Kimiko!

Frenchie asked frankly, his tone sincere:

"Hughie, do you know what clues to look for? Even if the target walked right past you, would you spot anything unusual right away?"

Hughie was instantly speechless. With no rebuttal, he could only push open the car door in silence, get out, and walk over to Butcher to rejoin the team.

He turned to look at Solomon beside him, composed and steady, every word cutting to the heart of the matter, and envy filled his heart.

The two of them had joined the team at almost the same time, starting from the same point.

Yet even now, he was still that rash, clumsy ordinary man who held everyone back, while Solomon had long since become an indispensable core member through his meticulous thinking and formidable strength. Everyone instinctively listened to his judgment and followed his plans.

A faint unwillingness to accept this quietly arose in Hughie's heart, and he secretly hoped he could become strong enough too.

The four split up, checking the surrounding shops one by one along the street.

Less than ten minutes later, Solomon received word from the team.

He hurried to the alley behind the noodle shop and spotted Butcher and the other two standing at the entrance to an underground supermarket from a distance.

Solomon raised his eyebrows slightly, understanding dawning on him.

He had thought the hideout was in a shop's basement, not an entire underground supermarket. It seemed he had remembered it wrong.

He strode over to the three of them. Hughie's face brimmed with excitement as he eagerly shared his discovery:

"I just went around the back and found this underground supermarket. It's huge. There must be a spacious storeroom down there. I think the hideout we're looking for has to be here!"

Solomon nodded slightly and held a hand straight out to Frenchie.

"Give me the halothane."

Frenchie instinctively glanced at Butcher. Only after receiving his silent nod of approval did he take the halothane from behind his back and hand it over, warning solemnly:

"It's highly toxic and harmful if inhaled. Pull the safety pin and throw it immediately. Everyone needs to cover their nose and mouth right away. Absolutely no exposure to or inhalation of the gas."

Solomon took the halothane, his fingers tightening slightly around it, barely able to contain his excitement.

Kimiko's self-healing ability was top-tier, maximizing endurance, survival, and room for error. As long as he successfully secured it, his strength would soar once again.

"Get ready. We're going in."

The four entered the underground supermarket. A circuit revealed nothing unusual, but they did find a tightly locked iron storeroom door at the very back.

Looking at the closed iron door, Hughie asked quietly:

"Are we going in?"

Frenchie chuckled and reassured him:

"Don't be scared, Little Hughie!"

Somewhat embarrassed, Hughie protested feebly:

"Could you stop calling me that? I'm 1.82 meters tall."

Frenchie said nothing. He silently took a compact set of lockpicks from his pocket, his fingers flying with practiced precision, and unlocked the door in just a few moves.

The lock clicked softly, and the iron door sprang open a crack.

They exchanged glances and fell silent in unspoken agreement, bending low as they slipped noiselessly into the storeroom.

The storeroom's interior was far more expansive than it appeared. Deprived of sunlight all day long, the space was dark and damp, its stale air filled with a strange smell of mingled rust and dust.

Three or four separate compartments stood at the far end of their view. Not a single stack of goods occupied the empty space, leaving it nothing like an ordinary warehouse.

The cold concrete walls, rust-covered iron doorframes, and oppressive, deathly stillness made the place feel more like an abandoned private dungeon.

Butcher's gaze darkened, and he turned to exchange a look with Frenchie.

Both raised their hands in unison, quietly drawing the guns at their waists.

They led the way with guns raised, bodies taut and every step cautious, carefully checking every blind spot around them.

The group slowly advanced. They had gone only a few meters when they saw three figures beside a table in a nearby room.

Three guards sat lounging at rest, several rifles neatly arranged beside them. Their cold muzzles were thoroughly intimidating; these were clearly fully armed, dedicated guards.

Solomon and the others held their breath, concealing themselves completely in the dim shadows as they carefully edged along the wall without daring to make a sound. They successfully skirted the three guards' field of vision and reached the deepest part of the storeroom.

At the far end of their view, a jumble of boxes sat on the floor and a table.

"Split up and look for Compound V."

Butcher gave the order in a low voice, keeping it barely above a whisper.

Solomon did not stop, however, his gaze fixed firmly on a separate room with an iron door at the very back.

Tightening his grip on the halothane in one hand, he steadily approached alone.

Bars were set into the iron door. Through the gaps, he could clearly see a heavy iron cage standing in the middle of the room.

Inside the cage, a woman sat alone with her legs drawn up, hugging her knees. Her long hair hung down over her face, her slight, helpless figure exuding a frailty that tugged at the heart.

Solomon's eyes remained unruffled. He had already confirmed his target.

Kimiko.

Without hesitation, he pulled out the halothane's safety pin. Just as he was about to raise his hand and throw it inside, a force suddenly clamped tightly around his wrist, stopping his movement cold.

"What are you doing?"

Frenchie's voice carried an urgent demand to stop. His hand was tense as he gripped Solomon's wrist tightly, his eyes filled with incomprehension and resistance.

Solomon did not struggle or exert any force. His expression remained calm, his voice level but certain:

"She's a supe."

Frenchie looked through the bars at the frail Kimiko in the cage. The sight of her lonely, helpless state instantly filled his heart with intense empathy.

That helpless, huddled figure looked so much like his younger self, mired in suffering with no one to save him. In an instant, sympathy overwhelmed all reason.

"How is that possible?"

Frenchie's brow furrowed deeply, his voice full of compassion.

"She just looks like a poor soul being held prisoner here. We should be getting her out."

The disturbance finally drew the others' attention. Butcher hurried over with Hughie, his gaze passing through the iron door's bars to settle on the woman in the cage.

"Shen's right."

Butcher's eyes were sharp. He instantly spotted the inconsistency and gave a serious reminder:

"Get a grip, Frenchie. Three guards armed to the teeth keeping heavy watch, and an iron cage to hold an ordinary person alone? That makes no sense."

He paused, then continued his analysis:

"This is a secret Compound V hideout. This batch was most likely prepared for her. She's definitely not an innocent ordinary person."

Frenchie stiffened slightly, his expression hesitant. The struggle within him intensified, and he still wanted to argue.

Butcher raised a hand to his shoulder and shook his head gently, signaling with his eyes for him not to act rashly.

After a long silence, Frenchie looked up at Butcher, his gaze pleading:

"Just let me try talking to her once. Just once."

He looked at the lonely Kimiko in the cage, his eyes full of emotion and his heart filled with pity.

At that moment of deadlock, hurried footsteps and shouts suddenly rang out from the back of the storeroom, shattering the silence.

Several fully armed guards rushed over at the sound, their gun muzzles swinging toward the group in unison as they shouted furiously:

"Who are you?! Get away from that door!"