Rampaging through American comics, people in my motherland don't eat beef.

"How is that possible..."

Mike roared internally.

For the first time in his life, he found his heartbeat to be so strong and powerful, as if it would burst out of his throat at any moment.

He could swear to God that his eyes never left the scope for more than two seconds, yet in that short time, the person who should have been a hundred meters away appeared beside him like a ghost.

It's fake, a hallucination. I've had too much to drink, I'm still drunk!

Mike tried to comfort himself, but then realized with despair that he was allergic to alcohol and couldn't drink at all!

"Sir, you've probably misunderstood."

Mike forced a smile, his brow beaded with sweat, and tried to appear calm as he said, "We are the FBI, on an extremely dangerous mission. Our target is a notorious international fugitive who has planted several bombs in the amusement park. For your safety, I suggest you leave as soon as possible."

"But I heard it clearly. The person you're looking for is wearing a white plaid shirt, blue jeans, and has short blond hair. Look closely at me, don't I look exactly like the wanted criminal?" Gray said with a half-smile.

"coincide."

Mike dropped his sniper rifle with a "thud" and said sincerely, "There will always be coincidences in the world that can lead to misunderstandings, but that doesn't include me. I'm a professional, and I can see through your good nature at a glance."

"You have good taste," Gray nodded in approval.

Mike's lips twitched, and he quickly waved his hand modestly: "Actually, it depends on the person. It's just that your temperament is so outstanding that it's hard to ignore you."

"What's your name?"

"Mike Brady."

Gray remarked, "Mike, you have a wonderful eye for beauty, which is truly admirable. Please keep it up. I admire you."

"……Thanks."

"You can continue with your mission; I won't bother you any longer."

Gray turned and took two steps, then suddenly stopped and added, "By the way, Mike, you'd better not point a gun at someone's head anymore. It's very rude."

"I will definitely change!"

Mike nodded emphatically until Gray's figure completely disappeared, then his legs went weak and he collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.

Large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, and his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. The few words of conversation gave him the illusion that he was hanging by a thread, teetering on the edge of life and death.

He was absolutely certain that his clumsy lie had not fooled the man; the man must have initially intended to kill him, but for some reason, he changed his mind in the end.

"His speed is extremely fast, making him difficult to threaten with light weapons. His strength is uncertain, but it's unlikely to be weak. Those incompetent people who provided the intelligence are truly despicable. If we had known beforehand that the target was a superhuman, we wouldn't have acted so rashly. Getting close to him is practically suicide!"

Still shaken, Mike's gaze involuntarily drifted to the sniper rifle at his feet, hesitating whether to pick it up again.

Before the operation, Kingpin, that cold-blooded man, gave a death order: the killer must be brought back no matter what, or the mission would fail...

Bang bang bang!

Just then, a burst of gunfire suddenly rang out not far away. Mike's heart tightened, and he quickly ran to the railing of the observation deck and looked in the direction of the sound.

"He really does know everything..."

As Mike watched the flames gradually die down in the distance, his legs moved backward uncontrollably. The moment the gunfire stopped, he could no longer suppress his fear and fled frantically.

monster!

A monster far more brutal and terrifying than Kingpin!

It was only a minute, or even less?

Mike didn't see the whole process clearly, but with each blink, multiple companions turned into gruesome corpses. Some were cut in half at the waist, some had their heads and spines ripped out of their bodies, and the worst ones were embedded in the ground, becoming one with the soil.

Gray's strength was too great, and because it grew too fast, it was always in a semi-out-of-control state. Often, a light punch was enough to turn a person into a bloody mist.

Mindy misunderstood Gray. He did want to take the position, but he never intended to deliberately create a flying position for anyone. It was just a wonderful misunderstanding caused by the inability to freely control one's power.

"He can sprint 100 meters in about 0.7 seconds, and can lift about 20 tons of weight with both hands. He can't fly and doesn't have heat rays. He is still far behind the original Homelander, but considering his growth time, he is already quite good."

Gray flicked his hand, sending the head that had been accidentally pulled out along with its spine flying far away. His intention was to grab the other person's hair and coolly ask: Who sent you?

As it turned out, the person just died suddenly, without any explanation.

But it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter who causes trouble, it's just a matter of a minute or two to resolve anyway.

"Killed over twenty people, and my strength didn't change at all. It felt like stepping on ants." Gray glanced at the corpses at his feet, feeling neither disgust nor pleasure, and his emotions remained completely unmoved.

This is why, in the eyes of outsiders, he appears incredibly cold-blooded, like a monster devoid of emotion.

Mike was terrified and fled in a panic, not hesitating at all even if he faced Kingpin's pursuit.

Mindy huddled under the trampoline, her short legs pressed tightly together, too afraid to move.

Big Daddy narrowed his eyes and looked at Gray thoughtfully.

"He killed 23 people in a total of 47 seconds. In such a short time, he didn't hurt a single ordinary person, and even the amusement park rides were completely undamaged. Mindy, do you know what that means?"

"Don't talk to me, I just want to pee right now..." Mindy said with a tearful face.

"It's a bit unbelievable, but this guy might actually be a good person," Big Daddy said, surprising everyone.

"So it turns out you're the one who's really gone mad."

Mindy looked at Big Daddy as if he were an idiot: "Big Daddy, are you trying to say that he's a good person, I'm an angel, and you're God?"

"Wait here for me, I'll go try to make contact with him."

Big Daddy wasn't in the mood to argue with her. Before he could finish speaking, he darted out from under the trampoline. Mindy was stunned for a moment, but after realizing what was happening, she followed him out without thinking.

"Hey, hey, hey, are you out of your mind?! That guy's bloodthirsty, even if you have some ideas, you can't go now!"

Mindy shouted anxiously.

However, Big Daddy remained resolute, his gaze fixed firmly on Gray. Mindy chased after him, her little hands clenched tightly together, muttering "I'm going to die, I'm going to die" repeatedly, but her steps did not falter.

Gray glanced sideways at the two approaching figures, his face expressionless, as calm as a stagnant pool.

Big Daddy stopped a few meters away from Gray, took a deep breath, and tried to make himself appear harmless.

However, before he could explain his purpose, Gray suddenly changed his indifferent expression, pointing at Mindy with a look of surprise and delight, "I remember you, the little girl who helped me stand in line twice!"

What does "helping you queue" mean?

Mindy was instantly furious, wishing she could pull out a rocket launcher and fire three or four shots, but of course, she didn't dare to explode on the surface. Instead, she nodded obediently, cutely, and shyly.

"Yes, it's me~"