Chapter Five Hundred Twenty-Two [Entering the Ga, Cooperation]
New York, Brooklyn.
January 1st, 2003, morning.
After the all-night New Year’s celebration, this world-famous tropolis seed still hungover, not yet awakened. Although Christmas is more significant in this country, the atmosphere of the New Year had also been hyped up.
Occasionally, on the streets, one could spot pedestrians who, after getting up in the morning, clearly had drunken expressions and stumbled along aimlessly. There were also young girls with disheveled makeup, their faces bearing regret and the exhaustion left from the revelry.
A police car was parked at the curb, and the two NYPD officers inside had been watching the entrance of a restaurant across the street for quite so ti.
The officer inside the car was very overweight, holding a doughnut in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.
Well... The problem of obesity within the NYPD is world-famous in police circles.
The person they were watching was obviously a bit suspicious.
Across the street was a Black-owned restaurant—a barbecue joint selling ribs.
However, at a table by the entrance, a white man was sitting.
He had a very clean-shaven bald head, a burly figure, broad shoulders, and muscles that strained his canvas jacket. His facial features looked very fierce.
Put it this way, it was the kind of face that wouldn’t seem out of place if a police officer decided to check his ID on the street.
What surprised the two NYPD officers even more was that this was a predominantly Black neighborhood, and in a Black-owned restaurant, a lone white man sat—and he appeared to be expensively dressed.
Isn’t he afraid of being robbed?
And... who eats barbecue ribs at eight in the morning?
***
"You’re causing trouble, Vanel," the Black owner of the barbecue joint sighed helplessly, speaking discontentedly from behind the counter.
Vanel cracked a smile, averted his gaze from the police car across the street, and said cheerfully to the Black owner, "Old friend, relax. I’m not here to cause you trouble; I just need a little help."
"But you’ve already brought trouble." The Black owner looked old and frail, but an occasional glint in his eyes betrayed a hint of cunning and ferocity.
Vanel stared at the man, then said coldly, "If I rember correctly, you owe your life."
"...Alright." The Black owner exhaled. "What do you want?"
"I heard Nolan has been doing well in New York recently."
"..."
The Black owner fell silent.
"I just need his contact information; a phone number will do." Vanel grinned. "A phone number—it won’t talk by itself. It certainly won’t tell Nolan who gave it to ."
"I’ve retired," the Black owner frowned.
"But you were once part of the company. And as a Level B field agent, I rember the retirent benefits are quite good. I also know you still have many old friends in the company."
"You have many old friends too," the Black owner said coldly.
"That’s why I ca to you. See? I consider you an old friend."
The Black owner pursed his lips and finally sighed. "Alright, I don’t have Nolan’s number right now. I’ll have to ask around."
Vanel quickly recited a mobile number. "This is my number in New York. When you get the information, send it to ."
"I’ll get it done as quickly as possible—but I hope this is the last ti we et."
"Don’t worry." Vanel had already stood up. "I promise I won’t trouble you again."
"Those two cops are about to co over. You’d better leave quickly," the Black owner frowned.
"Speaking of which, hiding in this little shop doing business, don’t you feel stifled?" Vanel smirked. "I bet you still have to pay protection money to those N-words every week. Facing a bunch of bugs you could squash with two fingers, having them co to extort you weekly, and you still have to swallow your pride—is that kind of life really comfortable?"
"N-words? Are you fucking forgetting you’re talking to a Black man right now?"
"Are you fucking forgetting that I paid for your plastic surgery and skin grafts?" Vanel shot back unapologetically.
"...Get lost." The Black owner rolled his eyes.
Vanel laughed heartily, got up, and left. As he walked out the door, he looked back, still laughing, and taunted, "I still prefer how you looked with white skin, old friend. You look utterly ridiculous now."
***
Whistling, Vanel walked out of the barbecue joint, even waving deliberately at the police car across the street.
This gesture instantly soured the expressions of the two NYPD officers.
Then, whistling leisurely, the man crossed the street and finally made his way to the side of the police car.
The two officers imdiately went on high alert and rolled down the car window.
"Officers, why are you staring at ? I’m a law-abiding citizen."
"Law-abiding?" The officer in the driver’s seat sneered. "Here in Brooklyn, claiming to be law-abiding—you’re quite the codian."
Vanel just shrugged.
His dismissive attitude seed to infuriate them, and both officers quickly got out of the car.
The one from the passenger seat stood on the other side of the car, his hand resting on the butt of his holstered gun.
The officer from the driver’s seat got out and stood in front of Vanel, then frowned and took two steps back. It was only when he stood on the ground that he realized Vanel was at least a head taller than him; the sense of pressure was quite strong.
"Show your ID."
"Who the hell carries that thing around?" Vanel laughed.
The officer said coldly, "Then state your social security number! And raise your hands where I can see them."
"Are you mistaken? I’m white. Did you misjudge my skin color?" Vanel maintained his grin. "Just because I ca out of a Black person’s shop? So you suspect I’m a criminal?"
"Hands! I want to see your hands!" the officer shouted sternly, his hand already on his gun.
Vanel looked up at the sky. The weather wasn’t great today—overcast, no sun visible.
"It might rain later this morning," Vanel muttered.
"What did you say?"
Vanel stared into the white officer’s eyes. "I said, you’re a fucking idiot!"
Before the words had even left his mouth, the white officer saw a fist materialize before his eyes, and then his body flew into the air.
As the officer was launched, Vanel grabbed the belt around his waist and swiftly drew the handgun from his holster.
The officer on the other side of the car was visibly slow to react—probably from too many doughnuts; his excess weight hindered his draw, his underarm fat montarily obstructing it.
CLICK!
Hearing the safety disengage and seeing the barrel pointed at him, the overweight officer wisely froze.
"It’s just a job, no need to die for it, right?" Vanel said with a smile, then walked over, not even glancing at the white officer he had floored with a single punch.
He knew the force of his blow; that officer would be unconscious for at least ten minutes.
"Do you... do you know what you’re doing?" the overweight officer stamred.
"I do. Assaulting an officer, snatching a police weapon." Vanel grinned, then walked over, disard the man, and punched him hard in the face. "Taste the iron fist of justice from Soviet X, you capitalist scum."
Watching the overweight officer collapse without a grunt, Vanel sneered, "Eat less sugar in the future; it’s bad for your health."
He sauntered over, started the police car, and then drove away slowly.
One hand on the steering wheel, cold wind blowing in through the open window, Vanel casually picked up the police car’s radio.
"Alert... OFFICER DOWN, address XXX Street... ard..."
He repeated it twice, completely ignoring the dispatcher’s shocked and repeated calls, then smashed the radio console with a punch.
After fiddling with the car stereo for a while, changing several songs, Vanel couldn’t help but curse, "Crap!"
***
A few minutes later, Vanel felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at it; it was a text ssage.
The content was just a phone number. He read it once and morized it.
Vanel chuckled and carelessly tossed his phone out of the car window, shattering it. Then he sped away in the police car.
Two minutes later, the wail of distant sirens reached him.
Smiling, Vanel parked the car on the side of the road, got out, and walked to a nearby phone booth.
He fished out so coins from his pocket, inserted them, and dialed the number.
BEEP BEEP... BEEP BEEP... BEEP BEEP...
Around him, at the intersection, two police cars had already sped over. The sa was happening at the other end of the street, with more sirens approaching in the distance...
***
Glancing at the caller ID on his phone, Nolan saw an unfamiliar number, but he could tell it was from the New York area.
After a brief hesitation, Nolan answered. Not many people knew this mobile number; they were mostly senior executives within the company.
"Who is this?" Nolan asked coldly.
"Oh, just hearing your voice is infuriating!" A voice Nolan knew all too well imdiately ca through on the phone, causing his expression to change instantly.
"You... you?! Vanel??!"
"Of course, it’s , Officer Nolan!" Vanel said coldly. "Surprised? Of course, you are. You thought I was dead, right? Dead in Antarctica—shot by your own hand, weren’t you?"
"..."
"Enough with the nonsense. Co find ." Vanel laughed. "I’m sure you’ll co. I have a lot to say to you, Officer Nolan."
Nolan gripped the phone tightly, his breathing rapid. "I... how do I find you? Where should we et?"
"Listen for yourself!" Vanel ordered coldly.
Nolan heard a lot of background noise; the man was clearly outdoors.
Then, he heard a burst of shouting.
"NYPD!!! GET ON THE GROUND!!"
"SHOW YOUR HANDS!!!"
"NO SUDDEN MOVENTS!!"
"FUCK!!"
Then Vanel’s voice ca through, laughing. "Heard that clearly enough? With your current status and position, it won’t be hard to find out. So... co find ."
BEEP. BEEP. The call disconnected.
***
Vanel, grinning from ear to ear, raised his hands high and stood still. He allowed the rushing NYPD officers to tackle him to the ground and handcuff him.
After they had frisked him from head to toe to ensure he wasn’t carrying any weapons, they hauled him up and pushed him into a police car.
Inside the car, the NYPD officers, angered by the assault on their colleague, landed a few rough blows on Vanel.
Vanel simply didn’t utter a sound. For an Ability User of the Body Technique Departnt like him, these blows were less than a tickle.
He was taken to an unknown precinct and shoved into a holding cell. Twenty minutes later, Vanel, still silent, was pulled into an interrogation room.
Because it was an assault on police, and since these NYPD officers were no saints themselves, Vanel was roughed up again in the interrogation room.
But still, he didn’t care one bit.
After he was thrown back into the holding cell, he was placed in solitary confinent—probably because assaulting an officer, stealing a police firearm, and hijacking a police vehicle were considered severe cris.
However, forty minutes later...
When the holding cell door opened, Vanel saw two n in fine suits standing behind the NYPD officers outside, and he smiled.
This ti, his smile was genuinely pleased.
"Long ti no see, Officer Nolan."
***
After Vanel was moved from the holding cell to the interrogation room, the door closed, leaving only him and Nolan in the room.
"It looks like you’ve really made it big," Vanel said coldly. "To find here through the New York police in such a short ti. So, how is it working for Octopus Monster after deserting Noah’s Ark? Seems like it earned you quite a lofty position."
Nolan’s expression was icy as he stared at Vanel.
Finally, he slowly began to speak.
"Why, Vanel... why aren’t you dead? I was certain you were dead. My marksmanship couldn’t possibly be that bad. At such close range, aiming for vital points, there’s no way you could have survived."
Vanel just smiled and said nothing.
"So why are you looking for ? And in this manner?" Nolan said coldly. "Assaulting police in the street, seizing police weapons, hijacking a police car... What are you doing all this for? Ah... I get it now!"
Nolan shook his head with a laugh. "You’re trying to protect yourself. You’re afraid that if you ca directly to , I’d kill you. So you deliberately commit a serious cri first, then get yourself into a police station, thinking it will offer you protection."
"Of course," Vanel said, curling his lip. "There are probably fifty cops in this station with firearms. When I ca in, I also saw at least two SWAT teams on standby. There’s nowhere safer in New York than here. Of course, for Octopus Monster, breaching this place wouldn’t be a problem... but that would cause too much of a commotion, and you wouldn’t be able to explain it away."
Nolan looked at Vanel, then suddenly shook his head. "No... You just want to think that. In reality, even if you’re in a police station, and I couldn’t possibly rally forces to attack it directly... I always have other ways. You just want to believe that this was your plan, that you’re using the police station as a protective asure. You’re trying to deceive , Vanel."
As Nolan spoke, he lightly tapped his fingers twice on the table and said with a grin, "Your aim is to make complacent. You think by using this thod, I’ll assu, ’Oh, that fool Vanel could only think of such a simple trick,’ allowing to confidently show up to et you... You actually just wanted to lure out for a eting, didn’t you? You just wanted to draw out, right?"
Vanel’s eyebrows shot up.
Then, suddenly, the door to the interrogation room burst open!
Outside, a man and a woman strode in confidently.
Seeing the two people who entered, Nolan’s expression shifted, and in an ’I knew it’ tone, he said, "Oh, let’s see who it is. Wizard, and the esteed Diamond Lady, Lillian. Both of you top-tier Controllers gracing New York with your presence, and working with this guy, just to lure out?"
He wanted to continue, but Diamond Lillian had already flashed in front of Nolan, grabbed his neck, and lifted him clean off the ground.
Under the hand of this top-tier Controller, Nolan seed utterly incapable of resistance—he didn’t even show any intention of resisting.
"Of course, you can kill here. But you certainly didn’t co just for that," Nolan’s face turned red as he struggled to speak while in Lillian’s grip. "Wizard! Think about it! Even though I knew this was a trap to lure out, I still ca!"
The Wizard sighed and gave Lillian a look.
Lillian frowned but nevertheless set Nolan back down.
Nolan scrambled back to the table, gasping for breath.
"A top-tier Spiritual expert, you can stroll into the police station, walk right in here... You can scramble the consciousness of everyone in this station; I’m not at all surprised you can do that," Nolan looked at the Wizard. "But why ? I don’t think my life is important enough to warrant two Controllers teaming up to kill . I don’t have that kind of power."
"Antarctica. We want to know the truth about Antarctica," the Wizard said coldly. "You led the operation in Antarctica, and then... we encountered unbelievable things there... and afterward, we encountered even more unbelievable things! I think you must know sothing!"
Before Nolan could answer, the Wizard continued icily, "You can choose to resist. You can choose not to answer. You can even choose to lie... But you know very well, I am a ntalist! I can invade your Consciousness Space inch by inch, shatter your Consciousness Space bit by bit, search your Consciousness Space piece by piece! After doing all this, I can still get all the answers I want—and your Consciousness Space will crumble. You will die!"
The Wizard’s eyes began to turn blood red. "You know very well I won’t hesitate to do it... Mr. Nolan, my son died in Antarctica. He died during that operation."
Nolan took a deep breath.
He adjusted his posture, trying to relax his entire body as much as possible.
Then, a very serious expression appeared on his face, and he began to speak slowly, his tone more earnest than ever before.
"I can cooperate with you. I am willing to answer all your questions... I even have more to suggest! But there’s one condition... Vanel, you must tell one thing!"
Nolan stared at Vanel. "How is it that you didn’t die!!!"
Vanel frowned.
"No, let rephrase," Nolan shook his head, then said slowly, "Is it... that you encountered an extrely powerful entity, one who used a power we cannot understand or replicate, to resurrect you? Answer ... Vanel! Is it!!"
Vanel hesitated for a mont. "...Why do you ask?"
"I know the answer," Nolan suddenly exhaled, a delighted expression unexpectedly appearing on his face.
Then, he looked at Vanel, then at the Wizard, and then at Lillian.
"Because... behind , above my head, there’s also an entity so powerful it’s irresistible! ...No! That’s not right!! To be precise, above all of our heads, there has always been such a group of powerful beings!"
Vanel raised an eyebrow. "...Octopus Monster?"
"It’s Kamisou Ichiro!" Nolan directly revealed a piece of shocking news. "He’s very strong, extrely strong. I guarantee his strength surpasses any one of you... perhaps even all of you combined!"
The Wizard’s expression turned grave.
"Let be blunt," Nolan suddenly yanked open his shirt collar, his eyes filled with fury and madness. "I’ve had enough! So the minute Vanel called , I began to suspect this.
"If he didn’t die, there must be a terrifyingly powerful entity that revived him! That powerful entity, I have a rough idea which group it is. And you... The reason I was willing to co, even though I knew this was a trap to lure out, is because..."
He clenched his teeth hard, his eyes bloodshot. "I’m damn sick of those inhuman bastards, perched high above, riding on the heads of us human Ability Users! I’ve had enough! I don’t want to tolerate it for another day!!"
The Wizard pondered for a mont. "These beings you speak of..."
"They call themselves Seeds," Vanel said fiercely. "So, my willingness to et you was to see what you know, to see if there’s any chance... we could cooperate!"
"Cooperate on what?" Lillian asked.
"Together, to kill these Seeds!"
***
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