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

“You remember what I like,” Lynn said, touched.

“Of course I remember, I’m your sister,” Gwen said smugly, then looked Lynn up and down. “You look different.”

"What's the meaning?"

“I don’t know how to put it, more wild? Or tougher?” Gwen tilted her head in thought. “It just feels different. And you seem to have lost a little weight, but your muscles are more defined.”

“It’s probably because I spent two weeks living in the wild,” Lynn said, picking up a fork and taking a bite of the crème brûlée. The silky sweetness melted in her mouth, a completely different experience from eating barbecue on the snow.

"What did you do there? Can you tell me?" Gwen asked curiously.

“Some of my work with the FBI, I can’t go into too much detail,” Lynn said, “but I can say I learned a lot and experienced some interesting things.”

“Interesting? In Alaska? I thought there was only ice and snow there,” Gwen laughed.

“There were also reindeer, and some very special people,” Lynn said, thinking of Wolverine, the mother animal, and her cubs. “In short, it was a very valuable experience.”

“That’s good,” Gwen said, starting to eat her dessert. “I was worried you’d have a hard time there. After all, the news said the weather was terrible.”

“It’s really bad,” Lynn admitted, “but it’s not so bad as to be unmanageable.”

The two enjoyed their dessert in silence for a while, soft jazz music playing in the café, while bustling streets stretched out outside the window. This peaceful, everyday moment brought Lynn a long-lost sense of relaxation.

“By the way, bro,” Gwen suddenly said, “have you heard? There’s a bomb-monster in New York lately.”

“A bomb-monster?” Lynn put down his fork, his FBI agent instincts immediately kicking in. “I haven’t heard of him. I just got back and haven’t had time to catch up on the latest cases.”

“Oh yeah, you just got back from Alaska,” Gwen said, pulling out her phone and opening a news website. “Look, it’s all over the news.”

Lynn took the phone and quickly browsed the news. The headline read: "Serial bombings shock New York—mysterious bomb maniac has committed five attacks."

The news report detailed five explosions that had occurred in the past ten days. The first occurred at an abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn, with no injuries. The second took place at a construction site in Queens, again with no injuries. The next three occurred in different locations in Manhattan—a parking lot, a small bridge, and a public restroom in a park.

“Strangely,” Gwen said, “none of these explosions caused serious casualties. The worst one only resulted in a few minor injuries.”

“So it doesn’t seem like a terrorist attack,” Lynn analyzed. “If the goal was murder, the killer could have easily chosen a more crowded location or a more dangerous time of day.”

“Yes, that’s what’s being discussed in the news,” Gwen said. “Some people are saying that this bomb-monger might not be trying to kill anyone, but rather to get attention or send some kind of message.”

Lynn continued browsing the news, noticing some details: "The locations of these explosions seem to follow a pattern. Three different areas: Brooklyn, Queens, and Manhattan."

"Did you figure it out?" Gwen asked excitedly. She had been interested in detective work since she was a child, which was one of the reasons she admired her brother.

“It’s not certain yet,” Lynn said. “We need to see the complete case file to determine. But it’s certainly very interesting.”

"Does the police have any leads?"

“The news says the police are investigating with all their might, but haven’t caught any suspects yet,” Lynn said. “The explosive devices were homemade, but the level of craftsmanship was very professional, indicating that the perpetrator had relevant knowledge or training.”

"Could it be a veteran? Or an engineer or something?" Gwen guessed.

“It’s possible,” Lynn said, “but it could also be something he learned online. You can find anything online these days, including how to make explosive devices.”

He handed the phone back to Gwen: "But this case shouldn't fall under our team's jurisdiction. The FBI usually handles cases involving interstate or international routes, or federal facilities. These kinds of city-wide bombings should be handled by the NYPD and counterterrorism departments."

“But you seem very interested,” Gwen observed, a sly glint in her eyes.

“That’s certainly interesting,” Lynn admitted. “The killer’s behavior is very unusual. If it wasn’t about murder, then what was the motive? If it was to attract attention, why choose these specific locations? There might be some kind of logic behind it that we haven’t figured out yet.”

"Will you follow this case?"

“If there’s an opportunity, why not?” Lynn said. “Although it’s not our team’s responsibility, the FBI shares case information. I can look at the files and maybe find some useful clues.”

"Great!" Gwen exclaimed excitedly. "You'll definitely catch that bomb-monster! You're the FBI's best agent!"

“I didn’t say that,” Lynn laughed. “Besides, the FBI has many excellent agents; I’m just one of them.”

“In my heart, you are the best,” Gwen insisted, then added, “Although you are always very humble, I know how excellent you are. Sarah told me about what you did in Alaska this time.”

“Sarah told you?” Lynn frowned.

“Just roughly,” Gwen said quickly, “She said you protected something important and defeated some very dangerous bad guys. Although she didn’t go into details, I could tell you did something amazing.”

Lynn sighed, but didn't blame Sarah. He knew his partner was doing it to put Gwen at ease.

“Some work was done,” Lynn said simply, “but it was all that FBI agents should do.”

“You’re just being too modest,” Gwen said, then glanced at the time. “Oh dear, I have to go. I have an important biochemistry class at 4:30, and the professor is very strict; I can’t be late.”

“Then you should go quickly,” Lynn said. “Thank you for the dessert and for coming all the way to see me.”

“Brother, we’re family, there’s no need to thank me,” Gwen stood up, slung her backpack over her shoulder, “By the way, are you free this weekend? I’d like you to come over for dinner. I’ve learned a few new dishes recently, and I’d like you to try them.”

“If there’s no urgent mission, I’ll definitely go,” Lynn promised. “It’s a deal!” Gwen waved. “Take care, bro. Don’t overwork yourself.”

"You too, don't study too hard," Lynn said with a smile.

Finally, Lynn paid the bill and left the coffee shop. Instead of going straight home, he decided to take a detour to the FBI building. Although Jason had forced him to take three days off, he hadn't said he couldn't go to the office to look at some files.

Moreover, the bomb-monger case that Gwen mentioned did indeed pique his interest.

It was 4:30 PM when Lynn returned to the FBI building. Most of the agents were still busy, but some were preparing to leave. Lynn swiped his card to enter the building and went straight to the records room.

The data clerk was a middle-aged woman with thick glasses named Margaret. She looked at Lynn with some surprise: "Agent Holt? I heard you were on vacation."

“I’m just looking at some files,” Lynn said. “I want to get some information on recent cases. Do you have any files on the New York bombings?”

“That case?” Margaret thought for a moment. “It’s a police case, but the counterterrorism unit does have a backup file. Let me check. Okay, case number…”

She worked on the computer for a while, then said, "The files can be accessed, but the access requirement is at least Level 3 Agent. You're Level 2, so no problem."

"Can I take a look?"

“Of course,” Margaret printed out a summary, “the complete file is in the electronic system; you can log in with your account to view it. This is the basic information about the case.”

Lynn took the papers and quickly glanced through them. The case was being handled by the NYPD's bomb disposal unit and the federal counterterrorism agency; the FBI was currently only providing technical support and had not directly intervened.

“Thank you, Margaret,” Lynn said.

“You’re welcome,” Margaret said, then added, “But Agent Holt, are you sure you want to look at case files during your vacation? You just came back from a dangerous mission; you should be resting.”

“I’m just taking a look,” Lynn said. “I won’t actually get involved in the case.”

Margaret gave him a "I don't believe it" look, but said nothing more. She had known Lynn for many years and knew the young agent's passion for his work.

Lynn returned to his desk, logged into the electronic filing system, and began to examine the bomber case in detail.

Five bombings, spanning ten days and occurring in three boroughs of New York City. Each explosion used a similar device—homemade explosives triggered by a timer—but the explosive power was precisely controlled, seemingly to deliberately avoid causing serious casualties.

Most interestingly, a small note was left at each explosion site. The notes contained a mysterious message printed on them:
First time: "Start" Second time: "Remember" Third time: "History" Fourth time: "No" Fifth time: "Repeat"

“Begin, remember, history, won’t, repeat.” Lynn murmured the words, trying to find the connection between them. “If you read them together, is it ‘begin to remember history won’t repeat’? Or ‘remember history won’t repeat’?”

This looks like some kind of declaration or warning, but its specific meaning is still unclear.

Lynn continued to delve deeper into the files, noting down key information. Although this wasn't a case he was in charge of, his intuition told him that something unusual was behind it.

Moreover, as Gwen said, it is indeed very interesting.

Perhaps in the days to come, he will spend some time paying attention to this case. Not officially involved, but just out of personal interest, to see if he can find any clues.

After all, a good FBI agent should maintain curiosity about any mystery.

Time passed by unnoticed, and when Lynn looked up, there were only a few people left in the office. The sky outside the window had darkened, and the Manhattan skyline was beginning to unfold—countless lights creating a dazzling spectacle of this city that never sleeps.

Lynn saved her notes, shut down her computer, and prepared to go home. Today had been busy enough—returning from Alaska, medical checkups, mission briefings, meeting with Gwen, and working on a new case.

He needs a good rest. He has two more days off tomorrow, which allows him to truly relax, or perhaps continue investigating the bomb-monster case.

The following morning, Lynn woke up in her apartment feeling more comfortable than at any time in the past two weeks. A soft mattress, warm blankets, no biting cold winds or ever-present threats—the comforts of civilized society can sometimes be addictive.

He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the bomb-monger case he'd investigated yesterday. The mysterious messages, the meticulously controlled explosions—all hinted at a specific motive. But what was that motive?
Lynn's phone suddenly rang. It was a message from Sarah: "I heard you went to check case files again after get off work yesterday? Margaret told me. Shouldn't you be resting?"

Lynn smiled and replied, "Just browsing, I haven't officially gotten involved in any cases."

"Just browsing? You?" Sarah's reply was tinged with obvious suspicion. "Never mind, I can't control you anyway. By the way, are you free today? A few colleagues and I are going to a football match, and we were wondering if you wanted to come along."

Lynn thought about it. He did need to relax, and watching a game was a good option—it was entertaining without completely isolating him from society.

"What competition?" he replied.

“New York Red Bulls vs. New England Revolution, 2 p.m., Red Bull Arena,” Sarah said. “Not a crucial game, but it should be pretty exciting. We have a few extra tickets, want to come?”

Lynn considered for a moment. To be honest, he didn't have a particular preference for either team, nor was he a die-hard football fan. But as an FBI agent, this level of compromise was the norm—most of his time was spent on cases, and finding time to watch a football match was a luxury; where was the luxury of choosing which games and teams to watch?
“Okay, I’ll go,” Lynn replied. “Where should we meet?”

"Great! See you at the stadium main entrance at 1:30 PM. A few of us will arrive early."

After hanging up the phone, Lynn got up, washed up, had a quick breakfast, and then began to handle some personal matters. He emailed Jason to confirm that he was recovering well. He also messaged Wolverine—though unsure if Logan would check his phone—to tell him that he was safely back in New York.

The morning passed quickly. Lynn dealt with some backlogged bills, organized the equipment she brought back from Alaska, and even took some time to do some light exercise at the gym downstairs—mainly stretching and cardio to avoid aggravating her rib injury.

Around noon, Lynn changed into casual clothes—a dark blue jacket, jeans, and sneakers. He looked like any ordinary New Yorker, ready to enjoy a relaxing afternoon. The only difference was that he carried a Glock 19 pistol and his FBI badge in a concealed holster inside his jacket. As a federal agent, he was used to carrying these items even on vacation.

The journey from Manhattan to Red Bull Arena in New Jersey involves taking the PATH train, a journey of about forty minutes. Lynn left early and arrived at the stadium at 1:15 PM. (End of Chapter)