Super Fighting Tokyo.

Oliver responded nonchalantly, "I've arrested the vast majority of inmates in Arizona's state prisons. I can arrest any inmate, no matter what kind."

To Kazuo Yamashita, this explanation sounded as bizarre as an urban legend.

But having experienced so much recently, Yamashita Kazuo could understand. "Speaking of which, why would someone who is a prisoner help catch criminals?"

"Ah……"

Oliva straightened up, smiled at everyone, and said, "Leave both kidnappings and terrorist attacks to me."

"I will help IDEAL, the Bug Organization, and the remaining three escaped death row inmates."

"You want to know the reason?"

Oliva grinned, his voice low and menacing: "I will never allow them to be freer than me!!"

"..."

When these words came from Oliva's mouth, no one could refute them.

Even the scarred man with the terrifying face in the distance only interrupted him.

"Finished greetings? Mr. Oliva, do you remember me?"

The scarred man, holding a shotgun, displayed his grotesque, scarred face. "I am Jeff Maxon, a former New York State Police officer."

Seeing that Oliva didn't respond, Jeff continued:

“Twenty-four years ago, on 7th Street in Manhattan, I was using my position to earn some extra money from hippies when you suddenly appeared behind me.”

"I was furious and kicked you, but you treated me like a monkey, inflicting horrific physical damage on me."

“My face, my arms, my legs—all destroyed, leaving me barely breathing, my body shattered, struggling on the verge of death.”

"Can you imagine my life after this?"

Jeff's face grew increasingly grim as he raised his gun and aimed it at Oliva. "I've wanted to see you again for 24 years."

"I'll make you regret it, regret not killing me that day..."

Jeff's tone was very calm.

Having prepared for 24 years, he had long since turned his anger into action, and he didn't mind waiting a little longer; he even wanted to take a few more glances at Oliva.

He tilted his head to signal Oliva to come forward.

Oliva slowly took a step forward, facing the dark muzzle of the gun, but couldn't help laughing along the way.

"What a huge misunderstanding."

Looking at Jeff, Oliver grinned. "You're a vintage wine poured into the barrel more than twenty years ago, and now I'm about to pull the plug and slowly pour it into a glass..."

"It makes me happy, excited..."

"..."

Oliva murmured to himself and, at Jeff's prompting, stopped two or three meters away.

Click!

Jeff cocked his shotgun, wary of any tricks Olba might pull, and said, "Take off your clothes—both top and bottom."

Oliva did as he wished.

He took off his shirt, then his loose trousers, until he was left with only a pair of black briefs.

"Is that enough, Jeff? There are ladies here after all..."

Oliva stood still with a smile.

His bulging, well-developed muscles were even more exaggerated than Hao Hongye's "super physique," covering his entire body like armor, resembling a living textbook of muscles, with each muscle clearly defined.

Seeing this, even Jeff, who was in control, couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat.

"I see, no wonder even I, a police officer, couldn't beat you..."

His finger was already on the trigger. "It wasn't for nothing that I waited all these years."

Oliva, however, didn't care at all. "Let's celebrate our reunion, Jeff."

"Ah……"

Jeff gave a cold laugh and pulled the trigger.

boom!

Shotgun fire.

At the same time, Oliva took a half step forward with his left leg, using his thigh muscles to protect and block, while raising both arms to shield his head.

puff!

The smoke from the gunpowder instantly engulfed Oliva's entire body.

Jeff reloaded his shotgun and continued to fire bullets at the naked Oliva.

boom!boom!boom……

Jeff fired five or six rounds until the magazine was completely empty before finally stopping.

At this moment, Oliva was surrounded by gunpowder smoke.

There were more than a hundred bullet holes the size of soybeans on his arms and thighs, from which blood flowed and dripped onto the ground.

"It hit—?!"

Yamashita Kazuo's eyes widened, and he almost cried out in surprise, but he quickly realized that something was wrong.

Upon closer inspection, it turned out that the places where Oliva was bleeding were just "broken skin"!

Despite being at close range of less than three meters, the shotgun bullets did not cause any real damage; instead, they were all blocked by Oliva's muscles!

Its exaggerated muscle density makes its defense almost as strong as steel!

"Ah……"

Oliva smiled and exerted a little force throughout his body.

With a series of "plop plop plop" sounds, the steel balls embedded in his skin were ejected one by one and fell to the ground with a gurgling sound.

"This gun's caliber is too small, isn't it, Jeff?"

Oliva resumed his standing posture and said leisurely, "Shotguns can't take me down, just like they can't take down large wild beasts; they can't penetrate our 'armor'."

Jeff gave a chilling smirk. "I knew it."

"Oh?"

Oliva was somewhat pleased. "Looks like you have other tricks up your sleeve, but if it's a large-caliber rifle, I'll act before you do!"

Jeff did not respond, but instead raised his hands and drew a hidden "katana" from behind his back.

He knew, of course, that once he used a large-caliber firearm, Oliva would strike first, and he would have no chance of winning.

In that case, we might as well take advantage of the opponent's "carelessness" and create an opportunity to attack at close range.

The shotgun was just a decoy, a trap to lull Oliva into a false sense of security; the real killing move was the sharp katana!

Swish!

Jeff swung his samurai sword down, but Oliva dodged it by sidestepping.

"I knew you'd try to hide like this!"

Jeff stepped to the side, sheathed his knife, aimed at Oliva's heart, and thrust the tip of the blade out with all his might!

Swish!

The knife tip struck Oliva squarely in the left chest.

To Jeff's utter surprise, the knife tip didn't pierce through his body; instead, it remained stuck in place, penetrating less than a millimeter deep, without even drawing a few drops of blood.

"—?!"

Jeff was startled and before he could react, the blade was grabbed by Oliva and stuck there, unable to move.

"My heart is protected by a steel plate; even a samurai sword can't pierce it."

Oliva sighed. "You're so boring."

Swish!

Before he finished speaking, Oliva twisted his chest to the left, snapping the blade of the samurai sword in two.

At the same time, he threw out his right fist, which landed heavily on Jeff's chest.

boom!!

A muffled thud.

Jeff's chest dented and deformed as he was sent flying backward, crashing through an eighteenth-floor window with a "crack" before plummeting to the ground.

call out……

Jeff would surely die if he fell from such a high floor.

But in fact, everyone else at the scene could see that before he fell, Jeff had already died on the spot from a blow to the chest that flattened his chest cavity.

It was a fatal blow!

"He's still unrepentant after 24 years, he deserves it..."

Oliva withdrew his fist, turned around, picked up his clothes from the ground, put them on, and looked back at the four people behind him.

"Everyone, there's no need to be so concerned about saving face."

He shook his finger a few times and said with a kind smile, "I will send the hostages home safely. Just wait patiently, and I will resolve this quickly."

After saying that, Oliva went downstairs.

Seeing this, Yamashita Kazuo sighed helplessly.

During his time with Mr. Wang Ma, he had come to understand the general personality traits of these fighters.

How could this group of people possibly wait obediently?

...Moreover, Mr. Oliva's words only added fuel to the fire.

Turning my head, I saw that was indeed the case.