Intertwined

The sea breeze rustled through Pomo Port, and the thick fog gradually began to dissipate, pushed away by the wind and the impact of the music surrounding Alex.

Alex stood tall, his black trench coat stylish and his silver, smooth mask mysterious beneath his hood. He moved through the mist towards two crates of loot, stopping beside them. Alex's gaze swept around; everyone nearby was either killed by him or had been shot by their own men in the panic when he threw the flashbangs.

Blood pooled on the ground, and the bodies of nearly twenty people created a gruesome scene. He stood amidst it all, his black trench coat both mysterious and brutal.

He bent down slightly, lifting the two black crates with both hands. The sea breeze then blew, scattering all the smoke and revealing his mysterious figure.

Just as the sea breeze blew away the smoke, figures holding guns rapidly emerged from the alley. They were well-trained and agile, quickly taking up positions and forming a fan shape, blocking Alex's path on the ground.

"Drop the loot, hands on your head, and get down!"

Al Swan, wearing a thick black bulletproof vest, held his M9 pistol with his right hand, his eagle-like eyes sharp and grim as he stared at the figure before him, shouting in a deep voice.

He had already partnered with a major gang in Central City to escort and clear a location in the lower city for their profit-driven activities within his jurisdiction.

Today was supposed to be an operation to crack down on uncooperative members of the newly formed Severed Hand Gang and the Russian Gang, as well as to establish his authority and demonstrate his capabilities upon his arrival.

He had deployed his police force in an ambush here.

He just hadn't expected the gangs in the lower city to be so brazen, possessing grenades and even rocket launchers with such heavy firepower. At first sight, he had felt a chill and considered retreating, thinking he had underestimated the chaos of the lower city. But upon seeing the mysterious man in the black trench coat resolve the gang members here with just a flashbang and a smoke grenade, his ambition reignited. The other party was just one person; apprehending this mysterious individual would be his first major accomplishment in the lower city.

Having witnessed someone with actual superpowers, Al Swan knew some people were incredibly and immeasurably powerful. He suspected the mysterious person before him was a superpowered individual.

After all, who else would arrive with a loudspeaker and background music, resolving nearly thirty gang members so arrogantly and cleanly?

His superpower was likely the self-contained background music!

But what use was such a superpower?

He moved cautiously and alertly, his body tense, his feet shuffling close to the ground. He released his left hand from supporting his right, raising his left hand to direct the surrounding police officers. His eagle eyes were sharp, and he shouted again, "Drop the loot, hands on your head, and get down! Do you hear me?! Turn off the music!!!"

The System was cooperative. The 3D surround sound music that had been playing from Alex's front retracted, shrinking from a 360-degree spread in front of him to a position 45 degrees behind him, continuing to play there and becoming true 'background music.'

Al Swan!

Alex stood his ground, holding the two black crates in his hands. His deep-set eyes, hidden behind the smooth silver mask, looked at Al Swan! He was somewhat surprised.

So, the ambush was by the police, and it was Al Swan.

He had initially thought it was some other gang trying to double-cross them and hadn't paid them any mind, as he felt no threat. It would have been a good opportunity to promote his superhero deeds, but now it seemed that plan was ruined.

With that thought, Alex had no intention of playing games with the police.

His deep gaze swept over the thirteen police officers forming a fan-shaped encirclement. The muzzles of their guns immediately presented themselves as intersecting straight lines in Alex's mind, focusing on him.

Unless bullets could curve, it would be difficult to harm him.

He activated his senses to their fullest. The sea breeze gently blew, rustling his coat.

In an instant, within his vision, smell, and hearing, the surrounding area of several hundred meters felt like a domain. He could clearly see individual dust particles, hear the air currents shifting, the heartbeats of the thirteen officers, and the sound of Al Swan's right hand nervously rubbing the grip of his gun.

Alex released the black crates he was holding. The moment they were about to fall to the ground, the sleeve of his black trench coat twitched, and throwing knives hidden within it dropped into the gaps between his fingers. Eight gleaming throwing knives flashed as he gripped them tightly.

Alex stepped forward, and eight flashes erupted with brilliant silver light in the darkness, shooting out in eight directions, drawing dazzling silver lines.

"Open fire... Ah...!"

Al Swan's eyes were sharp. He acted quickly, shouting "Open fire" and pulling the trigger the moment he saw Alex release the black crates. A bullet struck where Alex had been standing.

Immediately after, one of the eight flashing lights of the knives embedded itself in his right hand, causing it to tremble in pain and release the pistol, which clattered to the ground. His pupils contracted as he watched the throwing knife disappear into his hand.

The knife light was like a fleeting meteor, arriving in the blink of an eye.

The throwing knives were small, only about the size of an index finger, but they caused the surrounding officers to cry out in pain.

The remaining five officers, hearing the command, immediately opened fire on Alex's previous position. After Alex evaded the first wave of gunfire, the continuous gunshots began to pursue his figure.

Another five cold throwing knives flashed with extremely dazzling silver light in the darkness. The five throwing knives embedded themselves in the backs of the remaining five officers' hands, causing them to cry out in pain.

Al Swan gritted his teeth, his pupils wide, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He watched Alex evade bullets like a phantom and his throwing knives carve instantaneous silver lines like meteors, disarming thirteen officers. He was utterly shocked.

Alex's black figure, amidst Al Swan and the officers painfully clutching their right hands, was like a ghostly specter.

"Officer, please do not impede my efforts to cleanse the evil in the lower city!"

Alex's voice, emanating from beneath his smooth silver mask, was deliberately deep, firm, and fearless.

With that, he bent down again, picked up the two black crates containing the drugs and money as if no one else were present, and sprinted away. Under Al Swan's gaze, he ran and leaped onto the nearest building, moving across the rooftops. In just a few seconds, he disappeared into the dark alley.

Al Swan stared intently at Alex's retreating back. Suddenly, he felt a fleeting sense of déjà vu, as if he had seen this scene somewhere before but couldn't quite place it.

He lowered his face, turned to look at the throwing knife embedded in his hand, and saw the small handle of the knife was engraved with the words "Silver Glow."