American comics: I am full of martial virtues and I love to be kind to others.

“Good idea,” Emily agreed. “I’ll prepare the necessary identification documents. The dinner starts at eight o’clock, and we’ll meet at the manor gate at seven-thirty.”

“Emily,” Lynn said seriously, “this operation could be dangerous. If you are unwilling…”

“Don’t be silly, Lynn,” Emily interrupted him. “We’re partners, aren’t we? And as a prosecutor, it’s my duty to uncover crime.”

After hanging up the phone, Lynn began to formulate a detailed action plan.

“Sarah and James, you two are in charge of perimeter surveillance,” Lynn instructed. “Set up observation points around the manor, but keep them at a safe distance.”

“What about the support plan?” Sarah asked.

“The SWAT team will be on standby nearby, but not too close,” Lynn replied. “If Caravaggio is indeed connected to those supernatural beings, we can’t risk exposing too many people.”

“What about the communication equipment?” James asked.

“I’ll bring a miniature camera and recording equipment, but I’ll make sure it’s discreet,” Lynn said. “Security checks in those situations can be very strict.”

At four o'clock in the afternoon, Lynn began preparing his disguise. He changed into an expensive dark suit, put on a Rolex watch, and looked like a successful businessman. The technical department prepared a set of special equipment for him: a miniature camera hidden in the watch, a recording device hidden in the shirt button, and an emergency call button disguised as a mobile phone.

“Remember, our primary objective is to confirm Martin Webber’s presence at the manor and gather more information about Project Vulcan,” Lynn concluded, reaffirming the mission objectives. “Do not risk an arrest unless it is absolutely safe.”

At 7:15 p.m., Lynn arrived near Caravaggio's estate in a borrowed luxury car. Emily was already waiting at the agreed location, dressed in an elegant black evening gown that perfectly met the dress code for high society gatherings.

“You look fantastic,” Emily complimented, “just like a successful businesswoman.”

“You too,” Lynn replied. “Thank you for your help, Emily.”

“Don’t be so polite,” Emily smiled. “Now tell me, what exactly are we looking for?”

Lynn briefly explained Martin Webber's situation to her, but made no mention of mutants. He felt it was best not to let more people know these supernatural details before there was solid evidence.

"So Weber is a fugitive, possibly connected to human experimentation?" Emily concluded.

“Yes, and we have reason to believe he will be at the manor tonight,” Lynn confirmed.

They drove toward the manor gates. Even at night, the grandeur of Caravaggio's manor was impressive. Tall stone columns flanked the gates, topped with exquisite sculptures. Behind the gates was a straight private driveway lined with neatly trimmed trees, leading to a three-story manor building, all its windows illuminated with warm light.

“Invitation,” the security guard at the entrance said politely.

Emily handed over the invitation, which the security guard carefully checked before nodding and letting them through. Their vehicle was led to a huge circular driveway already filled with all sorts of luxury cars: Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Rolls-Royces, and more.

“The guests seem to be of very high social standing,” Emily observed.

“Indeed,” Lynn replied, glancing around for any suspicious signs.

The manor's main hall was extremely luxurious, with a three-story-high ceiling and a huge crystal chandelier hanging from it. The marble floors gleamed, and the walls were adorned with some priceless works of art. About fifty guests had already gathered in the hall, all dressed in formal evening attire, holding champagne, and engaging in relaxed social conversation.

“Mr. Wilson, Ms. Hart, welcome to my estate,” a deep voice said.

Lynn turned and saw Victor Caravaggio himself. He was a man of about sixty, tall, wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo, with gray hair that was meticulously combed. His eyes were sharp, giving the impression that he could see right through people.

“Mr. Caravaggio, it is an honor to be invited to your charity dinner,” Emily replied gracefully.

“Thank you for your invitation,” Lynn said politely. “I am very interested in your philanthropic work.”

“Oh? Is Mr. Wilson in the security industry?” Caravaggio asked, clearly already aware of Lynn’s disguised identity.

“Yes, private security services,” Lynn replied, “primarily providing protection for high-end clients.”

“A very interesting industry,” Caravaggio said, a barely perceptible glint in his eyes. “Perhaps we can talk about it later. Now, please enjoy the dinner.”

After Caravaggio left, Emily whispered to Lynn, "He looked suspicious; that look in his eyes made me uncomfortable."

“I feel the same way,” Lynn replied. “Now we need to find Weber without arousing suspicion.”

They began to move slowly through the hall, ostensibly socializing, but actually observing each guest. Lynn's gaze carefully swept over every face, searching for Martin Weber.

About half an hour later, Lynn spotted his target on the second-floor balcony. Weber was talking to several people; he was clearly still injured in the leg and was walking with a slight limp. More importantly, Lynn recognized one of the people he was talking to.

“Sarah, this is Lynn,” he whispered through a miniature communication device, “Target confirmed. Weber is inside the manor, on the second-floor balcony.”

"Roger that," Sarah's voice came through. "Need backup?"

“Not needed for now, let’s continue to observe,” Lynn replied.

“I found the restroom,” Emily said, giving Lynn a chance to act on her own.

Lynn slowly moved up to the second floor, pretending to admire the artwork on the wall. He needed to get a closer look at Weber, perhaps to overhear some of their conversation.

The second floor was more private, with several small meeting rooms and a library. Weber's balcony led to one of the meeting rooms, the door ajar. Lin Lian pretended to be interested in a painting nearby, but was actually eavesdropping on the conversation inside.

"The plan is going well," Weber said. "Although there were some unexpected events yesterday, we have readjusted our strategy."

"The test subject with fire abilities has been captured," another voice said. "Could this expose our project?"

“No,” Weber replied, “He has limited knowledge of the project’s core information. And we have more backup plans.”

Lynn held his breath and listened carefully to these key conversations.

"When will the next phase begin?" the third voice asked.

“Tomorrow night,” Weber said, “we will operate simultaneously in three locations. Even if one is discovered, the others will still succeed.”

Are the newly recruited children ready?

“We’re fully prepared,” Weber confirmed. “They’ve been thoroughly threatened and won’t dare disobey. And this time we have much better protection.”

Just then, Lynn heard footsteps behind him. He quickly turned around and saw a burly man in a black suit approaching.

"Sir, what are you doing here?" the man asked, his tone polite but clearly tinged with suspicion.

“I’m admiring these works of art,” Lynn replied calmly. “Mr. Caravaggio’s collection is truly impressive.” “The guests should enjoy dinner downstairs,” the man said. “The second floor is a private area.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Lynn said, feigning apology. “I’ll be right down.”

But just as Lynn was about to leave, the door to the reception room suddenly opened wide, and Weber walked out. When he saw Lynn, his face immediately turned pale.

"It's you!" Webber exclaimed. "The FBI agent!"

The situation instantly became dangerous. The bodyguard in black immediately drew his weapon and pointed it at Lynn.

"Don't move!" the bodyguard shouted.

Lynn realized his identity had been exposed and he had to act quickly. He pretended to raise his hands in surrender, but was actually preparing to fight back.

“Calm down,” Lynn said. “There are many guests here; you don’t want to cause a disturbance, do you?”

Weber gritted his teeth and said, "Take him to the basement. We need to find out how much information the FBI knows."

“I won’t go with you obediently,” Lynn warned.

At this crucial moment, a commotion arose downstairs. It seemed that some guests had noticed something unusual.

"What happened?" Weber asked.

A man came running up from downstairs, panting, and reported, "Boss, the FBI has surrounded the estate! They're demanding everyone come out for inspection!"

Lynn secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Clearly, Sarah and James had realized the danger and called for backup in advance.

“Damn it!” Webber cursed. “It must be one of this agent’s accomplices!”

"What do we do now?" the bodyguard asked.

“Initiate emergency evacuation procedures,” Webber ordered. “Leave through the secret passage. As for this agent…”

He glared at Lynn fiercely. "Kill him!"

The bodyguard raised his gun, ready to fire. But Lynn was prepared; he quickly rolled to the side, taking cover around the corner of the corridor. The bullet struck the wall, leaving a bullet hole.

“Sarah! Emergency!” Lynn shouted through the communication device, “I’m on the second floor, under attack!”

More shouts and footsteps came from downstairs; clearly, the guests were evacuating in disarray. Lynn knew he had to stop Webber from escaping; this might be his only chance to catch him.

He peeked around the corner and saw Webber moving towards a door at the end of the corridor, possibly the secret passage he'd mentioned. The bodyguards were still chasing Lynn, firing continuously.

Lynn drew his sidearm and fired at the bodyguard. His first shot struck the bodyguard in the shoulder, causing him to drop his weapon. But just then, two more armed men rushed out of the meeting room.

"Three against one, this is bad," Lynn thought.

He needs backup, and he needs it fast. The FBI team downstairs is handling the evacuation of guests and may take a few minutes to reach the second floor.

Suddenly, Lynn heard familiar footsteps coming from the stairs. Emily appeared at the other end of the corridor, holding a pistol in her hand.

“Lynn! Get down!” she shouted.

Lynn immediately dropped to the ground, and Emily fired, hitting one of the armed men. But another immediately opened fire on her, and Emily quickly took cover behind the stairs.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Lynn rushed toward Webber. But Webber had already reached the door and was using some kind of special keycard to open it.

"Halt!" Lynn shouted, raising his gun to aim.

Webber turned around, a smug smile on his face. "Too late, Agent. You'll never stop our plans."

The door opened, and Webber rushed inside. Lynn followed closely behind, but as he rushed in, he found himself on a downward staircase leading to the basement. Webber had already disappeared into the darkness.

"Emily, are you alright?" Lynn asked through the communication device.

“I’m fine,” Emily’s voice came through. “The armed men have been subdued, and the FBI team is coming upstairs.”

“Weber escaped into the underground passage,” Lynn reported. “I’m going to track him down.”

“Be careful,” Emily said worriedly.

Lynn cautiously began descending the stairs. The basement was dark, with only faint emergency lighting. It was clearly an elaborate escape route, likely leading to some location outside the manor.

There were several rooms on either side of the corridor, and Lynn noticed that the door to one of them was open. He cautiously approached and discovered it was a laboratory!

The room contained various scientific instruments, and the walls were covered with charts that looked like data from human experiments. A large metal box stood in the center of the room, bearing the logo of the "Vulcan Project."

“So this is where they conduct their experiments,” Lynn thought.

He used a miniature camera on his watch to record every detail of the laboratory, and this evidence was crucial to prosecuting the entire criminal syndicate.

But just as he was focused on gathering evidence, he heard footsteps behind him. Lynn turned around quickly and saw a familiar figure appear in the doorway—Caravaggio himself.

“Agent Wilson, or should I call you Inspector Hall?” Caravaggio sneered. “Do you really think your disguise can fool me?”

“Caravaggio, you’re under arrest,” Lynn said, brandishing his weapon, “for aiding and abetting a fugitive and conducting illegal human experiments.”

“Arrested?” Caravaggio laughed. “Do you think you can leave here alive?”

As he spoke, he pressed a button on the wall. Suddenly, an alarm sounded in the room, and at the same time, several hidden doors opened, and four people in black uniforms rushed out.

But these people were different from ordinary bodyguards. Lynn immediately sensed the unusual change in the air—the crackling of electricity, the slight vibration of metal objects, and an indescribable sense of oppression.

“Let me introduce my special security team,” Caravaggio said proudly. “They are all successful products of Project Vulcan.”

Lynn gripped his sidearm tightly, quickly assessing the threat before him. Four men in black uniforms slowly entered the laboratory, each emanating an unusual aura. Blue arcs of electricity crackled between the first man's hands; the metal objects around the second man began to vibrate slightly; the third man's figure seemed somewhat blurry; and the fourth man appeared the most normal, but his muscles were noticeably more developed than average. (End of Chapter)