American comics: I am full of martial virtues and I love to be kind to others.

Chapter 199 is a big challenge
"Yes, but they are clearly the key." The young agent pushed up his glasses and continued, "According to the intelligence provided by our informants, these 'holy relics' seem to be directly connected to the belief system of the Holy Blood Alliance. They believe that these objects are not just symbols or heritage, but some kind of tools that can give them power, or even--"

"Supernatural powers?" Hans scoffed. "Sounds like the script for a low-budget horror movie."

"That's enough, Hans." Lin En interrupted him with a hint of impatience in his tone. "Whether these things are true or false, the Holy Blood Alliance obviously cares about them. This is what we need to focus on."

He turned and pointed to a grainy photo on the whiteboard. It was from the location Ramos had mentioned where "Marco" had been trading. The photo showed a blurry figure standing in a dimly lit warehouse, holding a metal box. While the face was unclear, the symbol on the box was crystal clear—a dagger-shaped symbol surrounded by drops of blood.

"Marco could be our breakthrough point," Lynn said, his tone calm yet full of authority, "but we all know that the Holy Blood Alliance already knows we are investigating them. Tonight's attack is the best proof of that."

"Speaking of that mutant," Hans raised his head and turned his gaze to Lynn, "Do you really think he was remotely controlled? This doesn't sound like the style of the Holy Blood Alliance. Don't they prefer traditional knives and bloody rituals?"

"Their methods are changing." Lynn's voice was low. "They are becoming more sophisticated and more dangerous. The technology to control that mutant is not something that ordinary gangs can get. This means-"

"They're working with a larger organization," another older agent said, frowning. "Perhaps a tech crime ring, or some shadowy agency with government backing."

"That's right." Lin En nodded. "Our current intelligence isn't enough to prove this, but what's certain is that the Holy Blood Alliance is no longer a simple underground gang. Their actions are beginning to show some strategic nature—and this time, their goal is clearly more important than ever before."

"The question is, what are they looking for?" Hans shrugged. "A talisman that can summon demons? Or some kind of antique that can turn them into superhumans?"

"Don't forget, their belief system is mixed with a lot of twisted religious elements." The young agent flipped open his notebook. "The Holy Blood Alliance believes they are the 'Chosen Ones,' and they've been pursuing an ancient heritage... something that can allow them to 'transcend mortals.' It could be a legendary artifact, or some kind of technological creation."

"If true," Hans tutted, "it sounds like a superhero movie villain's plan."

Lynn ignored Hans's ridicule and turned to an agent in charge of technical analysis. "What about that mutant? Has the body been sent for analysis?"

"Yes, it's been sent to the lab." The agent nodded, seeming a little hesitant. "However, preliminary reports indicate that his body isn't a complete mutant, but more like a product of biochemical modification. We've discovered implanted metal organs and neural interfaces... These things may be the key to his control."

Lin En's expression shifted slightly. Although he didn't say it explicitly, it was clear that this news had deepened his worries. "This technology can't possibly be obtained by a street gang," he said in a low voice. "We need to find out who is behind this and supporting the Holy Blood Alliance."

"Maybe it's some mad scientist," Hans said casually. "There are always some crazy people who like to do these human experiments."

"Whoever they are," Lynn turned around and tapped his fingers on the whiteboard, "they are now our number one target. And our most urgent task is to find 'Marco'. He is the only lead we have at this stage."

"Do we have any information on his whereabouts?" the older agent asked.

"Not yet." Lynn shook his head. "However, according to the information we currently have, the Holy Blood Alliance has recently been active in some abandoned buildings in Manhattan's West Side. That might be where Marco is hiding."

"Abandoned buildings, gangs, biochemically modified people..." Hans rubbed his temples, "This sounds like a nightmare."

"Welcome to reality," Lin En said coldly. "I need you to give it your all. Divide into two groups. One group will continue investigating the Holy Blood Alliance's funding flows and the backers behind them, while the other will lock down the action point in Manhattan's West Side. Don't alert the enemy, but don't miss any clues."

"Understood." The other agents nodded and began to organize the information.

Hans stood up and picked up his coat, "Well, Lynn, it looks like we're going to be out on the streets again."

"Be careful this time," Lin En whispered, a hint of deep foreboding in his eyes. "The Holy Blood Alliance has realized that we are tracking them. It will only be more dangerous from now on."

Hans patted Lynn's shoulder and grinned, "Dangerous? Man, that's the fun of this job."

Lin En didn't respond. He simply picked up his weapons and equipment, turned around, and walked out of the meeting room. His steps were steady, but each one felt heavy, as if he was carrying an invisible burden.

The chilly midnight breeze carried a hint of dampness as Lin En drove onto a quiet Brooklyn street. The houses along the roadside were neat but old, their doorstep lights dim like fireflies, exuding a peaceful atmosphere. For Lin En, this place was a rare haven. He parked in the familiar driveway, exhaled deeply, and stroked the steering wheel with his fingers, hesitant to get out.

He rubbed his brow, feeling a wave of fatigue. The day's chases, gunfights, and enigmatic investigations weighed like a heavy rock on his shoulders, while the shadow of the Holy Blood Alliance was a lingering nightmare. He needed a moment to breathe. And he knew that here, he could at least find a sense of home.

He pushed open the car door and stepped out, a familiar clang of metal clattering beside him. He looked up at the yard. Light streamed from the open garage, casting a warm yellow glow over an old, antique car. The hood was open, revealing a thin, yet powerful figure hunched over, working under the car with tools in hand.

"George," Lynn called out, a faint smile playing on his lips. He walked into the garage and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. "It's so late, and you're still messing with this old car?"

George Stacy looked up, his wrinkled face looking especially warm under the light. His white hair was a little messy from the grease, and his wire-framed glasses had slipped down a little from sweat. He glanced at Lynn and grinned. "Why are you back, kid? Aren't you supposed to be working all night today?"

"You need a break every now and then, don't you?" Lynn walked over to the car and glanced at the engine. "Does this thing still work? Or do you just like the sound of metal colliding?"

George shook his head and knocked the wrench on the hood, making a crisp sound. "It's more powerful than you think. This was your favorite car when you were a kid. Don't tell me you've forgotten it."

Lynn squinted at the car, memories slowly emerging. This Ford sedan had been George's favorite from years ago, the only luxury Lynn could enjoy as a child. He remembered George driving him around the streets of Brooklyn, a time when the world was less complicated than it is today.

"I thought it should have been scrapped long ago." Lynn muttered, his eyes scanning the car body.

"Don't underestimate it," George straightened up and shook off the oil on his hands. "It's tougher than you and me. Just like us, no matter how many injuries it suffers, it can always be repaired."

Lin En smiled softly and said nothing more. Instead, he picked up a clean rag and reached out to wipe the oil stains around the engine. George glanced at him, but did not stop him. Instead, he handed him the wrench and said, "Since you have nothing to do, come and help the old man."

"Okay, but don't expect me to fix it faster than you." Lynn took the wrench, bent down and started tinkering with the engine.

The atmosphere in the garage was peaceful and warm, with only the clatter of tools echoing in the air. Lynn enjoyed this quietness; it temporarily made him forget the gunfire and the smell of blood outside. George took his time guiding Lynn through the repairs, their conversation simple and casual.

"You look tired." George suddenly spoke, his voice low but with a hint of concern.

Lynn stopped what she was doing and looked up at George, "It's been a busy week."

"So busy that you're worried?" George frowned, took off his glasses and wiped them. "I know you, Lynn. Ever since you first tried to lie when you were ten, I've known you're not good at hiding your emotions."

Lynn didn't answer immediately. Instead, he lowered his head and pretended to continue tinkering with the engine. He didn't know how to explain recent events, especially the Holy Blood Alliance. Although George had once been a renowned captain in the police department, this situation was far more complicated than any ordinary case. Lynn wasn't sure George could fully understand.

"This case is very difficult," he finally said, his voice so low that it seemed like he was talking to himself. "And, it's more... dangerous than usual."

George stopped what he was doing and looked at Lynn quietly. There was no urgency in his eyes, only patience. He knew Lynn needed time. "Danger?" George said slowly, his tone gentle. "Kid, I've been a police officer for thirty years, and I've heard the word 'danger' more often than you've eaten. What kind of danger could make a normally calm guy like you feel uneasy?"

Lin En was silent for a moment, and finally sighed, "Have you heard of the Holy Blood Alliance?"

George frowned, put the wrench down, and rested his hands on the hood. "Of course I've heard of it. That crazy underground organization likes to use blood sacrifices and intimidation to promote their 'holy mission'. So, is your case related to them?"

"They're not just an ordinary criminal organization." Lynn straightened up and looked George in the eye. "They're looking for something, something that could make them more dangerous. Furthermore, they seem to have support from a higher level—some technology or resources that ordinary gangs can't access."

George's expression grew serious, and he muttered under his breath, "This sounds like a more troublesome case than any before."

"Yes." Lynn nodded. "We've touched a nerve with them. Last night, they sent a mutant to attack Hans and me. That thing... was no ordinary human."

George's expression darkened. He removed his gloves, crossed his arms, and fell into deep thought. After a few seconds, he raised his head and said, "Lynn, this is beyond the scope of ordinary cases. You need more resources and support. You and a few agents alone can't deal with this kind of organization."

"I know." Lynn's voice was a little tired, "But headquarters doesn't think we have enough evidence right now. Besides, even if we did, I'm not sure I can trust everyone."

After hearing this, George's face showed a complicated expression. He was silent for a few seconds, then walked over to Lin En and patted him on the shoulder. "Listen, kid, no matter what happens, remember one thing—don't let your intuition lead you astray. I've watched you grow up. I know you have the ability and judgment, but sometimes, don't be too stubborn."

Lynn looked up and smiled for the first time all day. "Your words sound like advice for me to be obedient."

"Maybe." George shrugged, a hint of ridicule on his lips. "But it would be even better if you could come back alive and listen to my long-winded talk."

Lynn laughed, but said nothing more. He lowered his head and continued to tinker with the engine, while George continued to repair the body. The two stood side by side beside the car, their silence revealing an inexplicable tacit understanding.

The morning sun filtered through the haze onto the Brooklyn streets. Lynn leaned against the kitchen counter, a freshly brewed cup of coffee in his hand, his eyes fixed on the wall clock. The hands slowly ticked towards eight. His phone lay quietly on the table, the screen dim, no missed calls or messages showing.

"Damn it." He cursed under his breath, put the coffee cup aside, picked up his cell phone and dialed Hans' number.

The phone rang a few times before it was connected. Hans' voice came from the other end, still with obvious fatigue: "Don't tell me you won't let me go even in the morning, Lin En."

"Any news?" Lin En went straight to the point.

"No." Hans sighed. "Our people have been searching the West District all night and haven't found a single person. The Holy Blood Alliance is more cunning than we thought. They won't show up easily."

Lin En was silent for a few seconds, frowning slightly, "What about the lab? Are the mutant analysis results out yet?"

"Not yet." Hans also sounded a little frustrated. "But they said that the technology behind that metal implant is very complex and definitely not something that can be obtained through ordinary channels. It might involve some private labs or even a military project."

Lin En gripped his phone tightly, a flicker of annoyance running through his heart. The shadow of the Holy Blood Alliance hung like a thick fog over the city; he could see it, but he couldn't grasp it.

"Alright." Lin En finally sighed, "Keep watching. Let me know if there's any progress."

"Understood." Hans hung up the phone.

Lin En put down his phone, his fingers tapping lightly on the counter. He knew waiting was the most exhausting part of the investigation, but every moment of waiting only intensified his intuition—the Holy Blood Alliance must be planning something drastic and unspeakable. And at this moment, time felt like an enemy to them.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Looking back, he saw Gwen hurriedly running down the stairs, with a backpack slung over her shoulders and a folder of sheet music in her hand.

"Lynn, can you take me to school?" She looked up at him, a hint of urgency in her voice. "I don't want to be late. We have a rehearsal today, and the teacher said we'll lose points if we're late!"

"Rehearsal?" Lin En raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you say you didn't like these performances?"

"Yes," Gwen whispered sheepishly, biting her lip. "But this time it's about the band, not some boring chorus. I'm playing the main melody, Lynn, the main melody! Do you know what that means?"

Looking at her slightly proud expression, Lin En couldn't help but smile, "Okay, main theme. I understand. I'll take you there."

"Thanks!" Gwen turned and rushed to the door with a relaxed look on her face, then turned back and shouted, "Hurry up! I don't want to be stared at by the whole band."

Lynn grabbed her coat and car keys and followed her out.

As their car drove through the streets of Brooklyn, Lynn remained silent, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. His mind was still lingering on the investigation of the Holy Blood Alliance, desperately trying to piece together the fragmented clues into a complete picture.

"Lynn, why are you so quiet today?" Gwen, sitting in the passenger seat, glanced sideways at him. "Is there something wrong with your work?"

"No." Lin En replied casually, his eyes still fixed on the front.

"You lied." Gwen exposed him directly, her tone light. "Every time you lie, you subconsciously grit your teeth. I can see it."

Lin En smiled helplessly, "Can't I have a little private space?"

"No." Gwen gave a sly smile, "You're my brother, tell me, what happened?"

Lynn glanced at her and finally sighed, "It's nothing serious, just that the recent case is a bit tricky. Don't worry, it will be fine."

"Then why do you look like the world is weighing on your shoulders?" Gwen frowned, clearly unconvinced.

Lin En hesitated for a moment, and finally decided to change the subject, "You should tell me about your performance. What's the song today?"

Gwen stared at him for a few seconds, as if about to press the issue, but finally gave in. "Well, if you don't want to tell me...it's Tchaikovsky's Andante Cantabile. I'm responsible for the main melody, and the whole orchestra has to follow my rhythm. It's a big challenge."

"That sounds great." Lynn nodded. "But that also means if something goes wrong, the whole band will blame you, right?"

(End of this chapter)