Disregard

Alex's kick was fast and vicious. He hadn't wanted to talk to someone like Al Swan for long anyway. The Swan family's prestige didn't intimidate him. It only served to ignite Alex's anger.

Alex had never met anyone so stupid. If Al had mobilized a proper police force, with at least ten officers surrounding The Multiplicity, Alex wouldn't have been so angry. With over a dozen guns pointed at The Multiplicity, it wouldn't dare to randomly split into decoys. Even if it resisted, those dozen guns firing would be enough to take out over thirty decoys. Coupled with his own ability to pursue over sixty decoys individually, it was an almost foolproof situation.

But he had dared to show up alone in front of Danton Black, startling The Multiplicity and causing it to flee. Even after chasing it for over ten blocks, The Multiplicity had still escaped.

What made Alex angry was letting The Multiplicity escape.

The future Midtown would be an era of frequent superhuman activity, and opportunities to capture superhumans would not be lacking. He wouldn't always stay in the police station, nor would he always be a police officer. If others could capture superhumans and maintain the city's order, Alex would gladly let them reap the rewards.

But Al Swan's foolish behavior was truly unbearable for him.

With The Multiplicity having escaped and become wary, finding it again wouldn't be simple.

All of this was due to Al Swan's arrogance and his reckless ambition.

Al Swan hadn't reacted. His air of looking down on the world, the faint smile on his lips, and his haughty expression were instantly shattered as his chest was suddenly assaulted by an immense force.

His chest was struck with such force that he felt like spitting blood. The pain in his chest bones reached his brain, and his vision almost went black. His body was suddenly sent flying backward, his eyes showing disbelief and pain. In mid-air, his heart felt like a pump being forced, desperately squeezing his chest cavity.

Puff

A mouthful of blood sprayed out in mid-air, turning into a mist of blood.

The scene instantly fell silent. Everyone's minds froze for a moment. Who could have imagined Alex being so violent, kicking Al Swan directly and sending him flying, spitting blood?

Kevin and the others were stunned behind Alex. It wasn't until Al Swan's body crashed onto the smooth marble floor like a fallen sack that the crowd snapped back to reality.

Kevin and the others quickly drew their Glock 17 handguns from their waists and pointed them at Alex's back.

"Stop!"

"What do you want to do!"

"Stop."

"Let go of Al!"

Seeing their boss's eyes roll back, his white shirt stained red, and blood foam dribbling from his mouth onto the smooth marble floor in such a pathetic state, Kevin couldn't help but feel a surge of panic. With red eyes, he held his Glock 17 and shouted angrily.

This was practically a naked assault on their dignity, making them furious.

"Stop, Kevin, you guys put your guns down!"

Jenson stepped up beside Kevin, grabbing Kevin's gun-holding hand and lowering it. He glared sternly and shouted, "What are you doing! Pointing your guns at your own people?"

Turning, Jenson, with an equally grim expression, berated Alex, "Alex, do you know what you're doing? Assaulting a colleague? They need an explanation, and you need to answer to the chief!"

Jenson's appearance and timely reprimand were crucial. He didn't know what had happened, but he was truly afraid that Kevin and the others would impulsively open fire. Once shots were fired, the situation would be difficult to manage.

Therefore, after he invoked the chief's name, Kevin and the others, despite their flushed and agitated faces, still maintained their reason and caution, not daring to fire casually. This made Jenson breathe a sigh of relief.

Al Swan lay prone on the smooth marble floor, completely drained of strength. Alex's kick was truly brutal, fracturing his chest bones and causing pain that pierced to the marrow. Now, every breath felt like the torn bones were piercing his heart and lungs. His head was swimming, and even breathing was accompanied by pain.

He struggled to lift his head, gasping painfully through the blood foam. He looked hazily at the specks of blood mist on the marble floor. Within his field of vision, Alex's blurred footsteps stepped closer and closer on the blood-splattered marble, approaching him. His vision grew darker and darker, his entire sight dominated by Alex's approaching shoes. Finally, his vision blurred into darkness, and he fainted.

Alex looked down from above at Al Swan, watching him struggle feebly to get up. Every movement intensified the bone-deep pain and caused more blood foam to erupt. Eventually, his limbs went limp, and he collapsed onto the ground, his eyes losing focus unwillingly before closing, and he passed out.

He didn't speak, staring at Al Swan until the man lay on the ground, unconscious and unable to resist. Only then did he turn and walk towards Jenson.

"Tell the chief to check the surveillance footage in the information department, and you'll know what Al Swan did."

Alex walked past Jenson and the pale-faced, sweating Kevin and the others. They no longer had the arrogant swagger they displayed in the elevator, nor the mocking and disdainful expressions as they surrounded Alex. All that remained was sweaty tension and the uneasy silence of dilated pupils.

Alex completely ignored them.

Kevin's eyes flickered with unconcealed resentment. The Glock 17 in his hand trembled as he lowered it. He didn't dare to do anything; at this moment, no matter what, he didn't dare to fire.

Alex passed by him, ignoring his presence as if he were a bayonet, scraping against his heart and causing a sharp, almost maddening pain.

This was a confrontation between Alex and Al. He was just an insignificant pawn. No matter how much he mocked Alex or subtly taunted him with veiled words, it wouldn't affect Alex.

Al Swan being kicked to the ground, unable to resist, felt like being trampled on his face, causing him extreme humiliation and igniting his rage.

Taking a deep breath filled with anger, he tucked his gun back into his waist. Ignoring Jenson's subtle glance and the concerned expressions of his colleagues, he approached Al Swan to provide first aid.

Seeing Alex walk into the elevator, he lowered his head, a flash of hatred in his eyes.

Inside the elevator.

Alex patted his clothes, tidying them up. He took off his glasses, which had a spiderweb crack on one lens, and gently wiped the small bloodstains on the lenses with the inner lining of his jacket. After wiping them, he held his glasses up to the soft light in the corner of the elevator to check. The bloodstains had smeared into the cracked web, forming bloody lines that looked quite striking. Alex frowned.

Ding

The elevator reached the first floor. Alex stepped out, casually tossing his glasses into the trash can next to the elevator. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it up from his forehead. He walked out of the doors of the Leighton Hotel, past the greeting police officers and the reporters with microphones and cameras, his back receding into the depths of the street.