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

The edge of the Nevada desert.

Gas station.

Behind the counter, the cashier, who had been dozing off, sat up straight, her eyes fixed on the cash register screen.

As long as you don't look up, these three jinxes in the shop don't exist.

Wolverine sat in the deepest shadow, his vest torn to shreds by the explosion.

He was calming himself down by smoking half a cigar.

The King of Cards ripped open his trouser leg, tearing off the charred fabric along with flesh and blood, letting out a muffled groan.

He used a red-hot folding knife to pry open the rolled-up flesh, scraping the tip of the knife against the tendons in search of shrapnel.

Zhou Xingxing became a conscientious neighborhood committee auntie.

Squatting down beside her, he solicitously handed her a sewing kit he'd taken from the hotel, which even had two paperclips neatly clipped inside.

"Do you want me to sew it for you? Don't let the thin needle fool you, my technique for sewing 'pissing beef balls' and 'soup-filled pig intestines' back in the day at the Southern vegetable market was absolutely top-notch."

Stephen Chow's face was full of sincerity.

"We've used traditional Chinese cross-stitch techniques, with fine, dense stitches, to guarantee a seamless, hidden double eyelid effect on your thigh, without any leakage!"

With a "clang," a blood-stained shrapnel landed on the floor tiles.

As Gambit looked at Stephen Chow, he felt a dull ache in his brainstem.

He decisively rejected this disgusting suggestion.

He grabbed a bottle of high-concentration alcohol and poured it directly onto the wound, then gritted his teeth and began threading the needle himself.

Stephen Chow was not discouraged when his sales pitch failed.

"Then let's talk about future career plans? The job is stable, the position is prestigious, and you can even be recognized as an outstanding employee at the end of the year. I can expedite the approval process for you right now."

"I don't want to work for any government."

Wolverine chuckled coldly from the shadows, his powerful lungs drawing out a bright red glow from his cigar.

"The government? They'll just treat you like nameless merchandise, lock you on an operating table, and cut open your brain."

Stephen Chow sighed and didn't continue his sales pitch.

"Fine, let's forget about the contract today. But as an observer, I have to warn you, your stitches are crooked, and the stitches at the end are too thick. It'll definitely leave a scar later, and you'll be prone to rheumatism on rainy days."

Gambit: "..."

"This morning, a rare collapse occurred in the west wing of the Four Seasons Hotel in Las Vegas, resulting in multiple confirmed deaths, including Harold King, a special advisor to the state government..."

Upon hearing this, the group turned their attention to the television hanging on the wall.

The scene cuts to ruins.

Immediately afterwards, two surveillance photos popped up on the screen.

One of them is the King of Cards.

The other picture shows Stephen Chow, running out with his butt sticking out, his expression slightly comical.

The host's tone was serious: "Police are making every effort to apprehend Raimi LeBeau, a mutant and professional gambler, and a suspected Asian accomplice. The two are suspected of using explosives to commit murder and terrorist attacks."

The King of Cards pointed at the screen, his laughter aggravating his wound, and he gasped, "Congratulations, you're now a wanted criminal in the United States of America."

Stephen Chow is very unhappy.

He was not only unhappy, but also very angry.

"Suspected Asian accomplice?!"

Stephen Chow jumped up, pointing at the screen with grief and indignation.

"Am I, the director of the Overseas Special Talent Introduction Office of the 749th Bureau of China, entitled to a travel allowance equivalent to that of a section chief! Don't I even deserve a proper name?!"

"And who took this screenshot? Are you kidding me? It makes me look like I'm stealing takeout!"

Wolverine spat, completely convinced that the man in the tattered suit was seriously mentally ill.

The strategist pulled down his trouser leg, haphazardly wrapped it with gauze twice, and said in a muffled voice, "I've always been like this. Wherever I go, I'm always the scapegoat. As long as I'm alive, I'm a suspect. You get used to it."

Stephen Chow glanced back at Gambit.

This seemingly philandering cousin actually no longer trusts anyone in the world.

No wonder she hesitated to go back with me.

"Let's put it another way and talk about protecting our rights first."

Stephen Chow started counting on his fingers:

"First, that guy called Shan Beng killed a high-ranking government official and framed us, which seriously damaged my reputation."

"Secondly, he also used a missile to bomb his cousin's legally operated bar, causing significant property damage."

"This infringes upon the legal rights of the three of us! As victims, we are now going to his home to demand an explanation, and to request compensation for lost wages and emotional distress. Isn't that a reasonable request?"

Wolverine sneered, "What's the difference between this and revenge?"

"This is called defending the dignity of working people."

The King of Cards chuckled, which aggravated his wounds, causing him to grimace again.

"OK."

The King of Cards stood up, leaning against the wall.

"I'll take you to find a friend, a guide who can lead the way. His name is 'Germain' Miguel. His mutant ability is to burrow at high speed through sand and concrete. He used to build underground tunnels for landslides."

Wolverine suddenly stood up, glancing sideways at Gambit: "Take me to him. I'm going to rip out Avalanche's guts and hang them on my signboard."

Stephen Chow excitedly pulled out a piece of stationery with a red header: "That's perfect! Cousin, I'll hire you as the temporary security consultant for this rights protection operation. You'll be paid by the day, with a separate food allowance. If you perform well..."

"Whoosh!"

The adamantium alloy claws popped out, shredded the letter, and hovered on Zhou Xingxing's nose.

"Listen, if you give me any more damn titles, I swear I'll rip your guts out and feed them to the dogs."

Stephen Chow remained completely calm.

He even used two fingers to gently pinch the middle steel claw and disdainfully pushed it to the side.

"With such a short temper, you'll have a lot of liver fire. Have you really considered our steel structure demolition project? We provide three meals a day."

Gambit laughed so hard he almost squatted back down: "Even if Logan were torn you to pieces right now, I could still plead him not guilty in court."

Wolverine's facial muscles twitched violently a few times.

He suppressed his urge to kill, withdrew his steel claws, kicked open the door, and walked out.

Looking at that lone wolf-like figure, Gambit's smile vanished.

He looked at Stephen Chow, who was heartbroken over the shredded piece of paper, and lowered his voice: "Aren't you afraid he'll kill you?"

Stephen Chow paused.

He looked down, took a crumpled Hongtashan cigarette out of his pocket, put it in his mouth, and lit it with a "pop".

Amidst the swirling smoke, his once nonchalant gaze revealed a depth of sorrow and compassion.

"I'm terrified, terrified to death."

He exhaled a puff of smoke.

"But if I don't do it, you guys won't even be able to secure a job with the five social insurances and one housing fund."

Zhou Xingxing looked up at the blinding sunlight outside the door, his voice tinged with a sigh.

"I can only stay in this rotten place, be used as expendable material, or be locked in an underground laboratory like a dog and used as a guinea pig for the rest of my life."

Wolverine, standing outside the door, paused, but without turning around, he walked straight towards the dilapidated pickup truck.

The King of Cards was somewhat surprised that he would say these things and did not continue the conversation.

"Gerberus is currently hiding from gambling debts, and he'll run away if he sees a stranger. He might even sell our location to Avalanche for money."

Stephen Chow resumed his smug expression and nodded nonchalantly: "It's okay, my specialty is chasing those bastards."