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

The third-hand Dodge Challenger has a dark red body.

There was a large spray paint mark on the right-side door that read "Jessica, I was wrong".

There was a faded skull sticker on the rear windshield.

The engine sounded like an old man who had been smoking for thirty years coughing.

Stephen Chow sat in the driver's seat with a deep expression.

"Old Joe may have a foul mouth, but he's not a bad person at heart."

Lorna sat in the passenger seat, clutching a can of food: "He just told you to get out."

"That's how American self-employed individuals express friendship."

Stephen Chow patted the steering wheel: "Look, he delivered cars, oil, and canned goods, and didn't even call the police. In a capitalist society, that's already considered internationalist behavior."

The soft-serve ice cream vendor in the back row was holding her ice cream tub, with the severed arm, leg, and several complex muscle bundles that had been removed from No. 1 piled up beside her.

"Can I ask... why are we carrying his arms and legs?"

Zhou Xingxing glanced at her in the rearview mirror and said seriously, "Comrade Xiaoruan, your thinking is very dangerous."

"Danger?"

"These are all polymer materials, nerve conduction interfaces, composite muscle bundles, and military-grade impact-resistant structures."

He lamented, "If we took this back to Da Vinci and disassembled it, it might lead to the development of an exoskeleton system for brick-moving on construction sites. The rate of lumbar disc herniation among older workers could decrease by at least 30%!"

The soft-serve ice cream fell silent.

Lorna turned her head to look out the window: "Are all the agents there this frugal?"

"Of course."

Stephen Chow said confidently, "Our country used to be poor. After the war, the Americans would leave shell casings lying all over the ground and not even pick them up. They were so wasteful. But in our market, people would pick up plastic bags that had fallen on the ground, shake them a couple of times, and continue using them."

Lorna's eye twitched slightly.

The car drove onto the interstate highway, with no pursuers behind.

The soft-serve ice cream leaned against the car window, looking at the night outside.

She had never ridden in a car like this before to leave a city.

In the past, every time I escaped, I would hide from the police, landlords, gangs, and drunks and sneak away at night.

Even though the car was crammed with the remains of cyborgs, and the white-suited man in the driver's seat chattered like a broken radio, she actually felt very at ease.

Yeah, it's absurd, but also safe.

Lorna was looking down at her phone, scrolling through her phone. She had just bought it from Xiao Heizi on the street; it was brand new and cheap.

[A conflict erupts in New York involving mutants, with a suspected clash between members of the Brotherhood and the X-Men. A third armed group has also intervened.]

Lorna clicked on the news.

The image is blurry; it was taken by a resident using their mobile phone.

Outside the abandoned factory, a beam of red energy ripped through the night sky, followed by metal fragments being swept into the air.

The reporter spoke very quickly.

"...According to eyewitnesses, the two sides involved in the battle were suspected to be Magneto's Brotherhood of Mutants and personnel associated with Charles Xavier's Academy. After the battle lasted for about eleven minutes, an unidentified armed force suddenly intervened, using non-standard electromagnetic interference weapons and high-frequency sonic devices, forcing both sides to withdraw..."

Stephen Chow glanced at his phone: "Oh dear, Old Wan's out demolishing houses again?"

Lorna frowned: "You know him?"

"I don't know him."

"Then why do you call me that so familiarly?"

"I see him on the news every day; I'm practically familiar with the old man who sells pancakes downstairs."

Stephen Chow clicked his tongue: "The factory's outer walls have all collapsed, the steel beams are broken into a jumbled mess, and the demolition work was completely unplanned. They should have fenced off the area first, then reduced the dust, and finally sorted and recycled everything!"

Lorna, who was initially indignant, was rendered speechless by his words.

She then opened the comments section, which was filled with insults.

"The monsters are fighting again."

"They should all be put in jail."

"The registration bill is too lenient."

"Why should my tax money be used to repair the neighborhoods they've destroyed?"

Stephen Chow suddenly reached out, took the phone, and glanced at the comments section.

Then he shook his head: "American netizens have no manners."

"At least netizens in our area pay attention to rhyming when they curse, and sometimes they can even write a seven-character quatrain. These people just keep repeating 'monster,' 'get out,' and 'die,' their vocabulary is too poor."

Lorna: "..."

Soft-serve ice cream: "..."

Stephen Chow continued, "But don't take it too seriously. Online insults don't count. The people who pay your salary in real life are the ones who matter."

He said it very casually.

"When you arrive at the construction site in the future, if anyone dares to call you monsters to your face, don't be the first to attack them."

Lorna glanced at him sideways: "And then?"

"Record it first."

Zhou Xingxing said seriously, "Keep the evidence. Then find the project manager, the labor union, and the labor inspector. If all else fails, find me. If the other party makes the first move, you can fight back appropriately, but don't trap them in a wall."

"You really intend to manage us like ordinary workers?"

"Hmm." Zhou Xingxing looked at the road ahead: "You guys aren't monsters in an exhibition hall, or consumables in a laboratory. Once you sign a contract, you're employees."

"Employees should act like employees."

"Clock in at work, eat after get off work, report work injuries, receive New Year's gifts. Scold your boss when you need to, slack off when you need to, but stop thinking about the end of the world all day long. If the world ends, who will pay your year-end bonus?"

……

The journey back to New York went surprisingly smoothly.

It seems that the tracking chip did indeed play a role in grassroots research.

Stephen Chow checked the local news once during the journey.

A brief firefight broke out in the western suburbs of Chicago when an unidentified armed squad attacked a stolen van, the occupants of which were allegedly members of the Black Snake gang.

A bald man was tackled to the ground at the scene and was later taken away by members of a mysterious organization.

The news headline was exaggerated.

[Gang suspected of being involved in mutant terrorist network; federal agencies intervene in investigation]

After reading it, Stephen Chow looked solemn.

"very good."

Lorna squinted: "What's so good about it?"

"This shows that our job placement was very successful."

"He's been arrested."

That's called onboarding training.

"You're really despicable."

"Thanks, you've already complimented me once. Hopefully, when Stryker sees the chip on that thug, he'll seriously rethink his talent identification system."

The soft-serve ice cream chirped, "Will that thug die?"

The little girl still looked worried.

Even though those people had just tried to burn down her place and extort protection money from her, she couldn't completely treat other people's deaths as a joke.

Stephen Chow was silent for half a second.

"Comrade Xiaoruan, kindness is a good thing, but don't take on the burden of everyone's lives."

The soft-serve ice cream lowered its head and softly hummed in agreement.

Stephen Chow added, "Of course, if you really feel bad about it, make two tons of ice cream for the children in the disaster area after you go back to China, and that will offset the bad deed."

Soft-serve ice cream: "..."

In the early hours of the morning, the Dodge Challenger finally turned into the back alleys of Chinatown.

The sign for Fuguiyuan Health Center is still lit up.

As soon as the car came to a stop, the back door was opened from the inside.

The slug poked its head out, sniffing and yelling, "I thought Stryker chopped you up and fed you to the dogs!"

Stephen Chow got out of the car and straightened his white suit.

"Watch your wording; we are taking a strategic detour."

The slug, seeing the severed limbs behind it, asked curiously, "What's this?"

"Local specialties".

"You went to Chicago to buy local specialties, and you came back with an arm?"

"Made in the USA, military-grade quality, worth studying."

"Could you come back even once, and bring back something normal?"

Stephen Chow thought for a moment and said, "I also brought three cans of gasoline, a case of canned goods, and a special talent for ice cream production."

The soft-serve ice cream popped its head out of the car and waved nervously.

Hi~