Villain? No, I'll catch up with the protagonist after passing the civil service exam.

The bright red steel cylinder rolled twice on the cement ground.

A muffled "clang" was heard.

A piece of red paint was chipped off the bottle, and it came to a steady stop at the feet of the exoskeleton armor that was already covered with a thick layer of white frost.

The temperature inside the vault dropped to freezing.

The white, dry ice mist swirled around my ankles. The cold air, inhaled into my lungs, made my throat feel tight, like swallowing shards of glass.

"Go! Take control of the scene!"

Outside in the corridor, Zhao Tiezhu shouted in his hoarse voice.

A dozen or so special police officers, carrying riot shields and submachine guns, surged in in tactical formation.

The military boots crunched loudly on the broken bricks and ice shards scattered on the ground.

Zhao Tiezhu was at the very front.

He stared wide-eyed, expecting a fierce battle to the death. But when he looked up, he was stunned.

That two-meter-tall, intimidating-looking mechanical armor is now standing there like a giant ice cream cone.

The hydraulic hoses at the joint were all frozen and cracked. Yellowish-brown engine oil was seeping out, and it immediately froze into ice crystals as soon as it came out.

"That's it? That's it?"

Zhao Tiezhu swallowed hard and pressed the glass of water he was holding down a little.

He turned his head and glanced at Lu Jingyan standing next to him.

Lu Jingyan didn't speak. He lowered his eyes, looking at the back of his left hand.

When I broke through the window, the back of my hand was cut by the blast-proof glass, leaving a 1-inch-long gash.

The bleeding has stopped. Because of the residual liquid nitrogen gas, a thin layer of dark red frost has formed on the wound.

It hurts quite a bit. A sharp, needle-like pain shot up my forehead along my nerves.

This is the most honest physiological feedback from a mortal body.

Lu Jingyan raised his right hand and casually patted the back of his hand twice with his fingertips.

The white frost fell to the ground in a soft rustling sound. He hadn't even caught his breath, and just shook his wrist.

"What are you spacing out for?"

He lifted his eyelids, glanced at Zhao Tiezhu, and said, "Get the man out here."

"Alright! Okay!"

Zhao Tiezhu snapped out of his daze and strode over to the frozen mech.

He slung the gun over his shoulder and pulled a tungsten steel window breaker from his tactical belt.

He swung his arm and slammed it down hard on the transparent mask in the mecha's cockpit, which was already frozen and brittle.

"Bang! Crack!"

The first hammer blow dented the mask, leaving a white mark. The second blow shattered the entire piece of polymer glass into a spiderweb pattern.

Zhao Tiezhu reached inside with his large hand, which was wearing cut-resistant gloves.

They grabbed Qiu Kun by the back of his collar and, like pulling a radish, forcibly dragged him out of the cockpit.

"thump."

Qiu Kun slammed onto the cement ground like a lump of mud.

He was freezing.

Just now inside the mech, the low temperature of liquid nitrogen penetrated the protective layer directly. His once quite elegant black shirt is now as stiff as a piece of iron.

His lips were bluish. Snot was flowing uncontrollably from his nose, forming two glistening little icicles on his philtrum.

The upper and lower rows of teeth clicked together, making a crisp, clattering sound.

"No...it's impossible..."

Qiu Kun curled up on the ground, shivering all over. His eyes were fixed on the wrecked mecha.

"Miniature, miniature reactor... how could it have stopped..."

He slurred his words, and his voice was completely broken.

Two SWAT officers walked over and grabbed his shoulders, one on each side.

Her knee pressed against his lower back. She pulled his arms back.

"Click."

The silver police handcuffs gripped his wrists tightly. The cold metal pressed against his skin, making him shiver again.

On the other side of the vault.

The special police have begun to systematically clean up the battlefield.

Nobody cared whether these mercenaries were using alien technology.

In the law enforcement process of Earth Police, all these fancy gadgets are simply called "stolen goods involved in the case".

A young SWAT officer squatted on the ground.

He picked up an energy-cutting gun that was still emitting a faint blue glow. He looked at the alien characters on the barrel and curled his lip.

"Old Wang, this gun barrel is still quite hot to the touch. Which bag should we put it in?" he asked without looking up.

The veteran detective next to him tore open a large, thick, transparent evidence bag.

"Number six. This is a controlled instrument. Be careful when handling it, don't touch the primer."

The young SWAT officer threw his gun into the bag.

He took out his handheld device and scanned the barcode on the evidence bag.

"drop."

A crisp electronic sound rang out. A yellow adhesive label was ejected and slapped onto the bag opening.

The label reads in neat, square characters: Special Investigation Team of Jinghai City Public Security Bureau, items involved in the case are sealed.

Those alien gadgets that once fetched exorbitant prices on the dark web, making countless gangs envious.

At this moment, they are like water-filled electronic scales confiscated by urban management officers in a vegetable market, lined up neatly and thrown into a black metal box.

There is no oppressive feeling from higher dimensions, nor any world-destroying visual effects.

Everything was rendered mundane by this tedious, rigid, yet airtight policing process.

Qiu Kun was pulled up from the ground.

His legs were still weak, and his toes dragged on the ground, leaving two streaks in the water.

He looked at the mercenaries he had hired at great expense, who were huddled in the corner with their heads in their hands, like plucked quails.

Watching those high-tech weapons, enough to buy half a city, being packed up and taken away like junk.

He was not reconciled.

His ten years of hard work. His black market empire, painstakingly built in the underworld. All gone.

Was it all ruined by a police officer with a fire extinguisher?

"Lu Jingyan!"

Qiu Kun struggled violently. The handcuffs left two bloody marks on his wrists.

The veins on his neck bulged. His eyes were red, and he stared intently at the man standing not far away.

"Don't get cocky! I have backup! You can't stop this technological torrent!"

His voice was hoarse from shouting, revealing a sense of utter despair.

"Sooner or later, they'll come with even more advanced weapons and blast your ridiculous rules to smithereens!"

The SWAT officer holding him tightened his grip.

"Behave yourself! What are you yelling about!" the SWAT officer hissed.

Lu Jingyan remained silent.

He turned around. His leather shoes crunched on the ice shards and broken glass as he walked step by step toward Qiu Kun.

The man's old police uniform was covered in dust.

There were still traces of blood on the back of his hand that hadn't been wiped clean.

But he stood ramrod straight.

There was no ecstatic joy of victory, nor any relief at surviving a catastrophe, in his dark eyes.

Only that kind of unfathomable tranquility comes from seeing through desire and greed.

He looked at Qiu Kun's face, twisted with resentment.

It's like looking at a closed and archived case file.

Zhao Tiezhu and the special police rushed up, smashed open the armored cabin door with window-breaking hammers, and with a "crack," forcibly pulled out Qiu Kun, who was freezing and had a runny nose, and fastened a silver bracelet on his wrist. Lu Jingyan patted the dry ice frost off the back of his hand.

Looking down at Qiu Kun, who was in handcuffs, Lu Jingyan coldly declared, "High technology is just a tool. Here, criminal law is the unshakeable foundation." The black market network was completely destroyed.