Disregard

Alex's kick was fast and vicious. He had never wanted to waste words on someone like Al Swan. The Swan family's grand reputation meant nothing to him; it would only provoke Alex's fury.

Alex had never seen anyone so stupid. If Al had gathered enough officers—at least a dozen—to surround The Multiplicity, Alex would not have been so angry. With more than ten guns trained on The Multiplicity, it would not have dared recklessly create clones. Even if it resisted, those guns alone could have taken out over thirty clones, and Alex himself had the ability to chase down more than sixty clones alone. It would have been an almost foolproof situation.

Yet Al had dared to appear alone before Danton Black, startling The Multiplicity into fleeing. Even though Alex had pursued it through more than a dozen streets, The Multiplicity had still escaped.

What angered Alex was that The Multiplicity had gotten away.

In the future, Central City would enter an era of frequent superpowered incidents. There would be no shortage of chances to capture superpowered individuals. He would not remain at the station forever, nor would he always be a police officer. If others could capture superpowered individuals and maintain order in the city, Alex would be happy to reap the benefits.

But Al Swan's stupidity was truly more than he could tolerate.

Now that The Multiplicity had escaped and become wary, finding it again would not be so easy.

All of this was because of Al Swan's arrogant overconfidence and reckless hunger for credit.

Al Swan did not have time to react. The imperious air around him, the faint smile at his lips, the arrogant expression on his face—all of it shattered in an instant as an overwhelming force slammed into his chest.

The blow left his chest tight, nearly making him vomit blood. The pain of his ribcage reached straight into his brain. His vision nearly went dark as his body suddenly flew backward. His eyes widened in disbelieving pain, and in midair, his heart seemed like a pressure pump, frantically compressing his chest.

"Pfft!"

A mouthful of blood sprayed through the air, turning into a mist.

The scene fell deathly silent. Everyone's thoughts froze for a moment. Who could have expected Alex to be so violent, kicking Al Swan hard enough to send him flying and coughing up blood?

Kevin and the others stood dumbfounded behind Alex until Al Swan's body crashed face-first onto the polished marble with a heavy thud, jolting everyone awake.

Kevin and the others hurriedly drew their Glock 17 pistols from their waists and aimed them at Alex's back.

"Stop!"

"What are you trying to do?!"

"Stop."

"Let Al go!"

Seeing their boss's eyes rolled white, his white shirt stained red, blood foam drooling from the corner of his mouth and dripping onto the polished marble, Kevin tensed instinctively. His eyes reddened as he raised his Glock 17 and shouted furiously.

This was practically a naked blow to their dignity, and it filled them with rage.

"Stop, Kevin! All of you, lower your guns!"

Jenson stepped beside Kevin, pressed down Kevin's gun hand, and forced the pistol lower. His eyes widened in fury as he sternly shouted, "What are you doing?! Pointing guns at one of your own?"

Turning around, Jenson's expression was equally ugly as he snapped at Alex, "Alex, do you know what you're doing? Assaulting a fellow officer? They need an explanation, and you need to answer to the chief!"

Jenson had appeared and shouted at exactly the right time. He did not know what had happened, but he truly feared that Kevin and the others would fire in their agitation. Once shots were fired, the situation would become very difficult to contain.

So after he invoked the chief, Kevin and the others remained red-faced and agitated, but they still had enough reason and reservations not to fire recklessly. Jenson breathed a sigh of relief.

Al Swan lay sprawled across the polished marble, completely drained of strength. Alex's kick had been truly vicious, cracking his breastbone and sending pain deep into his bones. Every breath felt as though the shattered bones were stabbing into his heart and lungs. His head swam, and even breathing hurt.

He barely raised his head, struggling and painfully drawing in blood foam. He vaguely watched specks of blood mist on the marble. Within his blurred vision, Alex's footsteps came closer, one step at a time, treading across the blood-speckled marble toward him. His sight grew darker and darker. His vast field of vision was gradually filled entirely by Alex's approaching shoes. At last, his vision blurred into darkness, and he passed out.

Alex stood above Al Swan and looked down at him. He watched as Al struggled to move his limbs, trying to crawl to his feet. Every movement drove the pain deeper into his bones, and more bloody foam spilled from his mouth. In the end, his limbs went limp, and he collapsed on the floor. The unwillingness in his eyes faded as they lost focus and closed, and he passed out.

Alex said nothing. He stared at Al Swan until the man lay unconscious on the floor, incapable of resisting, then turned toward Jenson and walked over.

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

Alex passed Jenson and Kevin's group, their faces pale and ugly, sweat beading on their foreheads. They no longer had the elevator's arrogant swagger, nor the mocking, contemptuous expressions they had worn while surrounding Alex. All that remained was sweaty tension and uneasy silence in their eyes.

Alex did not spare them a glance.

Kevin's eyes flickered with unwillingness as the Glock 17 in his grip trembled faintly and lowered. He did not dare do anything. At this moment, no matter what, he did not dare fire.

As Alex passed him, the complete disregard in his bearing felt like a bayonet scraping across his heart, leaving him with a faint, maddening sting.

This was a clash between Alex and Al. He was merely an insignificant nobody. No matter how much he mocked Alex or taunted him with cold, veiled words, he could not affect Alex at all.

Al Swan had been kicked to the ground, powerless to fight back. It was as though Alex had trampled directly on Kevin's face, humiliating him beyond measure and igniting anger in his heart.

Swallowing his fury, he holstered his gun. Ignoring Jenson's subtle expression and gaze, he approached Al Swan with the other officers to administer first aid.

Watching Alex enter the elevator, Kevin lowered his head, hatred flashing through his eyes.

Inside the elevator.

Alex patted down his clothes and straightened them. He removed his glasses, one corner cracked in a spiderweb pattern, and gently wiped the tiny blood droplets from the lenses with the lining of his coat. When he finished, he held the glasses toward the elevator's soft corner light to inspect them. The blood had been rubbed into the spiderweb cracks, forming streaks of crimson through the fractures. They looked strangely bewitching, and Alex frowned.

"Ding."

The elevator reached the first floor. Alex stepped out, casually tossed his glasses into the trash can beside the elevator, ran his fingers through his hair and brushed his bangs up from his forehead. He walked out through the doors of the Leighton Hotel, passed the officers greeting him and the reporters holding out microphones and cameras, and headed deeper into the street.