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

Los Angeles, in the western suburbs.

A streamlined tactical shuttle appeared out of thin air and landed.

Inside the cabin, Stephen Chow gripped the control stick in the cockpit, cold sweat dripping down his chin.

Damn it!

I'm truly impressed!

This crappy plane's intelligent driver assistance system has an anti-human tendency!

What kind of plane lands nose-first? Like it's digging underground to find oil?!

If he hadn't forcibly shut down the auxiliary system and pulled the control stick, this priceless high-tech equipment would now be nothing more than an abstract painting on the wall.

The slug in the passenger seat wasn't so lucky.

This guy had gone limp and was foaming at the mouth.

"Master Zhou...are we...into the underworld? Why is King Yama's rocking horse so bumpy?"

Stephen Chow unbuckled his seatbelt in annoyance and slapped the snotty-nosed boy on the back of the head.

"Screw you! Get up and get to work!"

He reached out and fumbled among the bunch of buttons on the control panel that he couldn't understand at all.

Relying on his vague memory of the tadpole-script instruction manual that Old Cha had given him, he pressed a red button with an eye icon on the left.

A soft beep.

A faint blue light, like ripples on water, emanated from the surface of the shuttle's outer shell.

Immediately afterwards, the camera body faded in the sunlight, completely blending into the surrounding background.

It really can become invisible?

If we could get this thing back to China and hand it over to Fatty Wang...

The two got off the plane, and Slug lay on the ground dry heaving for a long time.

"Master Zhou, where are we going now?"

"Duh, of course we're going to find that space-manipulation delivery guy you mentioned!"

Stephen Chow straightened the suit he was wearing, which was a gift from Leonardo da Vinci.

How far is it from downtown?

The slug wiped away the white foam, opened its phone map, and looked around.

"This is the western suburbs. The place where the teleporter was captured is near the slums in the eastern district."

"Walking is definitely not an option; we need to get a car."

It took them more than an hour to find a secluded path.

In this desolate wilderness, there was a brand-new red Mustang parked there.

The grass in the distance was still rustling.

Well, these American workers are really something else, bringing outdoor adventure activities here in broad daylight, aren't they afraid of being carried away by mosquitoes?

Slug leaned over and pulled a wire from his pocket, ready to stick it into the car door lock.

"What are you doing?" Stephen Chow stopped him.

Slug was stunned. "Stealing a car, Mr. Zhou? Aren't we in a hurry?"

"How dare you!" Stephen Chow shouted righteously.

"Our 749th Bureau is a disciplined force! Not taking a single needle or thread from the people is a fine tradition ingrained in our bones! You're running a zero-dollar sale in broad daylight, do you have no respect for the law?!"

The slug was completely bewildered by the scolding.

"But...but how are we going to get there without stealing a car? There's not a single taxi in sight here."

Zhou Xingxing snorted coldly and reached for his waist.

A throwing knife appeared in his hand.

Old Zhou walked to the window of the Mustang and inserted the throwing knife through the gap between the window glass and the door.

"Click".

Stephen Chow opened the car door and got in.

He bent down and pulled out a cable from under the steering wheel.

I randomly picked out two red and blue lines and touched them together.

With a sizzle, the fire ignited successfully.

The slug stood outside the car, completely dumbfounded.

Isn't this still stealing a car?!

Stephen Chow peeked out and waved at the slug.

"What are you waiting for? Get in the car!"

The slug swallowed hard and obediently sat in the passenger seat.

"Master Zhou, didn't you just say... we shouldn't take even a needle or thread from the people?"

Stephen Chow floored the accelerator.

"You know nothing! This is called the emergency requisition of civilian transportation for the purpose of maintaining world peace and transnational security! This is a clearly defined administrative enforcement procedure!"

"It's the same principle as that outlaw Zhang San talking about emergency avoidance! I'll tear off a piece of scrap paper, write him an IOU, and stuff it into the tree; that'll fulfill my obligation to notify him!"

The slug huddled in its seat, too afraid to speak.

Trying to reason with this old man is just asking for trouble. He even thinks that the pair of wild lovers wrestling in the grass should be grateful to Master Zhou for sparing their lives.

The Mustang sped through the streets of Los Angeles and soon arrived at a dilapidated street.

The walls were covered in graffiti and trash, and a few flashy-dressed black thugs were squatting in the corner smoking marijuana.

The Mustang swung its tail and came to a steady stop in front of a store that had a sign that read "Red Apple Billiards Room".

The billiard room door was tightly closed, and two burly men, each nearly two meters tall, stood at the entrance.

"Master Zhou, this is it! The underground casino is right below that billiards room."

Stephen Chow spat the cigarette butt onto the ground, crushed it with his leather shoe, and strode toward the door.

Two burly men reached out and stopped him.

"Get lost, you yellow-skinned monkey. This place is closed to the public today."

Stephen Chow stopped in his tracks.

He looked up, a sly smile on his face: "Brothers, please don't misunderstand."

"I am a mediator from the neighborhood committee, here specifically to handle labor contract disputes."

"I heard that you have detained one of our unit's formal reserve employees. I've come to talk to him about the social insurance and housing fund."

The bald black man couldn't understand a word of what this Chinese man was rambling on about.

But he understood Stephen Chow's nonchalant face.

This is a provocation!

"Fuck you! I told you to get lost!"

The bald black man roared and reached for the pistol at his waist.

But he was too slow.

The bald black man's hand had just touched the gun handle.

Stephen Chow had already moved very close to him.

He grabbed the other person's wrist with his left hand and twisted it forcefully.

"Snap!"

The bald black man screamed, but before he could utter a second cry, he was in agony.

Stephen Chow slammed his right hand into his carotid artery.

Blind massage hands!

The old black man rolled his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

Another burly man with long hair was so frightened that his scalp tingled, and he drew his pistol to shoot.

Zhou Xingxing sneered, and with a flash of light, the gun barrel in the man's hand was sliced ​​in half.

Then Lao Zhou kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying three meters away.

Stephen Chow turned his head and waved to the snotty-nosed boy in the car: "See? This is called 'courtesy first, then force.' We're a civilized and polite national organization."

The slug was nodding wildly in the car, almost bringing tears to my eyes.

Yes, yes, you're absolutely right.

As long as you don't use that pipe-cutting knife to cut me!

Stephen Chow turned around and pulled open the roller shutter door.

Follow the slug's guidance to find the stairs leading to the underground casino.

Stephen Chow, carrying a butcher knife upside down, stomped down the stairs, shouting, "Listen up, you people inside! You're surrounded! Hand over our employees!"

"Otherwise, according to Article 38 of the Labor Law, I will carry out a forced physical liquidation of your forces today!"