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

“Heart of Fire” was held in a specially designed interrogation room at the FBI's Manhattan branch. His wrists and ankles were tightly bound by special ability suppression devices. He stared coldly at Lynn across from him, his face etched with exhaustion and struggle. He had clearly been through an intense inner battle, and Lynn's gaze did not waver.

“Marcus, it’s all over,” Lynn said coldly. “Your operation failed, and ‘Dawn’s’ hideout has been cleared. The only thing you can do now is tell me the truth. Who's controlling you guys?”

Marcus sneered, a hint of mockery in his eyes. “Controlling? Do you think I'm a puppet? No, Inspector Lynn, everything I did was for revenge, to make those who destroyed us feel the pain.”

Lynn moved closer, his tone low and firm. “Revenge? If this is just your revenge plan, why do you have so many resources? Why does ‘Dawn’ follow your orders? You know you can't do this alone.”

Marcus was silent for a moment, his eyes flickering as if weighing his options. He finally sighed and said softly, “You think I'm the mastermind? No, I'm just a pawn. They knew I hated this society, knew I hated those who turned me into a monster. They used my anger, gave me resources, gave me a team, and even told me what to do.”

Lynn's expression became even more stern. “Who are they?”

Marcus's face darkened. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes filled with helplessness and pain. “Koen Industries, and those behind them. I never saw their real faces, but every time I needed something, someone would deliver it. Funds, weapons, plans… They even told me how to create panic.”

Kate stood aside, listening to Marcus's confession, a complex emotion rising in her heart. She finally broke the silence and asked softly, “Why are you willing to say this now?”

Marcus turned to look at her, a bitter smile on his lips. “Because I failed. They will push the blame onto me and erase all traces of their involvement. I know what my fate is, but if I can expose their plan, maybe I can salvage something.”

Lynn's brow furrowed even more. He looked at Marcus, his eyes scrutinizing. “Do you have evidence? Evidence that can prove Koen Industries was directly involved in these actions.”

Marcus closed his eyes and said slowly, “I kept some communication records and copies of the financial ledgers they gave me. I hid them in a place, originally intending to keep them as a last resort. If you really want to find out, go find those things.”

“Address,” Lynn asked without hesitation.

Marcus opened his eyes, looking at Lynn calmly. “Warehouse Seven in the Brooklyn dock area, under the floor behind the east wall. I only hope you can find them and expose their true faces.”

Lynn nodded, quickly got up, and signaled an agent to record the address. He turned to look at Kate and said softly, “We have to act immediately. This may be our only chance to find direct involvement from Koen Industries.”

Kate nodded, but her eyes held a hint of unease. “Lynn, if what Marcus said is true, the people behind the scenes may have already started cleaning up these traces. We have to be fast.”

The two left the interrogation room, leading a squad straight to the Brooklyn dock area. The warehouse district under the night was eerily quiet, with only the occasional sound of wind whistling through the dilapidated iron sheets. Lynn and Kate stood in front of Warehouse Seven, exchanged a glance, and then nodded to signal the team to prepare to break in.

The interior of the warehouse was dark and cluttered, but empty. Lynn and Kate quickly found the mark on the east wall. After prying open the floor, they found a hidden metal box.

“This is it,” Lynn said softly, quickly putting the documents into an evidence bag. “Marcus didn't lie.”

Kate's eyes swept over the documents, but a feeling of unease arose in her heart. “Lynn, if Koen Industries' tentacles really go this deep, they won't let this evidence fall into our hands so easily.”

Just as she finished speaking, the sound of engines suddenly came from outside the warehouse. Several black SUVs drove up quickly, the doors opened, and several fully armed men in black poured out. They had clearly come to destroy the evidence.

Lynn made a decisive decision and ordered over the communicator, “Team, get ready, cover the retreat! We must not let the evidence fall into their hands!”

Immediately, a fierce exchange of fire broke out inside and outside the warehouse. Lynn and the team used the cargo boxes as cover and engaged in a back-and-forth battle with the men in black. Kate was escorted to a safe corner. Although she was asked not to approach the battle, her eyes were always fixed on Lynn's figure, her heart filled with complex emotions.

In the chaos of the firefight, Lynn handed the evidence to a team member and ordered in a low voice, “Take these things away immediately and send them back to headquarters!”

“Inspector, what about you—” The team member hesitated.

“I'll cover you, go!” Lynn interrupted him, his eyes firm.

The team member nodded and quickly retreated with the evidence. Lynn continued to fight the men in black until the last enemy was subdued. He finally breathed a sigh of relief.

When everything calmed down, Kate stepped forward, looking at Lynn, who was covered in gunpowder smoke, with a complex expression and said softly, “You knew there was danger, but you still put yourself in the front.”

Lynn looked at her, a tired smile on his face. “Someone has to do it. I can't let these people destroy our only chance.”

Kate didn't say anything, just reached out and gently grasped Lynn's arm, her eyes full of gratitude and a hint of unspoken emotion.

When Lynn walked into his house, he heard the sound of the TV and the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen. Although it had only been a few months since he'd been home, everything seemed quite unfamiliar. He saw George busy in the kitchen, obviously preparing dinner. His foster father's back looked a little hunched, but he was still skillfully chopping vegetables and stir-frying, as if the years had not changed him at all.

“Lynn, you're back.” George heard the sound, turned around, and smiled, but his eyes were mixed with a hint of fatigue and vague alienation. Lynn nodded, took off his coat, and hung it by the door. “Yes, I came back to see you.”

George hummed softly, turned around, and continued to work, saying in a flat tone, “Gwen is in her room, she's been busy lately. Go see her.”

Lynn followed the familiar stairs to the second floor and knocked on Gwen's door. There was a rush of paper rustling inside, followed by his sister's flustered voice, “Who is it?”

“It's me.” Lynn pushed open the door and found Gwen lying amidst a pile of application forms and textbooks, her eyes full of fatigue. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Gwen forced a smile. “Of course, applying to college, you have to be busy.”

Lynn walked over and saw the scattered scholarship application materials on the table, feeling a faint pang of heartache. He sat down opposite her and said, “You don't have to work so hard. If you need anything, tell me or Dad, we'll help you.”

“Will you really help?” Gwen raised her head, a hint of barely perceptible resentment in her tone. “You're so busy that you rarely come home. Do you even know what I'm busy with?”

Lynn was momentarily speechless. He tried to defend himself, but the words turned into a sigh. He said, “What about those things related to work?”

At dinner, George served several home-cooked dishes. The entire table was abundant, but the atmosphere was not as relaxed as expected. Lynn tried to find some topics to break the silence. “Dad, how have you been lately? Are you still doing those community things?”

“Of course, I have nothing else to do,” George replied blandly, picking up his glass of water and taking a sip. His answer was so simple that Lynn felt uneasy. He noticed that George's face was paler than before, and the movements of his arms were slightly slower.

Gwen ate with her head down, occasionally looking up at Lynn and George, but obviously didn't want to participate in their conversation. Lynn finally couldn't help but put down his chopsticks and asked, “Dad, is there something wrong with your health? You don't seem as energetic as before.”

George frowned, put down his chopsticks, and his tone became slightly stern. “Don't think nonsense, I'm fine. You should worry about yourself.”

Gwen also raised her head and said coldly, “Lynn, he's in good health, better than you. What about you? You're so busy with work that you can't even take care of your family. Now you suddenly want to ask about us?”

Lynn's face stiffened. He felt like he was caught in an irrefutable position. He said softly, “I'm just worried about you. I know I haven't done enough, but I'm trying to make up for it.”

George sighed and waved his hand. “Enough, don't say anymore. Let's eat.”

The entire dinner ended in silence. Lynn felt a long-lost sense of alienation enveloping the family. He returned to his room, sat at his old desk, and looked at the childhood items that were still neatly arranged in the drawer, his heart filled with mixed emotions. This home had once been his warmest haven, but now it seemed like a strange place that needed to be reintegrated.

Lynn vowed that he had to do better, not just for himself, but also for his foster father and sister.

The next morning, when Lynn woke up, he heard George's low voice downstairs. He rubbed his eyes and went downstairs to see George holding an old hat and a pair of worn sneakers, obviously preparing to go out.

“Lynn, you're up?” George looked up at him, his tone still flat, but with a hint of expectation. “I'm going to take a walk in the park, will you join me?”

Lynn was stunned for a moment and nodded. “Of course.”

Fifteen minutes later, they stood at the entrance of the community park they used to frequent when they were young. The sunlight shone on George's wrinkled face, his eyes filled with nostalgia, as if he were traveling through time.

“When you were a kid, you were always running around here,” George said softly, leading Lynn slowly into the depths of the park. “You had just moved here at that time, you were introverted and unwilling to play with other children. So I brought you here every day, taught you how to kick a ball, taught you how to greet other kids.”

Lynn recalled those vague memories, and a smile couldn't help but appear on his lips. “Yeah, I remember you forcing me to play baseball with the neighbor's kids. I hated it at first, but it later became my favorite sport.”

George nodded and pointed to an old swing not far away. “Do you remember that swing? When Gwen was a child, she sat there, fell down, and cried like a little pump – but you laughed and coaxed her, and carried her around for a lap.”

Lynn followed his gaze, the swing was old and rusty, but he could still see Gwen sitting on it and giggling when she was a child. He said softly, “You really did a lot for us, but I never seriously thanked you.”

George stopped, turned to look at Lynn, and the expression on his face softened for the first time. “You are my children, Lynn. This is what I should do. Raising you gave me purpose and meaning, especially after your mother left.”

Lynn felt a pang of pain in his heart when he heard this. He knew that his mother's death was a huge blow to George, and George took on the responsibility of raising them alone, but never mentioned these difficulties to them.

“Dad, I'm really sorry. Over the years, I've been busy with my own affairs and never thought about how you got through it,” Lynn said softly.

George patted him on the shoulder and said with a smile, “It's good that you can come back now. Life is a bit hard, but you growing up healthy is the best reward for me.”

Behind a bench not far away, Gwen secretly took out her phone and recorded this scene. A smile appeared on her lips as she thought that this conversation would become the most precious memory of their family in the future.

One night, Lynn came home late from overtime. As he passed Gwen's room, he heard the sound of a low guitar and soft singing. He stopped and found the door slightly open. Through the crack in the door, he saw Gwen sitting in a chair, holding an old guitar in her hand, looking down and focusing on playing. Some songbooks and a music competition registration form were scattered on the bed next to her.

Lynn pushed open the door. Gwen was startled and hurriedly put the guitar aside, using her body to block the forms. “Brother, you scared me!”

Lynn glanced at the documents on the bed and raised an eyebrow. “So, is this why you've been locking yourself in your room every day lately?”

Gwen's face flushed slightly, and she said softly with some unease, “I... I'm just trying it out, I might not even participate.”

Lynn walked into the room, picked up the registration form, which clearly read “City Youth Music Competition.” He smiled. “Gwen, this isn't just ‘trying it out,’ is it? You're preparing for a real competition.”

Gwen looked aside with some guilt and murmured, “I'm just afraid... I'm afraid I won't perform well and will disappoint you.”

Lynn sat down, his tone softened a little. “Gwen, do you really think we'll be disappointed because of this? Dad and I will only be proud of you, no matter what the outcome.”

Despite what Lynn said, Gwen still seemed a little unconfident. The next morning, Lynn told George about this. After listening, George pondered for a moment and said, “Gwen needs our support, but we can't directly tell her that we know. That would put more pressure on her.”

(End of this chapter)