American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 252 Slade Wilson, John Lynch, and the Sixth Group.

The dark Gotham Bay was transformed into a hellish landscape by the ravages of the storm.

The gale whipped up towering waves several meters high, which rolled down like layers of dark mountains, and the rain poured down like a burst dam, violently lashing everything struggling on the sea surface.

In this apocalyptic scene, a black motorboat equipped with an external engine struggles, crashes, and leaps between the peaks and valleys of the waves like a fearless flying fish.

The man at the helm was John Lynch.

The current commander of the sixth group of the Sky Eye Society, and the founder of the future 'seventh squad'.

His face was solemn, his eyes gleaming with a pale blue light. Powerful telekinesis expanded from him, forming an invisible shield that barely deflected the deadly waves crashing against the boat.

At the same time, he was multitasking, manipulating the seawater to create a reverse thrust, allowing the small boat to maintain amazing speed and relative stability in such treacherous sea conditions.

After all, behind them
The shadow of death is relentlessly pursuing us.

An armed yacht, far larger than theirs, came crashing through the waves like a steel behemoth.

The beams of searchlights, like the gaze of death, swept across the waves, while machine gun bullets occasionally pierced the rain, splashing water everywhere.

"Cole! Put away those damn dual pistols!"

John Lynch roared without turning his head, his voice distorted by the wind and waves, "Now! Use your damned telekinesis, just like mine, to reinforce the ship's structure! We're falling apart!"

Cole Marcus, sitting in the back seat, spat and reluctantly put the two oddly shaped pistols back into their holsters, then placed his hands on the violently shaking boat.

Pale blue telekinetic light surged from his palm, quickly seeping into every seam and vulnerable part of the motorboat, temporarily stabilizing this escape vehicle that could disintegrate at any moment.

"Why doesn't Wilson use that?!" Cole complained as he unleashed his full telekinetic power, glancing at the rock-solid figure on the bow of the submarine. "Can his twin swords even stop bullets?!"

"Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!"

As if in response to his questioning—

Several muffled thuds, characteristic of sniper rifles, came from the yacht behind.

Almost at the same instant, Wilson, who was standing behind, moved.

He didn't even turn around completely; his wrists simply flicked at a speed too fast for the naked eye to detect, and two high-strength alloy blades drew cold, silver arcs in the darkness.

"Qiang! Qiang! Qiang!"

Sparks flew at the point where the blade collided with the special bullet. Those sniper bullets, capable of tearing through armor, were precisely cleaved in two mid-air and fell helplessly into the surging waves.

The entire movement was extremely simple and incredibly efficient!
Through the rain, the single eye calmly surveyed the threats behind him, as if his miraculous parry was nothing more than brushing away the dust from his shoulder.

"Well done, Wilson!"

John Lynch couldn't help but exclaim, "Your money for that brain development project finally paid off!"

Brain development refers to Wilson's extraordinary reaction speed, combat instincts, and physical coordination, which he gained through genetic enhancement and brutal training.

Wilson sheathed his sword and stood there.

He surveyed the roaring ocean and the lightning-streaked sky with indifference, yet his one remaining eye showed no fear, but rather a strange light that seemed almost ecstatic.

“I love adventure, John Fairchild.”

"What nonsense are you spouting?! Slade Wilson!" Kurt Lance, fully armed and gripping the railing for balance, couldn't help but scoff. As the squad's tactical expert and weapons master, he naturally predicted the enemy's next attack. "Get your dual swords ready for the next wave! They'll definitely fire again!"

Wilson remained calm, and even adjusted his posture.

"Don't rush, Lance."

"Let the bullets..."

"...fly a little longer."

He paused deliberately, seemingly enjoying the sudden tension among his companions.

"fly****!"

While struggling to maintain the telekinetic reinforcement of the hull, Cole couldn't help but yell at Wilson's retreating back, "How did I end up in a squad with a lunatic like you?! Have all the guys from the Marine Corps had their brains shot with training rounds?!"

However, no sooner had he finished speaking than Fairchild, who was using precise bursts of fire to suppress the enemy's guns on the yacht behind him, became unhappy.

The former Ranger frowned, his voice carrying through the wind and rain, tinged with obvious displeasure:
“Cole! Watch your language! That’s not how you make sweeping generalizations!” He changed a magazine smoothly without pausing. “If it weren’t for the huge favor Wilson and I owed John back in that godforsaken place in Paraguay, do you think you’d be qualified to work with the two of us?”

Cole was speechless, his face turning pale. He opened his mouth, but found himself unable to refute.

Fairchild's words, though harsh, were a stark reflection of reality.

Given his qualifications and abilities, under normal circumstances, he was indeed not qualified to fight alongside military legends of Wilson and Fairchild's caliber.

Damn mission!
Cole cursed inwardly as rain and salty seawater slapped against his face.

Their objective was originally very clear.
Infiltrate that hellhole—Arkham Asylum.

It wasn't a regular area, but rather those secret research layers underground, which even official records barely mention.

Ms. Amanda's intention was to meet an inside informant, codenamed 'The Messenger,' and ensure he carried crucial information.
The contents, which were supposedly stored on a black USB drive, were safely evacuated.

But everything went wrong.

The messenger died en route before reaching the designated rendezvous point, and the USB drive disappeared without a trace.

Their team was forced to change their plans and attempt to infiltrate Arkham directly to see if they could find backup data or uncover the truth.

Arkham…

Just thinking about that name sent a chill down Cole's spine.

That place was no ordinary mental hospital; it was more like a cursed land built on a rift in the dimension of reality, a den of demons that sheltered and bred all sorts of things that could not be explained by common sense.

A chilling and distorted atmosphere pervaded the entire space. The walls seemed to breathe, and inhuman howls and whispers echoed from the depths of the corridor. Even the air itself carried a stench of decay and despair.

In short, that's no place for a human to live!

Even now, Cole still gets chills when he thinks about it.

He was certain that if it weren't for Wilson and Fairchild, two men of unwavering resolve, in the team...
One fought his way out of a desperate situation with superhuman combat instincts and swordsmanship, while the other stabilized the situation with an iron will and precise tactical command.

Their so-called 'Sixth Group' has probably already suffered a mental breakdown and remained trapped in the bottomless underground labyrinth of Arkham.

It's a miracle that they managed to escape alive and bring out some fragmented but crucial paper records.

"coming."

Just as Cole's thoughts were churning
Wilson, who had been silently watching behind him, suddenly narrowed his single eye.

Almost at the same moment he finished speaking.

On the yacht behind, several hot muzzle flashes reappeared!

Wilson moved, and his twin swords were drawn once more.

A web of death is woven in the rain.

"Clang clang clang clang—!"

A denser burst of sparks erupted, and all the bullets aimed at their small boat, regardless of their angle, were precisely intercepted and shattered by him alone with his sword!
"Speed ​​up, Lynch!"

Wilson's blade flashed, his cold command piercing through the symphony of wind and gunfire: "Their sniper is reloading. Take advantage of this gap; there's a fire vacuum at nine o'clock!"

Upon hearing this, John Lynch did not hesitate at all.

With telekinesis fully activated, the motorboat roared under its own weight and made a dangerous, sharp turn to the right, using the waves and the brief blind spot to create a small distance between itself and the pursuers.

Watching Wilson's almost prophetic fighting performance, Cole had to admit once again that being teammates with such a monster, while constantly teetering on the brink of a mental breakdown, was...

They can indeed live longer.

so.
"Wilson!"

A rough, hoarse voice boomed out from the side, perfectly voicing Cole's thoughts: "So why the hell did you have to stab the knife in and then pull it out?! Couldn't you just keep hacking away?!"

The one who spoke was Dean Higgins.

The 'animal warriors' that came from the Luther Group's collaboration with the military.

He was half-bent over, his metal claws extending from his knuckles, gripping the deck firmly to stabilize himself, his face covered in rain and bewilderment at Wilson's fighting style.

Cole immediately gave Dean a look of 'I agree'.

Although he harbored a slight sense of superiority and disdain for these 'non-pure-blooded' superhuman warriors created through gene mixing technology, stemming from his military background, he had to admit that Dean's question hit the nail on the head.

Wilson's fluid and precise knife-stab-and-draw-the-knife movements, while elegant and precise, did indeed waste a fraction of a second.
In a battlefield where every second counts, this seems excessive...

That's so flashy.

Wilson didn't even turn his head when he heard this.

He merely glanced briefly at Dean's gleaming metal claws with the corner of his single eye, his gaze lingering on the weapon for a barely perceptible moment, before speaking calmly and matter-of-factly:

"Because he's handsome."

"."

There was a moment of silence on the motorboat.

Everyone was speechless at those three words, even Lynch and Cole, who were fully focused on controlling the ship and using telekinesis, froze for a moment.
"Whoosh—!!!" This eerie silence did not last long.

Accompanied by a sharp, piercing sound, unlike any ordinary bullet whistling through the air, and unlike any gunshot before it, it suddenly erupted from behind the pursuing troops.
Cole felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end; his mental senses caught the thing faster than his eyesight.

A metal cylinder trailing a fiery orange-red tail of flames was seen breaking through the waves at an astonishing speed!

His face was deathly pale, and he roared almost incoherently:
"Where the hell did this missile come from?!"

This is no longer at the level of a conventional armed conflict!
The other side actually used such heavy firepower in order to silence them, or rather, for the little bit of stuff they brought out of Arkham!
Even Wilson's body sank slightly.
He held his twin swords horizontally in front of him, entering an unprecedentedly solemn state of preparation for battle.

Even he wouldn't dare say he could directly confront a missile head-on.

John Lynch's eyes widened in fury, and his telekinetic powers surged forth in an attempt to deflect the missile's trajectory, but the powerful kinetic energy and guidance system rendered his efforts futile.

Fairchild also ceased his futile firing, his lips moving as he uttered a desperate syllable: "It's over."

"boom--!!!"

A loud bang, not from a missile impact, but from a violent explosion in mid-air, suddenly rang out!

The blazing fireball suddenly expanded in the air, tearing through the rain curtain, and the brief burst of light even illuminated the churning black sea below.

The shockwave carried debris in all directions.

Everyone looked up in astonishment, their gazes suddenly falling on Cole.
He had somehow pulled out those two oddly shaped pistols again, with wisps of smoke still rising from their muzzles.

His lips trembled slightly, as if he had exhausted all his strength.

"Luck...luck..."

"I...I think I hit its propulsion system or fuse..." Cole murmured, his voice trembling with exhaustion from the ordeal.

"Well done, Cole!"

John Lynch was almost moved to tears. His powerful telekinesis became chaotic due to the intense emotional fluctuations. "Good lad! Next time the lab has new brain development slots, I'll recommend you first! I guarantee you'll become even stronger than you are now!"

Cole had just narrowly escaped death, and upon hearing this, he nearly choked.

"Is this the time to paint me with these unattainable promises?! Look over there!" He holstered his dual pistols and pointed to the massive yacht that, despite losing its missiles, was still closing in at full speed. "John! Where the hell are your reinforcements? Didn't you say they'd be here soon?"

Cole's words came to an abrupt halt.

His eyes were wide open, and his mouth remained half-open.

It was as if I were witnessing the most incredible sight in the world.

Not just him, but everyone on the motorboat
John Lynch, Fairward, Dean, and even Wilson, who remained calm throughout.
Everyone froze in place, staring blankly in the same direction.

At the edge of their line of sight, the large armed yacht that was speeding towards them with full force and menacing momentum underwent an inexplicable change.

It...it actually...left the surface of the sea!
It wasn't capsized by the giant waves, but rather the entire ship slowly... rose upwards in a way that defies the laws of physics!
The hull of the ship broke free of the seawater, creating a waterfall-like curtain of water in the storm.

That steel structure, weighing hundreds of tons, was like a light toy, scooped up from the raging ocean by an invisible giant hand!

And between the bottom of the raised yacht and the sea surface.
A tall, imposing figure wearing a red and blue battle suit with a prominent "S" logo on the chest.
He lifted that enormous thing firmly with just one hand!

Suspended in mid-air, a red cloak fluttered behind him.

He seemed to emanate an invisible force field, preventing even rainwater from getting close.

yes.
It's the one that frequently appears in the Daily Planet.
Superman!

Clark frowned slightly, glancing down at the small motorboat bobbing in the waves below, and the few people on board who were dumbfounded, as if petrified.

He had just finished dealing with the riots caused by the power outage in the Metropolitan area and was about to take some time to contact the farm to ask about Dior's outrageous "bringing a woman home for the night" story.

Mr. Black then directed him here.
Coincidentally, his super hearing also detected the imminent crisis on the sea and the roar of missiles, so he came ahead of time.
Despite rushing, tragedy almost occurred.
Fortunately, the gunman was lucky.

"..."

Clark sighed. Sometimes he really wished he could use clones like Mr. Ron.

Addressing the few survivors below who didn't look like ordinary people, Clark said in a deep voice:

"Leave this to me. You...get out of here as soon as possible."

Having said that, he ignored what was below and turned his gaze to the still-stirring yacht in his hands, pondering how to deal with this troublesome behemoth—should he throw it far away, or...
There was complete silence on the motorboat.

After several seconds, Cole swallowed hard and uttered two dry words:
"Holyshit"

The exclamation seemed to awaken John Lynch, who suppressed the turmoil in his heart and pushed the throttle of the motorboat to the floor.

He roared the engine, taking advantage of the precious moment when Clark had control of the pursuers.

They fled frantically toward the metropolis.

Until that divine silhouette, suspended between heaven and earth, was rapidly pulled away, shrinking into a faint red dot in the field of vision.

It has been confirmed that it is temporarily safe.

The people on the boat then started talking amongst themselves in the storm.

"Holy crap! Was that... Superman from the Daily Planet?!" Cole exclaimed first, his face still showing disbelief and excitement. "John, what kind of divine assistance did you summon?! That's incredible! He lifted the ship up!"

Fairchild was relatively calmer, and while inspecting the equipment, he analyzed the situation:

"He doesn't seem to be one of the Justice Society's veteran heroes. Is he a superhero secretly trained by our Sky Eye Society? This kind of power... is unheard of."

Lance shook the seawater off himself and said in a muffled voice, "Who cares which side they're on? Anyone who can save my life is a good helper. This strength is formidable."

“Indeed.” Even the usually silent Wilson spoke up, his single eye flashing with assessment: “He seems to be an incredible phenomenon.”

The crowd was abuzz with discussion, some relieved to have survived, others filled with awe and curiosity about that absolute power.

However, amidst the noise, they gradually noticed something amiss.

John Lynch, the absolute core of the team, was like a silent statue from beginning to end.

"Boss? What's wrong?" Cole came over, his boisterous manner subdued, and asked with concern, "Still thinking about the Black Diamond? Don't take it to heart. It's a miracle we even made it out of that hellhole alive."

“Yes, Lynch,” Fairchild chimed in, “the responsibility for the mission’s failure doesn’t lie with you; nobody could have predicted such a scenario.”

Pulled from his deep thoughts by their words, Lin Qi took a deep breath of the damp, cold air, forced a smile, and mumbled, "Nothing. I was just thinking about how to report back to Ms. Amanda."

The team members exchanged a glance, assuming he was blaming himself for the mission's failure, so they wisely stopped asking and let him process the pressure on his own.

But only Lin Qi himself knew that his tense nerves were not because of the mission.

The shocking scene from just moments ago kept replaying in his mind like a loop.
The red and blue battle suits were so conspicuous in the dim storm.

He held up a massive ship weighing tens of thousands of tons with one hand, his muscles bulging elegantly beneath his battle suit, hovering above the raging winds and waves, as if the physical laws of this planet were nothing more than docile pets before him.

A rising star in the metropolis...

superman.

Others didn't know his background, but he...

As a former senior DEO agent and now the commander of the sixth group of the Sky Eye Society, he had enough authority to know part of the truth.

That guy isn't human.

He is an alien life form.

An alien with powers that we cannot understand or reach.

Although my level is not high enough to find out which planet he comes from, his specific threat assessment, his true identity, and so on.
But one thing is certain.
The power he possesses is enough to easily overturn all the order he knows.

A chill, mixed with fear, crept up John Lynch’s heart.

We humans…

What is anything compared to something like this?
To entrust the survival of our entire race to the unpredictable goodwill of an alien? To expect him to always be on our side?
To entrust the safety of the entire planet to the moral code of an alien.
"boom--!"

A deep, muffled thud came from far behind, piercing through the clamor of the wind and rain.

A blinding orange-red flame suddenly burst forth on the distant horizon behind them, briefly illuminating the thick clouds with an apocalyptic crimson hue.

"Shit! The yacht exploded!"

Cole turned around in astonishment, only to see a dissipating cloud of fire. "That guy... he was so ruthless?! Damn it... there wasn't even a survivor..."

really
John Lynch's gaze pierced through the layers of rain, landing on the endless dark sea, where beneath the waves lay everything that had just been judged by a 'god'.

There are no courts, no procedures, only the final judgment made by absolute power.

John Lynch exhaled a breath of stale air, and his gaze hardened in the rain.

The original intention of the Tianyan Association, the establishment of the Sixth Group, and the cooperation with Luther Enterprise.
They cannot rely on uncontrollable external forces or those semi-retired old guys forever.

Amanda Waller's foresight may lie in this.

The energy contained within the black diamond... those forbidden experimental data... perhaps hold one of the keys.

He clenched his fist slightly.

Humanity must possess its own absolutely controllable superhuman!
Remove constraints, even eliminate them.
Hunt!

Hunt down those non-human gods who walk among humans!
(End of this chapter)