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

The torrents are trying to utilize their power.

The military-grade explosion-proof glass is at least four centimeters thick and is embedded in a cast steel frame.

The electronic lock panel is illuminated with a blue light, supports fingerprint recognition and a six-digit numeric password, and has a warning sign next to it.

Unauthorized activation will trigger the C4 self-destruct device.

His younger brother was lying on the iron bed three meters away behind the door.

The torrent spreads out its hands, and a vortex begins to gather in its palms.

A picture flashed through his mind.

When Anton was twelve, he chased after him with a crayon drawing and shouted.

"Brother, look at the tornado I drew."

That painting is still at the very bottom of his backpack.

The colored pencil marks had long since worn away, but the crooked signature on the corner of the drawing was still there: Anton Quest.

At that time.

Screw that time.

The vortex that had gathered in the palm of the torrent began to expand.

"Hey! Don't move, I'll do it!"

Stephen Chow reached behind his waist and pulled out a butcher knife.

The torrent's face turned green.

"This door can't even be penetrated by armor-piercing bullets! You take one..."

He looked down at the knife, then hesitated for two seconds before pausing to find the right words.

"Take a meat cleaver and chop upwards?"

Stephen Chow glanced at him sideways.

That look clearly said, "You just wait and see."

There is a black sealing strip at the junction of the tempered glass and the steel frame of the door frame.

Below the rubber strip is the physical fixing structure, the locking tongue.

The bolt of the electronic lock is made of alloy, but there is an unavoidable gap between the bolt and the slot in the door frame.

Because nothing in this world is absolutely perfect; there will always be gaps.

Once you find the crack, you can pick it out.

Stephen Chow used his left hand to press down on the top of the door frame to steady himself, and with his right hand holding the knife, he probed the thinnest tip of the blade along the edge of the sealing strip.

The tip of the knife touched the metal.

He closed his eyes.

The blade of the butcher knife traveled along a gap of less than two millimeters, and paused when it met the side of the latch.

Zhou Xingxing adjusted the angle, and the blade slid along the curved surface of the latch to the base of the buckle.

With a click.

The military-grade electronic lock panel bounced off the door frame, and a section of wire fell to the ground.

The explosion-proof door popped open a crack.

There was no explosion.

C4 is triggered when the panel is activated without authorization, but Zhou Xingxing didn't touch the panel at all.

He identified the entire lock cylinder structure from a physical perspective.

The rapids left me speechless.

Stephen Chow tucked the butcher knife back into his waistband.

"It's the same principle as removing pork ribs at the market; just find the joint and gently pry it off."

"That thing is an alloy latch..."

"Pork bones are tough, have you ever cut them?"

The rapids haven't been cut through.

He has hardly ever been inside a kitchen in his entire life.

The two men slipped into the cell.

Jiliu rushed to the iron bed in three quick steps, pressed his hands on his younger brother's shoulders, and his voice trembled.

"Anton! It's me! Your brother!"

Anton kept his eyes closed and did not react.

The lines on my arm were still slowly moving.

Jiliu reached out to pry open the metal buckle on his wrist. The buckle was made of high-quality steel and had a push-button lock that required a special tool to open.

"Anton, can you hear me? Wake up!"

Anton's eyelids twitched, then he suddenly opened them.

Those eyes are not right.

The color of the pupils changed; the iris was covered by a layer of silvery-gray inorganic matter, and the focus was no longer visible.

"Anton!"

His response was a sharp shriek.

The steel buckle on the iron bed was forcibly torn off, and Anton's right fist slammed directly into Jiliu's chest.

The body of the torrent crashed into the wall three meters away, leaving a dent.

He slid to the ground, blood seeping from the corner of his lips, and couldn't catch his breath for a long time.

He tried to stand up, but his knees trembled twice, and his hands cut himself on the shards of glass before he could barely prop himself up.

Anton rolled over and stood up from the iron bed. The silver lines on his arms had spread to his neck and were now creeping up his face.

The data panel screen on the bedside table is broken; it wasn't smashed, it shattered from the inside.

The medical monitors on the wall exploded one after another, scattering glass shards and circuit board fragments all over the floor.

The fluorescent light tubes on the ceiling exploded into powder, and the filaments were twisted into a pretzel from being heated red-hot.

Unstable magnetic field.

The X genes that were forcibly implanted in Anton's body are going out of control, and the rejection reaction has triggered some kind of magnetic field interference.

The alarm blared.

The red police lights began to spin, flashing and turning the entire corridor blood-red.

The sound of hurried footsteps approached from afar.

Anton's silvery-gray pupils locked onto Stephen Chow.

Lacking cognition and judgment, they are driven solely by an aggressive urge fueled by a genetic rampage.

He lunged at Stephen Chow.

It was incredibly fast. The mutated fist carried magnetic field ripples, and wherever the fist passed, metal fragments on the ground were attracted up and flew over with it.

Zhou Xingxing didn't dodge. He pulled out half a bottle of Red Star Erguotou and used his left hand to grab Anton's wrist as he swung it at him.

The bone in his palm hurts; this kid's forearm is almost as hard as metal.

He raised the bottle with his right hand, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp.

Puffing out his cheeks to the limit.

Anton's left fist came flying at him, but Zhou Xingxing dodged it by tilting his head and then his head came right in front of Anton's face with a soft "plop".

A cloud of alcohol mist sprayed onto Anton's face.

After the strong liquor was atomized in his mouth, it was pushed out by a long breath of internal energy, and the alcohol particles were directly poured into Anton's mouth and nose.

Extremely spicy.

The spiciness of Erguotou, mixed with the high temperature of the internal energy, rushes straight to the top of one's head.

Alcohol irritates the nasal mucosa, triggering a severe physiological stress reflex.

Anton's silvery-gray pupils contracted, and his facial muscles twitched twice.

"Achoo!" The spread of the metallic pattern suddenly slowed down.

After the second sneeze, the silvery-gray sheen on the skin began to darken.

"Achoo!!"

The third sneeze was so powerful that Anton himself stumbled back two steps.

His eyes rolled back, and he fell straight backward.

His body, weighing over 140 pounds, slammed to the ground, and the back of his head bounced off the floor.

I'm dizzy.

Stephen Chow shook his hands, which were wet with alcohol, and looked down at the empty Erguotou bottle in his arms.

"What a pity, I was thinking of saving some for the journey."

Jiliu struggled to his feet from the wall, clutching his chest as he limped over to his unconscious brother on the ground.

Anton's face was covered in snot and alcohol, but his breathing was steady.

"You just...sprayed baijiu (Chinese liquor) in his face?"

"Erguotou" (a type of Chinese liquor).

Stephen Chow corrected him.

"The national staple liquor, those gene inhibitors that cost millions in the US don't work, but this one does."

After a moment of silence, the torrent gave a thumbs up.

"Awesome!"

Stephen Chow crouched down to check Anton's pulse and temperature, his mind racing.

The mixture of internal energy and alcohol can interrupt the berserk state, but only temporarily.

If this X gene rejection reaction is not addressed at its root, the next attack will be even more severe.

You need to find a professional to handle this.

Da Vinci might have a solution; we'll have to go back and discuss it further.

The footsteps outside the corridor were getting closer.

Stephen Chow hoisted Anton onto his right shoulder and drew a butcher knife with his left hand.

With a person weighing over 140 pounds on his shoulders, he didn't even bend his back.

Back when I was selling pork, I had to carry half a pig back and forth between the cold storage and the chopping board several times a day. Each pig weighed over 200 jin (100 kg).