operations Group, stared at the man in front of him.

Before setting off, General Stryker personally issued a stern order to strictly intercept any Asian men disembarking from the target flight, because these men had clues about the missing Weapon X, and their fate was not to be considered.

The Jackal originally thought this would be an extremely easy task.

What kind of ability can a poor Asian man who takes economy class and then has to ride in a beat-up van after getting off the plane have?

At best, he's just an external liaison.

He only realized something was wrong a minute ago.

I watched helplessly as the passenger in the car in front of me was shot down by an unidentified flying object.

"Holy crap, is that guy Mutants?!"

The machine gunner standing on the roof of the vehicle was shouting angrily down below.

"Charge! Run him over and kill him!"