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

Fragments of memory churned in my mind.

The incandescent light on the operating table...

The sound of molten alloy being poured into bone marrow...

And then there's the process of those experimental subjects, who don't even deserve names and are only given numbers, quietly passing away one by one on the next table.

"Aaaaaah!"

The long-buried wounds were instantly detonated, and the enraged Wolverine transformed into a completely out-of-control beast, charging forward.

With her left hand, three steel claws pierced through the man's left shoulder blade, forcefully lifting him up and pinning him to the wall.

The three claws of its right hand were swooped down onto his neck, the blades pressed against his carotid artery.

"Where am I? I'll count to one."

"Go...go down...turn right at the third fork...freight elevator shaft! Code 4791..." The man with the buzz cut was in so much pain that tears and snot streamed down his face. He lost control of his bladder and his crotch was soaked.

Without uttering a single word, Wolverine withdrew his left claw.

The man with the buzz cut slid down the wall and collapsed into a heap, with three bloody holes on his shoulder from which bubbles were coming out.

Before he could even cover his wound, Wolverine had already raised his leg and stomped on his head with a "smack."

The King of Cards shook his head, unable to bear watching any longer, and turned to look at Stephen Chow beside him, intending to break the silence with a French-style dry joke or a few sarcastic remarks.

But the words stuck in his throat.

At this moment, Stephen Chow was holding a rag, looking down and expressionlessly wiping the bloodstains off the butcher knife bit by bit.

No foul language, no body search.

They didn't mention reimbursement either.

The King of Cards has been hanging out with this unreliable Chinese agent for almost a week now.

He had never seen a face so expressionless.

This kind of profoundness is more chilling than facing a rampaging Wolverine.

If this pork seller goes crazy, even God might get a couple of slaps.

"Walk."

Stephen Chow only said one word.

The three men descended rapidly along the mine tunnel.

From the first fork in the road to the freight elevator shaft, and then to the last iron gate.

Three lines of defense, twenty fully armed mercenaries, two remote-controlled machine guns, and several combat dogs.

They only held them off for less than a minute.

Wolverine is like a runaway meat grinder.

The King of Cards' playing cards blasted the creature that tried to fight back into charred pieces.

Stephen Chow, who was walking at the very end, completely abandoned the environmental concept of "leaving the body intact for safekeeping".

That ancestral pig-slaughtering knife transformed into a scythe of death. Wherever the blade passed, alloy gun barrels snapped cleanly, and the arm that dared to hold the gun, along with half of its shoulder blade, was sliced ​​off like a butcher dissecting an ox. The main theme was "violent layoffs."

After crushing everything in their path, the three finally stood before the entrance to the second basement level.

A door.

The composite armor structure has forging patterns and welding marks visible on its surface.

The card player swiped the magnetic card he had stolen, and the door lock's red light came on.

"It's locked inside." The strategist threw the magnetic card away.

He took two steps back, fanning out ten playing cards between his fingers, and crimson energy spread along the surface of the cards.

With a flick of the wrist, ten cards were fanned out and affixed to the surface of the armored door.

explosion.

The smoke and dust cleared.

The armored door now has a cluster of dents the size of a fist, the deepest of which can fit half a finger joint.

"We can't increase the amount any further," the strategist shook his head.

"At this distance, if the explosive yield were doubled, the landslide would bury all three of us together."

Wolverine stepped forward, his adamantium claws piercing the crater and twisting as he tried to drill deeper.

After the claws penetrated more than ten centimeters, the speed noticeably slowed down. The armored door was too thick; the Adamantium claws could cut through it, but not through it.

"I'll do it."

Stephen Chow's voice came from behind.

Wolverine, who was about to cleave him diagonally, glanced back at him and retreated silently.

Zhou Xingxing walked to the door, reached out and knocked on the armored door, listened to the dull echo, and then drew out a butcher knife and twirled it in his hand.

Slightly bend your knees and lower your center of gravity.

He focused his energy in his dantian, channeling his inner strength into the blade.

The blade, forged from the cold iron of the Tianshan Mountains, emitted an extremely pleasant hum.

The King of Cards took three steps back.

He told himself it wasn't out of fear; his senses were telling him the extent and intensity of the strike.

Wolverine didn't back down; he stared at the knife.

Stephen Chow takes action.

Diagonal cleaving.

From the top right to the bottom left, the method follows the grain of the ribs when chopping them on the cutting board.

The moment the blade touched the surface of the armored door, sparks and debris flew out like a fountain.

One cut ends, then a second one begins!

After several cuts.

"Bang!"

A piece of armor plate fell off the door at an angle, bounced twice on the ground.

The gap is just big enough for an adult to squeeze through sideways.

Stephen Chow sheathed his sword.

His forehead was covered in sweat, and his wrists were trembling slightly.

He shook his hand and put the knife back in his waistband.

Wolverine's nostrils twitched a few times.

Those hands...

The hands that had cut through countless enemies began to tremble.

Stephen Chow smelled it.

The King of Cards also smelled it.

The three of them crawled through the crevice one by one.

The second basement level is much larger than it appears on the blueprints.

The iron gate was completely open, and the inside was empty.

Some cells still had rusty shackles hanging on the walls, and dark stains on the floor.

Some of the bed boards have scratches, and deep grooves can be seen on the metal panels.

At the end of the central corridor of the prison cells was the incineration workshop.

Three large industrial incinerators stand side by side.

The furnace door was half-open, but the temperature inside was still over 1,000 degrees Celsius, and the heat wave could scald your face even from more than ten meters away.

At the door of the nearest furnace, there was an arm that hadn't been able to be inserted.

Its skin is dark blue, and its fingertips are forked, much like the fins of some aquatic animal.

You can see even more inside the furnace.

They were burned, like garbage.

Wolverine stood motionless in front of the second incinerator.

No one could guess what he was thinking.

Perhaps he was thinking about those numbers.

X-01, X-02, X-03...

Those who were pushed into Weapon X Lab with him probably disappeared in the same way later.

No name, no tombstone.

Even the ashes are mixed together, making it impossible to tell who is who.

Stephen Chow walked slowly to the stove alone.

Several items were scattered on the ground.

A blood-stained hospital gown, the size was too small.

A slipper, the left one, with the sole worn very thin.

There was also a half-finished plastic wristband with a serial number and barcode printed on it.

He squatted down, picked up the hospital gown, and looked at it.

The bloodstains were completely dry and stiff, and there was a crooked marker drawing on the collar.

The King of Cards suddenly felt very uncomfortable in this situation, but he didn't say anything.

He recalled what Stephen Chow had once said: to be locked in an underground laboratory like a dog and be a guinea pig for life.

At the time, he thought it was just a rhetorical device.

The loudspeaker hissed.

The sound of an avalanche came: "Crack! Crack! Crack! ...Stop looking! That batch of goods doesn't have a quality inspection certificate, so I can only dispose of it as construction waste!"

"Since you've crawled into the scrap yard yourselves, you might as well join them in filling in the foundation!"

"This can be considered your final contribution to the construction of Las Vegas!"