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

Zhou Xingxing stood outside the archives room of Bureau 749, looking down at his phone.

The 5G signal bars in the upper right corner of the screen are all full, that's ridiculous.

In this dilapidated place converted from an air-raid shelter on the second basement level, even a walkie-talkie would have to crackle to work.

But what wafted through the cracks in the rusty iron gate wasn't just full-strength Wi-Fi, but also cheerful square dance music.

Stephen Chow pushed open the door and entered.

He thought that this doll, rescued from a shady American laboratory, would hide in a dark corner of a basement and shed tears upon arriving in a foreign land.

Mutants who have suffered severe psychological trauma often experience a severe stress response in the first few days.

The scene before him made him dizzy.

Aunt Wang, the cleaning lady, and Uncle Li, the security guard, sat on small plastic stools next to the desk, frantically tapping their phones on the screen.

"Hey Lao Li! Hurry, hurry! The free-range eggs from Pinduoduo are about to be snapped up!"

"Don't rush me! I'm keeping an eye on things! The signal around Anton is really good, much better than having no signal at all! That's where I managed to snag that roll of toilet paper last time!"

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Neither of them looked up.

Anton Quest was sitting behind the desk.

This mutant weapon, which had been tortured by Stryker for fifty-eight days and could smash people into walls when it went berserk, was now wearing blue light blocking glasses and holding an enamel mug with "Serve the People" printed on it.

They are currently labeling a 1998 file with classification tags.

His calm face and eyes exuded a more serious, professional air than Stephen Chow, a section-level field clerk.

"Xiao An, take a break, you'll hurt your eyes." Aunt Wang's fingers were tapping rapidly on the screen, and she took a handful of peeled roasted chestnuts from the pocket of her floral apron.

"Your internet speed is so fast, you can snag eggs every time! Auntie's bringing you meat buns tomorrow morning! My husband chopped the filling himself, it's all meat!"

Anton stopped what he was doing, adjusted his blue light blocking glasses, and gave a shy smile.

"Thank you, Aunt Wang. Please place it aside and be careful not to dirty the special file number 042."

His Beijing accent was clear and accurate, with standard retroflex endings.

Zhou Xingxing stood at the door, watching this harmonious scene of daily life in the neighborhood committee, and coughed twice.

"Oh my, Director Zhou is here to inspect our work." Grandpa Li put away his phone and casually stuffed it into his pocket.

"Old Li, come on, come on, there's still some floor outside that hasn't been swept." Aunt Wang also stood up, and the two of them chuckled, each carrying a small stool, and slipped out of the archives room.

The room fell silent.

Anton's head, which had been forcibly shaved and covered with needle marks, now grew soft hair, and his sunken cheeks regained a rosy hue.

The white shirt was neatly pressed, with the top button fastened.

"Director Zhou, you've arrived." Anton put down the file, stood up, and bowed.

"Sit down, why are you being so polite? We don't do that in our company." Zhou Xingxing waved his hand and took out a record form for follow-up visits to special talents introduced from overseas from his pocket.

"That stingy bureau chief forced me to do this follow-up call. Come on, Xiao Dong, just answer anything, I'm in a rush to finish and get my paycheck."

Anton nodded, staring intently at Stephen Chow.

"I really enjoy my job; every file here has its proper place."

His fingers traced the neatly arranged folders on the desktop.

"By year, danger level, and event type, everything is well organized." His voice trembled, revealing a sense of satisfaction.

"This makes me feel... that the world is controllable. I just need to categorize them, and tomorrow the sun will rise as usual, and they will still be here."

Anton looked up, his eyes fixed on Stephen Chow. "Thank you for giving me this job."

Stephen Chow couldn't take it anymore; this kid was incredibly sincere.

Even someone as thick-skinned as him felt embarrassed and could only cough twice to cover up his awkwardness.

"As the saying goes, 'If I don't go to hell, who will?' Now that we're here, let's get down to business! Our 749th Bureau will never let down our hardworking comrades!"

Stephen Chow waved his hand and grabbed the ballpoint pen on the table. "Alright, I see your sleep quality and mental state are both good, so I'll just tick them all."

He quickly drew several large checkmarks next to "slept for more than eight consecutive hours", "daily food intake varies normally", and "unintentional tendency to vandalize public property" on the form.

"Wait, Director Zhou. I've discovered some historical issues regarding the archiving."

Anton took an old ledger from the bottom drawer of his desk.

Zhou Xingxing's eyelids twitched.

Anton pushed the ledger to the center of the table, adjusted his glasses, and turned to a page.

"I am responsible for every single file that enters the archive. This includes financial files."

He pointed to one of the lines, "Director Zhou, this is the expense report you submitted at the beginning of the year. The category is: purchase of high-explosive grenades and repair of tactical bulletproof vests."

Anton looked up, his eyes filled with confusion. "Why is the attached invoice stamped with the official seal of the Haozailai Pork Wholesale Stall in Chaoyang District?"

Stephen Chow felt a chill run down his spine.

Which intern did this?! Shouldn't such sensitive accounts be destroyed separately?!

How did it get mixed up with the regular files?!

"And here's more." Anton turned the page. "In February, the special intelligence fee for overseas operations was $20,000. You applied for reimbursement of the full amount."

"The attached invoice is for 32 Supreme Gold Card packages for the Regent Grand Hotel Bath Center?"

"Director Zhou, this doesn't make sense from an archival classification standpoint. How can a package ticket from a bathhouse be transformed into overseas intelligence? There's no necessary physical connection or logical causal link between the two. If we force it into the intelligence category, the rigor of the entire archival system will be compromised."

I rely on!

This kid is usually quiet, but when it comes to checking accounts, he's even more ruthless than Director Wang!

To get rid of those informants, I spent a whole two weeks soaking in the pool with them, until I rubbed off three layers of skin!

If they don't reimburse me, do they expect me to pay out of my own pocket?

"In March, we tracked wear and tear on the mutant vehicles. The attached receipt is for a 10-ride bumper car pass at Happy Valley Amusement Park."

"April, tactical communication equipment upgrade fee. Invoice details: Subor learning machine and two boxes of Super Mario game cartridges."

"Ancestor!" Zhou Xingxing lunged forward, covering the account book, his eyes wide and his voice low. "Can't we just let go of some historical issues?! This is called covert operations on a special front! You wouldn't understand!"

Anton frowned, resisting this explanation.

"Even covert operations need to comply with basic accounting laws. Without reclassification, the logical chain breaks. I suggest reclassifying these as 'personal living and entertainment expenses' and then requesting a resubmission for review from the finance department..."

"Break it if you want! I'll hold the sky up if it falls!" Zhou Xingxing refused to let go, afraid that the thing would end up on Director Wang's desk. His eyes swept across the table, and he grabbed the sketchbook from the corner of Anton's desk.

"Your drawing skills are quite good! Did you learn from...Van Gogh?"

Zhou Xingxing pressed the ledger under his elbow and opened the drawing board.

"That's a wonderful drawing! That concludes our follow-up visit for today!"

Bye-bye~