American comic: From Beijing with Love, starting with a mutant.

What kind of situation is this?

There wasn't even a hint of a practical assessment, yet the interns have already abandoned their responsibilities and run away?

"Boss, the bill!"

He slammed the banknotes on the table, picked up the wrapped Overlord Gun and suitcase from the wall, and left through the door.

It was still early, and his current black suit was too conspicuous; he needed to change his clothes before getting things done tonight.

After circling half of Chinatown, Stephen Chow slipped into an old shop with a faded sign that read "Costume Rental and Sale".

A fat boss was lying behind the counter, his face covered by a newspaper.

"Boss, wake up! Pick me the most stylish outfit, one with a strong traditional cultural background!"

The portly boss tore off the newspaper and struggled to open his eyes: "Making a movie?"

"Performing official duties."

"What official business requires wearing a theatrical costume?"

"Promoting traditional culture overseas, and incidentally advising a few capitalists to correct their business philosophies."

"That doesn't sound like a proper job."

A few banknotes were slapped onto the counter, and the fat shopkeeper sat up straight, stepped onto a stool, and pulled down a gold-embroidered dragon robe from the top of the coat rack.

"This is impressive! It's the emperor's style. If you wear it out tonight, everyone on the street will turn their heads to look at you."

Zhou Xing twisted his collar and turned it over; two rows of plastic beads were still hanging from his cuffs, exuding a cheap and idiotic festive feel.

"That's too common. I need to be low-key yet sharp, with a scholarly air mixed with a hint of murderous intent, so that people can recognize me as a peerless master even from half a street away."

The fat boss scoffed, bent down and rummaged through the warehouse for a long time before finally pulling out a moon-white robe, and then took out a scholar's hat from the bottom of the cabinet.

Stephen Chow scrutinized him for a while, then nodded in satisfaction.

A few minutes later, the curtain in the locker room was flung open.

A moon-white robe hung down to the top of his boots, a square hat was neatly placed on his head, a red-tasseled Overlord Spear was held in his hand, and a cold iron pig-slaughtering knife was tucked horizontally into his belt.

The hilt of the knife pushed up his clothes, adding a touch of the ferocity of a street butcher to his otherwise refined and scholarly demeanor.

The portly boss stared at him for a full half minute, then gave him a thumbs up: "Handsome young man, your outfit makes you look like Tang Bohu, the foremost of the Four Great Talents of Jiangnan, reincarnated!"

"You have good taste!"

Old Zhou flicked his wide sleeves, twirled halfway in front of the mirror, and said, "Others laugh at my madness, but I laugh at their ignorance. How much?"

Two hundred dollars.

"Fifty."

"One hundred and eighty."

"Fifty."

"One hundred and fifty, no less."

"One hundred, plus a free pair of socks!"

"make a deal!"

Oops!

The price was still too high!

But the words had already been spoken, and to go back on them would be beneath the dignity of a peerless master. So Old Zhou could only reluctantly add ten dollars and have the shopkeeper issue a five-hundred-dollar invoice.

The item name on the invoice must be clearly written; for example, cultural promotional props, not a single word can be omitted.

After leaving the costume store, Zhou Xing went into a nearby shopping mall.

His outfit attracted a lot of attention, and several blonde girls raised their phones and whispered among themselves towards Lao Zhou.

With the camera right in front of him, Lao Zhou naturally couldn't be impolite. He raised his hand to adjust the brim of his hat and then gave the girls a flirtatious wink.

Arriving at the automatic locker, he pushed the suitcase containing all his belongings into it, closed the door, and pulled the handle twice to make sure the latch was engaged before stepping into the Los Angeles night.

"The spring breeze is vexing, why is my heart vexed by the spring breeze...?"

The phone rang, and when Lao Zhou took it out, the screen lit up with the words "Ling Ling Wu".

Ok?

Why is this guy contacting me?

Stephen Chow pressed the answer button and held the phone to his ear: "Hey! Baldy, what do you want? Making an international call at this hour, you're paying for the call!"

"Butcher! Stop trying to fool me with money! I've made progress on the mayfly case!"

Stephen Chow stopped and walked to the wall, lowering his voice: "Tell me the details."

"I traced the accelerant, the monitoring failure points, and the remaining tissue at the scene. Someone sneaked into China and headed straight for the seventh windbreak forest area on the northern edge of the Tarim Basin. As soon as that bear saw the mayfly appear, it injected itself with a special drug and, bang, set itself on fire on the spot."

Stephen Chow didn't respond.

Ling Lingwu continued, "This was meticulously planned. The route was chosen precisely, the timing was perfect, and even the wind direction was taken into account."

"Unfortunately, our monitoring system is still being upgraded. We haven't figured out where he went or who he met yet."

"At this point, we can only confirm that he bypassed the normal entry records, and there must be someone helping him behind the scenes."

"Has your identity been verified?"

"It's been confirmed. Wenxi extracted gene fragments from the remaining tissue at the scene and used the data you returned as an index for comparison."

"This bastard came from the Silver Peak Consortium's underground laboratory, experiment number SBT09, a one-time self-destruct experimental subject manufactured by the Silver Peak Consortium's West Coast laboratory!"

"To put it bluntly, they created a living source of fire!"

Stephen Chow took the cigarette case out and then put it back.

These vermin have actually extended their reach into the heart of China!

"Okay, I understand."

"Hey butcher, I'm telling you something serious, don't be stubborn!"

"Since you're in America, if you make any big fuss, the diplomatic corps, the police, and the bureau will all have to clean up the mess! Control the impact if you can, understand?"

"The signal is too weak, I'm hanging up."

Back at the headquarters of Bureau 749 in Beijing, the bald guy held up his phone, which was now just a dead ringer, spun around twice, patted his bald head, and cursed, "Damn it!"

The bald man turned around, pointed at his phone, and said, "Chief, that kid hung up! I bet he's going to raid Silver Peak's hideout tonight!"

Director Wang chuckled and said, "It's normal for young people to be hot-tempered. I didn't give any orders, did I? This is ultimately a matter of personal grudges."

The bald man pondered for a couple of seconds before suddenly realizing what was going on, and immediately gave a thumbs up: "Brilliant! The leader is truly brilliant! The documents are spotless, and the matters are crystal clear—absolutely top-notch!"

On a street in Los Angeles, Stephen Chow looks towards the industrial area.

His earliest entanglement with the Silver Peak Consortium was actually so absurd that it didn't seem like a legitimate feud.

Edith veered off course, sending him to the wrong place.

Later, he set his sights on the King of Cards, but the bastard caused trouble at the casino, causing Yin Feng to lose face and several of his henchmen to be killed one after another.

In his search for new mutants, he killed Avalanche and destroyed Silver Peak's secret human experimentation site.

The Silver Peak Consortium's retaliation came too quickly, and several scapegoats were also pinned on him and the King of Cards, making the debt snowball.

but!

It's one thing to pin the blame on him, but it's quite another to reach into China and burn down the people of Bureau 749!

Stephen Chow can outwit and outmaneuver Anton over expense reports.

You can haggle with the costume shop owner for ages over just a few dollars.

But if an employee becomes disabled due to work-related reasons, this debt cannot be settled through procedures!

The mayfly is already withered; he no longer cares to distinguish right from wrong.

But harming employees of Bureau 749 is a major taboo!

If this grudge is not avenged, how can we command respect in the future?

I'm working overtime tonight.

Let's start with Silver Peak.