"Professional Team"

That morning, inside a New York bank, chaos reigned.

At the sight of the heavily armed robbers, panic crept across nearly everyone's faces.

Of course, not everyone was afraid. Bai Ye surveyed the expressions of the people in the bank.

Aside from himself, there was another man at the scene who remained calm in the face of danger. His right hand unconsciously reached toward his waist. He was probably, like Bai Ye, an underworld operative here on business.

Hurry up and take the money. Make it quick, Bai Ye prayed inwardly as he crouched among the hostages with his hands over his head.

He was not worried at all about losing his money if it got stolen. After all, this was not really robbing his money—it was a slap in the mutants' faces.

If they really let this bunch get away with it, then this bank under the Brotherhood's banner would have no authority left at all.

When you made a living in this line of work and wanted to stay in business, your reputation was everything. Even terrorists had to keep their word. If they said they would kill an entire family, they would not leave a single one alive.

Bai Ye was certain that once these robbers walked out the bank doors, the offended mutants would find them that very night, grind their bones to dust, and naturally return every stolen dollar.

So he actually hoped these idiots would hurry up, finish robbing the place, and get the hell out. That would make resolving this matter much easier.

"Move it! Get all the cash and notes in the bank out here right now! Cooperate obediently, and don't touch the alarm, or I'll shoot you dead!" A robber pointed his submachine gun at the staff behind the counter as he threatened them.

But just as he spoke, gunfire suddenly erupted inside the bank, followed by a chorus of screams.

A security guard who had tried to draw his gun and fight back from the shadows was immediately hit several times and collapsed. One of the robbers who had opened fire also clutched his bleeding waist and let out a howl of pain.

"Scott!" Seeing his companion get shot, the robber who had just been pointing his gun at the customer service staff cried out in worry. He rushed over, no longer caring about the money, and anxiously checked on his partner's injuries.

"Aris, go make the customer service staff open the vault first. We don't have much time," urged the robber guarding the hostages.

"I'm not robbing any money. Come on, I'll take you to the hospital right now." Aris ignored him completely and supported Scott.

"Forget about me. Go get the money. My wound isn't fatal. The money is more important," the robber said, clutching his wound in agony.

Bai Ye: ...

Even Bai Ye, who had watched the whole thing unfold, was dumbfounded. How had he run into such weirdos? Guys, this was a bank robbery. Did they think they were acting in some melodrama? Were they robbing the bank or not?

After a round of fumbling about, they finally began robbing the bank properly. One group held the bank manager hostage and made him open the vault, while the other looted the cash from the counters.

But seeing how reckless they were, Bai Ye's blood pressure shot up. The robber at the counter took every last stack of cash from beneath it in one go, completely without precaution.

Some banks placed alarm triggers beneath the cash at the counters so they could alert the police immediately after a robbery. Experienced crews would usually put a few sheets of paper underneath while taking the money.

Now, there was no need to guess. The police station had already received word about these idiots and was preparing to respond.

Meanwhile, the robbers remained completely unaware of the situation. Led by the manager, they opened the vault. Their eyes gleamed as they saw the piles of cash, gold, notes, and heaps of valuables inside.

What they did not know was that the valuables in the vault were goods stored there by various gangs. Looting the vault meant offending half of New York's underworld. The last person who had dared do that had not even had a single intact organ left behind.

Sure enough, as they ran about in circles over the money, thanks to their series of brain-dead moves, less than three minutes had passed before they could even fill their sacks with cash when urgent sirens blared outside. Seven or eight police cars immediately surrounded the bank.

"Boss, the police have us surrounded," one robber said nervously.

"Damn it! Didn't they say the police were holding a press conference today? How did they get here so fast?" the Robber Leader demanded angrily.

"Fuck..." Bai Ye rolled his eyes from where he hid among the crowd. So that was why these people had chosen this time to make their move.

Although he had been too engrossed in working out lately to know anything about this press conference, anyone with a brain could figure it out. Did employees get the day off just because their boss was holding a press conference?

New York City covered more than a thousand square kilometers, with seventy-seven police precincts and over thirty thousand sworn officers. What exactly had these people been thinking? Had they not done any research at all?

They were not just amateurs anymore. Aside from their practiced shooting and muscular bodies, Bai Ye suspected their brains had been completely replaced by muscle.

At this point, Bai Ye had completely resigned himself to it. He simply crouched to the side and watched the six or seven robbers put on their little monkey show.

With his current physical condition, if he did not want to keep a low profile, killing these people would take minutes. He was not afraid of them at all.

"Everyone inside, come out! You're surrounded! Drop your weapons and surrender immediately!" A police officer outside shouted through a loudspeaker. The repeated urging darkened the robbers' faces.

"Big brother, what do we do?" The face behind one robber's mask was deathly pale.

"Negotiate with them. Make them prepare a van for us, then we'll take the hostages and leave," said the Robber Leader. His gaze swept over the customers crouched in the corner before settling on Bai Ye at once.

"You, come here!" the leader said, pointing his submachine gun at Bai Ye.

"Me?" Bai Ye froze. He had not expected this to involve him, but he obediently stood and walked over.

"Yes, you'll be the hostage. In a moment, you'll stand at the entrance and state our demands to them. We'll be behind you with guns pointed at you. Try to run, and we'll shoot," the leader said, looking at Bai Ye's face with certainty.

"Oh." Bai Ye nodded. Being a hostage was no big deal.

At the same time, reporters from all kinds of newspapers had gathered atop a building in New York's Times Square. Holding cameras and recording equipment, they looked toward Director George on the stage and fired off one highly leading question after another.

Because he understood these media outlets' habits well and had memorized his script the night before, George answered smoothly. But the next moment, the deputy director hurried over from the side and quickly whispered something into George's ear.

"What? Lansheer Bank in New York was robbed too?" George could not quite keep his composure as he confirmed it.

The moment those words fell, the reporters below lit up with excitement.

Click! Click! Click!

Countless cameras snapped their shutters. Amid the blinding flashes, the panicked appearances of the director and deputy director onstage were immediately captured.