245: Chapter 225: mories 245: Chapter 225: mories “Search his information.”
Cervantes squinted his eyes, while the employee from Vanguard Company imdiately uploaded the “Aquaman’s” facial photo into the nationwide population database and the mutant archives for a rapid search.
They found it, his real na is Arthur Raymond, thirty-three years old, from Tulsa, Oklahoma.
He was identified as a Third Level Superpower User ten years ago, captured by Vanguard Company, and has been imprisoned in a mutant prison on the outskirts of Denver since.
His power is to alter his own body, evolving ergency organs to adapt to the environnt.
For example, growing gills underwater, developing water-storing humps in arid conditions, and thick fur in extrely cold environnts.
Wait, so that player went to the prison not just to retrieve the special helt, but also recruited a group of prisoners, inciting them to seek revenge on Vanguard Company?
Cervantes raised an eyebrow; a decade of imprisonnt and torture had left a deep-seated hatred, so there was no need for idle talk to make them cease resisting.
He directly pressed the button, speaking through the intercom system to “Thunder God Thor,” saying: “Take him down, and if possible, try to capture him alive.”
The AT-802 agricultural aircraft has a self-weight of three tons, with a maximum takeoff weight of seven tons.
If people were stuffed into the pesticide storage tanks, it could fit quite a few.
This re Third Level Superpower User might only be the vanguard.
“Understood.”
The counterfeit Thunder God nodded, swinging the Goat-horn Hamr to release thunder, striking the water ahead.
Seeing this, “Aquaman” urgently changed his body into a rubber-like state, reducing his conductivity to withstand the first wave of electric shock.
Then he transford his body again, growing gills, fins, and flippers, diving forcefully into the water like a submarine torpedo, swiftly approaching Thunder God, and with a smack, grabbed his legs and dragged Thor underwater.
Thor, underwater, frantically swung his thunderous Goat-horn Hamr, but the murky water flow, the underwater pressure, and the intense suffocation made him unable to aim precisely, and he could only watch helplessly as he sank downward.
“Useless.”
Cervantes slamd the table and turned towards a goatee-bearded man at the back, “Doctor Strange, go help him.”
“Just a mont, let finish ditating.”
This man with a goatee was sitting cross-legged on the ground, ditating with closed eyes.
Honestly, even though Cervantes himself is a mber of the Wild Laughter Troupe, an abstract guild, the sight of this “Doctor Strange” almost made him lose his composure.
The man wore a suit, draped with a red cloak embroidered with the symbol of the Sun Temple Church, a Scientology badge made of two tallic triangles on his chest, and wearing twin fla rings on his hands…
Every piece of decoration on his body ca from notoriously infamous cults across the United States.
Why is that?
On one hand, this “Doctor Strange” was a mutant with a sowhat unstable mind, and the old imprint might have worsened his condition.
On the other hand, the origin story of the comic’s Doctor Strange is quite bizarre from today’s perspective—seeking treatnt for his illness in what hippies consider the primordially pure Himalayas to learn magic, just like Jobs.
(Jobs, diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, refused surgery and chose a diet of carrots and roots, later consuming cow dung capsules and consulting a spirit dium for treatnt)
After five seconds, “Doctor Strange,” now fully buffed, finally stood up, leaped from the airship, mimicking the gestures with his rings (actually utilizing his Fourth Level spatial superpower), opened a space gate, pulling Thunder God and Aquaman up from the water and tossing them onto the beach.
“I want to see how you adapt to this.”
Doctor Strange continued releasing his spatial power, teleporting the concrete structures that protected the beach from wave impacts, hurling them one by one at Aquaman.
Thud, thud, thud!
Aquaman was crushed under dozens of tons of concrete components, and even though he exerted his superpower to make his body as fluid-like as possible to reduce the strain,
he was still overwheld by the trendous weight, his face turning red and breathing becoming difficult.
“Speak!
Who sent you here?”
Vanguard Company’s capture specialist Alexander, stepping through the space gate created by Doctor Strange, arrived at the beach.
He towered over Aquaman, rapidly asking: “He sent you to divert our attention while he tries to break into Angel City, didn’t he?
Where is he?
Inglewood?
Torrance?
Long Beach?
Is it Long Beach?”
Astutely aware of the subtle shifts in Aquaman’s evasive gaze, Alexander, a master of psychology, felt a thrill of victory and continued to press: “What transportation did he choose?
A passenger plane, an airplane, a yacht, a car, a ship…
is it a car?”
Overhearing their conversation, Cervantes quickly issued an order, “Block the bridges, let no one cross the sea bridge!”
Without needing instructions from Cervantes, Professor N used his ntal superpower to control a school bus driver on the bridge, making him sharply turn the steering wheel and positioning the yellow school bus across the road, completely blocking the lane.
Next, it was ti to check one by one.
Professor N’s spiritual power, like a gentle breeze, swept across the entire bridge and the long line of cars queued at the entrance, ticulously checking every passenger for suspicious targets.
Bang bang—
Two muffled sounds interrupted Professor N’s thoughts.
He abruptly turned his head, only to see two Vanguard Company operatives in the room fall to the ground.
The man who took them down was a muscular man wearing a bat tal helt and a black cloak who broke through the door.
Professor N hurriedly raised his hand to his temple, about to release his superpower to control the mind of the intruder when the man acted quicker, throwing a bat-shaped tal dart that penetrated his palm and firmly nailed it to the wall.
No introduction needed, this was none other than the famous Bruce Wayne, DC Comics’ main hero Batman…
an imposter.
Since Professor N and the two Vanguard Company employees were wearing body caras, the cara captured the chin of the person under the bat hood.
Considering that Aquaman was a prisoner in the superpower users’ prison, the computer imdiately compared this chin photo with the prison database and instantly identified this man.
He was also a prisoner, a Third Level body enhancent superpower user.
At this point it was too late to call Doctor Strange to open a Space Gate; Cervantes made an instant decision, reaching for one of the mobile phones in a nearby plastic crate to teleport into Professor N’s apartnt building.
Cervantes possessed a long-distance teleportation skill called “Tracking Telephone Line”.
To ensure he could appear in any corner of the Los Angeles urban area in ti,
he had people prepare dozens of phones, each kept in call mode, with the other ends spread across various districts of the city.
Suddenly—
Cervantes appeared next to the phone, positioning himself in front of Professor N, precisely catching the tal dart thrown by Batman before lunging forward, swinging his right fist to collide with him, and skillfully snatching the tal helt off Batman’s head with his left hand.
This tal helt, previously taken from the superpower users’ prison by Li Cheng, could block psychic sensing.
It was by this ans that “Batman” fooled Professor N, sneaking all the way to his room.
Once the helt was removed, Professor N seized control of Batman’s mind, leaving him completely immobile.
“Scour his brain, find Angelica and the Transcendent’s position.”
Cervantes said solemnly, and despite his bleeding hand, Professor N, with his eyes turning white, repeated Cervantes’ command.
Batman’s body trembled slightly, blood trickling from his nose, as he fiercely resisted Professor N’s spiritual power, gritting out the words, “I am Batman!”
“You’re not Batman,”
Cervantes reminded, trying to break his resolve with words, “Your na is David, and you’re just a Third Level body enhancent superpower user.”
But Batman wouldn’t buy it, stubborn even as his eyes turned white, defiantly declaring, “I adore Batemans!”
Cervantes twitched the corner of his eye; no, buddy, even if you change your accent, it still doesn’t change the fact you’re a counterfeit.
Could it be that the other Transcendent brainwashed this person?
He took a deep breath and continued, “Dude, you’re really not Batman.
Your na is David.
You have family and children waiting for you; no need to sacrifice yourself for that Transcendent.”
“…
Right, I’m not Batman.”
Batman, after a mont of silence, suddenly said, “I am Cervantes, na Du* Zhi, male, born on December 8, 1999, living at number **, Cuntan Street, Jiangbei District, Chongqing, ID number 500105…”
??!!
Damn it, playing gas with , huh?!
Cervantes finally lost his composure, recalling so unpleasant mories.
This counterfeit Batman’s words revealed two pieces of information.
One, the opponent has so sort of currently unexplained brainwashing capability, controlling these superpower users brought out from prison.
Two, the opponent has close ties with the Special Affairs Bureau but is not a mber of the bureau.
Because only the Special Affairs Bureau knows his real identity in the real world.
If the adversary had been a core mber of the bureau, he could have revealed his identity at the outset of the mission and threatened him to abandon the task, otherwise the Special Affairs Bureau would severely punish him upon his return to the real world.
Batman’s words grew weaker and finally turned into a mumbling murmur.
Cervantes leaned in to try to hear the remaining words, but the next second, Batman suddenly burst forth, pulling out the Thunder Horn from the void, and detonated it with a thunderous explosion.
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