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

He thought of Deputy Director Morrison, his superior who had always supported him and given him this opportunity to go undercover. Morrison believed he could complete the mission, believed he could dismantle the Brotherhood. But now, he was hiding in the sewers, like a hunted rat.

He thought of Erin Shaw. That mysterious mutant woman who warned him, "The people around you may be far more complicated than you think." Was her warning sincere, or did she have ulterior motives? Was she friend or foe?

Too many questions, too few answers.

Lynn sighed and opened his eyes.

He checked his phone—5:47 PM. It would be completely dark in about two more hours.

He decided to wait a little longer.

Just then, he heard a strange sound.

It wasn't the squeaking of mice, nor the sound of flowing water, but the sound of footsteps.

The footsteps were very light, but they could be heard clearly in the quiet sewer.

Someone is approaching.

Lynn immediately turned off his phone's flashlight and shrank into the shadows of a corner. His hand reached for his waist—but there was nothing there; he hadn't had time to take his gun with him when he ran away.

The footsteps grew closer.

Then, a beam of light shone from the corner, illuminating a section of the pipe.

“I know you’re here, Agent Ashford.”

It was a woman's voice. Cold, calm, and tinged with a hint of mockery.

Li Xue.

Lynn's heart sank.

He didn't know how she found him. Maybe it was through the last signal from the tracker, or maybe through some other means. But none of that mattered anymore; what mattered was that she had found him.

“Come out,” Li Xue’s voice continued, “Don’t make me bother looking for you. You should know I’m not a patient person.”

Lynn didn't move. He held his breath in the darkness, hoping she was just bluffing.

“Detective Ashford,” Li Xue’s tone turned impatient, “I’m giving you ten seconds. If you don’t come out, I’ll have my friends search every nook and cranny of this sewer. How long do you think you can hide?”

Friends. This means she didn't come alone.

Lynn quickly assessed the situation. If he continued to hide, Li Xue's men would find him sooner or later. In this confined space, he had no room to escape. But if he went out, he would be walking into a trap.

Both options are dead ends.

unless
Lynn's gaze fell on a thick metal pipe beside him. The pipe was rusty and looked like it had been abandoned for a long time. One end of the pipe was connected to the wall, and the other end was suspended in the air, just within his reach.

He moved silently to the side of the pipe and grabbed the cold metal with both hands.

“Five seconds,” Li Xue’s voice rang out, “Four seconds, three seconds—”

Lynn used all his strength to rip the pipe off the wall. The rusty metal let out a piercing scream, and then the entire pipe, along with a large piece of plaster, crashed down.

A tremendous noise echoed through the sewers, and dust and gravel flew everywhere.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Lynn rushed off in the opposite direction.

"Damn it! Grab him!" Li Xue's shout came from behind.

Lynn ran wildly through the darkness, groping his way purely on instinct. He crashed into walls, stepped into sewage, fell once, but got up and kept running. The footsteps and shouts behind him grew closer, and the beams of flashlights flickered behind him like a pack of demons chasing their prey.

He turned one corner, then another. A fork in the road appeared ahead, and he randomly chose the left path.

The passage was narrower than before, and he almost had to stoop to pass through. But this was a good thing—it would also restrict the pursuers' movements.

He continued forward, the pipe growing narrower and the air thinner.

Finally, he saw a glimmer of light ahead.

It was a manhole cover leading to the ground, and sunlight shone through the small holes in the cover, making it particularly dazzling in the darkness.

Lynn rushed to the manhole cover and pushed aside the heavy metal disc. The cover made a screeching sound before he pushed it open a crack.

He squeezed his way out.

Outside was a secluded alley, lined with dilapidated warehouses and abandoned vehicles piled with garbage. The sunlight was so bright he could barely open his eyes, and the air was thick with the smell of industrial fumes and rotting trash.

But compared to the sewers, this place is paradise.

Lynn quickly pushed the manhole cover back into place, then looked around, searching for a way to escape.

He didn't know where he was, but he was probably far from Chinatown. He needed to keep moving and create as much distance as possible before Li Xue's people caught up.

He ran along the alley for a while, then disappeared into an abandoned warehouse. The warehouse was filled with rusty machines and dilapidated wooden crates, dust floated in the air, and sunlight streamed in through broken windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor.

Lynn found a corner to squat down and forced herself to calm down.

He needs to think about what to do next.

Li Xue found him, which meant her brothers wouldn't give up easily. They would continue tracking him until they caught or killed him.

He can't stay in one place for too long. He needs to keep moving so that his pursuers can't pinpoint his location.

But he also needed rest. He had been running for several hours straight and was severely exhausted. If he didn't rest, he would eventually collapse on the road.

Lynn decided to hide in the warehouse until nightfall before continuing his operation.

He found a relatively clean corner, built a makeshift shelter out of a few broken planks, and lay down with his eyes closed. Although his body was extremely exhausted, his mind couldn't stop working.

Various thoughts raced through his mind—about the fraternity, about Thomas Harrison, about how to get back to New York, about Kevin's safety.
He considered a possibility.

If he could contact Morrison and tell him his situation, perhaps Morrison could arrange for some reliable people to pick him up. But the problem is, he can't use any conventional means of communication—cell phone, email, any channel that could be tapped.

Perhaps he could find a public phone booth and make a call to Morrison's private number with a coin. This method would be difficult to trace, and Morrison's private number should be secure—at least he hoped so.

But public phone booths were becoming increasingly rare, especially in this remote industrial area. He needed to find one without being spotted by the Brotherhood.

This will be a huge adventure.

Lynn sighed, putting those thoughts aside for the time being. The most important thing now was to rest and recover his strength. He could deal with everything else after dark.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax his body.

The warehouse was quiet, save for the occasional squeak of mice and the distant roar of factory machinery. Sunlight streamed slowly through the windows, casting streaks of light on the floor before gradually disappearing.

Time passed by, second by second.

When Lynn opened his eyes again, it was completely dark outside.

He checked his phone—8:23 PM. The battery was down to 29%.

The action is gone.

Lynn stood up and stretched his stiff limbs. He was still tired, but at least he felt much better than in the afternoon.

He cautiously stepped out of the warehouse, observing his surroundings.

Night had completely fallen, and the industrial area was pitch black, with only the occasional flickering streetlights in the distance casting a faint glow. The air was thick with industrial fumes and the damp chill characteristic of the night, and the occasional meow of a stray cat could be heard from afar.

Lynn walked along the path, trying to avoid the lighted areas. He didn't know where he was going; he was just instinctively moving away from the city center.

After walking for about half an hour, he arrived at an even more desolate area.

This is the southern edge of San Francisco, where factories and warehouses are gradually being replaced by open spaces and abandoned buildings. The roads are potholed and lined with tall weeds and withered shrubs. In the distance, there are some dilapidated railway tracks with a few rusty, abandoned carriages parked on them.

Lynn spotted a possible hiding place—a large, abandoned drainage pipe, half-buried underground, its opening partially obscured by weeds and pebbles.

He walked over and crouched down to examine it. The pipe was about 1.5 meters in diameter, dry inside, and without any standing water. There was a smell of dust and rust in the air, but it smelled much better than the sewers.

Lynn crawled into the pipe and found a relatively comfortable spot to sit down.

It's very safe here. The pipes are well-hidden; the entrance is almost invisible from the outside. Even if the Brotherhood sends people to search, it will be very difficult to find this place.

He can stay here overnight and figure out how to leave tomorrow.

Lynn leaned against the inner wall of the pipe and began to organize her thoughts.

He needed a plan. A detailed, workable plan that would allow him to return safely to New York.

First, he needed money. He only had a little over two hundred dollars in his wallet, not enough to support a trip across the United States. He needed to find a way to get more money, but he couldn't use bank cards or any payment methods that could be tracked.

Secondly, he needs a new identity. His identity as "Jack Brian" has been exposed, and he can no longer use those documents. He needs to find a way to obtain a new set of fake documents, or a way to travel without proof of identity.

Third, he needed to avoid the Brotherhood's sphere of influence. San Francisco was their stronghold, and they also had members in Los Angeles. His best option was to head east, leaving California and heading into Nevada or Arizona. In those places, the Brotherhood's influence should be much smaller.

Fourth, and most importantly—he cannot trust anyone.

He had to keep this in mind at all times. The Brotherhood's influence had infiltrated every corner of society, and he didn't know who was friend and who was foe. Those seemingly innocent passersby, those helpful strangers—they could all be spies for the Brotherhood.

Even the police and the FBI cannot be trusted.

At five o'clock in the morning, Lynn woke up from a light sleep.

The sky outside the pipeline was just beginning to lighten, and the distant factory chimneys appeared as blurry outlines in the morning light. The air was damp with dew and smelled of wild grass, and occasionally a few early birds would call out on the bare branches, their voices clear and lonely.

Lynn stretched his stiff neck and shoulders, feeling his bones creaking all over. His back ached from sleeping in the concrete pipe all night, and his left leg was numb from being curled up. But at least he was alive, which was the best-case scenario.

He climbed out of the pipe and carefully observed his surroundings.

The wasteland was silent, save for the rustling of the wind through the wild grass. In the distance, abandoned railway tracks gleamed dimly in the morning light, a few rusty carriages sitting quietly like giant beasts forgotten by time. Further away, the city's outline appeared and disappeared in the thin mist, the glass curtain walls of skyscrapers reflecting the light of the rising sun.

Lynn took a deep breath and began to plan today's actions.

The first thing he needed to do was change his clothes. Yesterday he was wearing a dark suit—Jack Bryan's standard attire as a member of the Sands Casino management. But now, the suit was wrinkled, stained with sewer grime and rust, and looked utterly disheveled. More importantly, wearing a suit in this industrial area was too conspicuous and would easily attract attention.

He needed a more ordinary set of clothes so he could blend into the crowd and go unnoticed.

Lynn started walking towards the industrial area. He remembered seeing several construction sites when he passed by last night. Construction sites usually had temporary dormitories and changing rooms for workers; perhaps he could find something useful there.

After walking for about twenty minutes, he arrived at the edge of a large construction site.

This is a warehouse center under construction. The massive steel frame structure has been erected, but the exterior walls and interior decoration are not yet finished. The construction site is surrounded by barbed wire, and there is a makeshift gate at the entrance, but no one is on duty at this time. Several excavators and cranes stand silently on the site, like sleeping steel giants.

Lynn walked around the barbed wire fence and found a broken section. He crouched down and crawled through the gap.

The construction site was much larger than he had imagined. In addition to the main building, there were several rows of temporary prefabricated houses—presumably the workers' dormitories and rest areas. Lynn walked towards them silently, trying to keep his footsteps on the soft soil as quietly as possible.

The door to the prefabricated house wasn't locked. Lynn gently pushed one open and found a makeshift changing room inside. Several metal wardrobes hung on the wall, and a few pairs of mud-covered work boots were scattered on the floor. In the corner, some hard hats and reflective vests were piled up. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and tobacco, but Lynn didn't care about that at the moment.

He quickly rummaged through the things in the wardrobe.

The first wardrobe contained only a worn-out jacket, too small to fit. The second wardrobe contained a pair of jeans and a gray work shirt, which seemed to fit. The third wardrobe contained a baseball cap and a pair of work boots that looked reasonably clean. (End of Chapter)