Chapter 469

In Marvel, working for the system.

Las Vegas, the entertainment capital of the world, was like two sides of a coin:

One side was heaven, a paradise of material pleasures.

The other was hell, an inferno of human hearts.

Heaven lay above.

Neon lights and lavish revelry, splendor piled upon splendor, luxury beyond description.

Hell lay below.

Endless greed, the madness of sudden poverty and sudden wealth, a vortex of desire devouring human hearts.

A dim alley.

A man in a hooded cloak jogged briskly along, glancing back from time to time.

Two men in black suits pursued him relentlessly.

The lights grew brighter, the noise clearer.

The exit was close, leading out onto a bustling boulevard.

The hooded man suddenly took a long stride, darted into the crowd, and stopped. He turned around and lowered his hood, revealing sharply defined features.

His long black hair curled slightly.

His skin was bronze.

A high nose bridge, thick lips.

He watched the two suited men with amusement, the corners of his mouth lifting, his eyes provocative, as though saying:

"Come chase me in front of all these people!"

The two men in black suits froze for a moment, caught off guard by that move.

Then they sneered and drew their weapons. One produced brass knuckles—call him Knuckles—and the other drew a knife... Knife Girl?

"Ah! He has a weapon!"

A sharp-eyed young woman spotted what was happening and screamed, though whether in fear or excitement was anyone's guess.

An "empty zone" immediately opened around them. Some called the police, others recorded videos, creating an orderly, harmonious gathering of spectators.

"Stop!" the hooded man shouted, taking a step back.

The two men in black suits acted as though they hadn't heard. Rather than stop, they sped up.

*Stop just because you say