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

The pickup truck bumped along the desert road at night.

Miguel the gerbil curled up in the back seat, his knees against his chin.

"What kind of people are you putting down there?"

"Those in debt, those who betrayed, and... mutants who can be sold for money."

"As far as I know, Shan Zhuan started doing this about six months ago."

In the passenger seat, Stephen Chow was studying pipeline diagrams by the moonlight streaming through the car window.

Upon hearing this, he paused in his folding of the blueprints.

"Will it be disposed of tonight?"

His voice lowered, losing its usual nonchalant tone.

The gerbil shrank its neck: "I don't know... but the Silver Peak Consortium is here. The landslide caused such a big mess, they definitely have to report back."

"Silver Peak?" The King of Cards gripped the steering wheel, his brows furrowing slightly.

"It's the conglomerate behind that official who died at the Four Seasons Hotel."

Are there more experts?

Stephen Chow looked at the cacti flitting past the window and asked, "What do you Americans usually do when you get blamed?"

"Bite."

A deep, hoarse voice came from the back seat.

Wolverine had kept his eyes closed, but he finally opened them.

"A dog cornered against a wall is in the most danger."

……

Meanwhile, at the deepest part of the bunker.

The telephone rang, echoing in the empty room.

Shan Beng sat on an iron chair with a Las Vegas street map spread out in front of him.

The phone rang three times before he finally picked up the receiver with a blank expression.

"A landslide." The voice on the other end was calm.

"The forensic report is in. The internal organs have severe resonant impact damage, which matches your 'underground demolition' method by a margin of 99%."

Shan Beng gritted his teeth and didn't argue: "I'll handle it cleanly."

"Before tonight."

"Smack."

The call was immediately disconnected.

Shan Beng gripped the receiver tightly, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.

The next second, he stood up and kicked over the tool rack next to him.

"Damn it, Silver Peak...a bunch of bitches in suits!"

Footsteps could be heard outside the bunker door.

Two men wearing tactical vests pushed open the door and walked in, with the Silver Peak Group's distinctive badge pinned to their chests.

The leader had a buzz cut and a hideous scar that ran diagonally from his brow bone to his chin.

Shan Beng turned around, his eyes fierce: "Are you here to help, or to spy on me?"

"Watch your attitude."

The man with the buzz cut smiled, but his smile was cold.

"The mission is simple: capture Gambit Remy LeBron and that Asian man in the white suit."

"Dead is fine, but the report needs to be detailed. After all, we need two perfect scapegoats."

He took a step forward and lowered his voice: "If we can't handle this, we'll put you in the report too. 'Las Vegas mob boss colluding with mutant terrorists to carry out a larger-scale attack' is eye-catching, isn't it?"

Shan Beng stared at him intently, without saying a word.

The man with the buzz cut patted him on the shoulder: "Don't block the path I left for you."

After saying that, he turned and left.

Another team member turned back at the door and added coldly, "By the way, the vault on the second basement level also needs to be emptied tonight. We'll incinerate all the 'stock' to avoid leaving any DNA behind."

The iron gate closed.

The mountain collapsed, and he stood still, laughing in exasperation.

Damn Harold King!

I could easily arrange a perfectly clean woman for you!

He insisted on going to prostitutes himself and even hid his identity!

Now look what's happened, they're blaming it all on me!

……

A car repair shop on the outskirts of Las Vegas.

Zhou Xingxing laid the blueprints on the hood and used a few old spark plugs to cover the corners.

"Second basement level."

Stephen Chow's slender fingers tapped on the drawing.

"Seventeen separate cells, only one main ventilation duct, and the escape route... here, is marked as sealed off."

The strategist stared at the densely packed pipeline diagrams, somewhat taken aback: "You're going to rescue someone?"

Zhou Xingxing didn't look up, his finger moving to the red area in the center of the drawing: "Germain said the landslide needs to be cleared here tonight."

"Our goal is to prevent a landslide."

Wolverine leaned against the truck cab, drinking vodka.

"Kill him, and all problems will be solved. I have no interest in being some kind of savior."

Stephen Chow looked up, his face unusually serious.

"You're right, killing him directly is the easiest way."

"But there are over a dozen mutants locked up inside! They're your fellow countrymen!"

Wolverine scoffed, "You're not a saint, don't pretend to be all compassionate."

"Nonsense! Of course not!"

"But a dozen highly skilled individuals are being kept like cabbages, locked up in a basement to die?! This is a tremendous waste of valuable labor!"

"Even if it were the King of Heaven himself, I'm going to convert these unlicensed illegal workers into permanent employees of our company today!"

The King covered his face and sighed in pain.

He actually thought this guy was a good person.

"Fine, even if you're going to go and carry out your illegal recruitment, how are you going to take it with you?"

Gambit pointed to the blueprints, "Gerberas can burrow underground, but they can't carry that many people at once. Besides, the cell door locks are all made of explosion-proof titanium alloy."

"It will be implemented in two phases."

Stephen Chow is now in work mode.

"The first phase involves infiltrating, rescuing people, and incidentally gathering evidence to solidify the chain of evidence regarding illegal employment during the landslide."

"The second stage involves forcing the mountain to collapse and reveal itself."

Turning to the gerbil, Zhou Xingxing gave a benevolent capitalist smile: "Comrade Miguel, can you create localized high-frequency vibrations underground? Like…"

"A rat digging a hole?"

"Yes, it's like rats digging a hole. You create vibrations to attract the attention of the landslide surveillance cameras, and your cousin takes the opportunity to break down the cell door."

Stephen Chow nodded in satisfaction, then looked at Wolverine.

"As for Comrade Logan, you are responsible for dealing with all close-combat threats."

"What kind of crappy job did you assign me this time?"

"Joint Inspectorate for Unlicensed and Illegal Operations"

"Your task is simple: if you see anyone inside who isn't wearing a safety helmet or safety shoes and is waving a gun around, just physically cancel their account."

"Say 'military' again, and I'll inspect your vocal cords."

The gerbil, shrinking its neck, timidly asked Gambit, "He...he's really not a lunatic?"

The King of Cards patted Gerbil on the shoulder: "You'll get used to it. At least the promises he made sound pretty good."

……

After the Kun hour.

Above the vault is the abandoned entrance to the old silver mine.

The place was half-collapsed in the night, with rubble and rusty rails piled up like small hills.

The gerbil kicked aside a loose rock slab, revealing the shaft below.

He led the way, silently sliding down the iron ladder at the edge of the shaft.

The second-ranked player, holding a dark purple playing card between his fingers, provided illumination.

As Wolverine brought up the rear, his nostrils twitched slightly; he could already smell the blood emanating from the depths, a scent that had never seen the light of day.

Stephen Chow was the last one to go down.

The group had just landed.

Wolverine's nostrils twitched: "Wait a minute! There's a smell of gunpowder in the dirt!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the gerbil that had been standing at the front disappeared into the ground like an eel, leaving only a mound of earth that quickly receded into the distance.

Immediately afterwards, a sharp "click" of a mechanism rang out, and the escape route above their heads was blocked.

A sudden electrical noise rang out from deep within the mine tunnel.

Immediately afterwards, the sound of the landslide, carrying intense killing intent and a chilling echo, came from the loudspeaker hidden in the shadows:

"Welcome, you bunch of fools who don't know what's good for you."

It's a trap!