American comic book: I, with my abundant martial virtue, love to do good to others.

He stopped the car, observed silently for a while, and made sure he didn't notice anything unusual. Lynn took a deep breath and decided not to delay any longer. He quickly got out of the car and walked towards the entrance of the underground boxing ring. This time, he didn't try to hide himself, but went directly to the rusty door and knocked.

The reaction behind the door was swift as ever. A burly man peeked out from behind the door, and when he saw Lynn standing in front of the door, he frowned and said, "You're here again?" His tone was full of vigilance.

"I'm here to see the boss," Lynn said calmly. "There are some things I need to talk to him about."

"The boss is busy." The burly man's voice was clearly impatient.

"I know he's busy, but I have something urgent," Lynn said in a deep voice. "It's about Alan, about the underground boxing ring."

The man froze, a complex expression flashing in his eyes, before whispering, "Come in." The moment he opened the door, Lynn quickly stepped inside.

The underground boxing ring was still the same familiar scene: gambling tables, rings, people drinking, and restless noise—everything was just as it had always been. This time, Lynn walked straight towards the corner where the boss was. He knew that in this place, anyone could be a key figure.

"Boss," Lynn approached a black table. The boss was sitting behind the table, his gaze sweeping over him coldly. "I need some information."

The boss looked up, his gaze sweeping over Lynn's face, his eyes unfriendly. "You didn't come here to fight, did you?" He gave a disdainful smile. "What do you want?"

"I know Alan comes here often, and you've had contact with him," Lynn said directly, without beating around the bush. "I'd like to know Alan's background, and where he's been lately?"

The boss lowered his head and chuckled softly, "You really think you can get what you want from me?" He paused, his gaze suddenly sharpening, "You'd better understand, this isn't a place you can just barge into."

Lynn remained calm and slowly took a photograph from his pocket and placed it on the table: "This photograph shows the person I'm looking for. His name is Scott. Tell me where Alan is recently, and I'll give you a greater reward."

The boss's gaze froze instantly. He looked at the photo, then fell silent, as if weighing something. After a moment, he finally spoke: "You're not the first person to want to know Alan's whereabouts. There are some questions you'd better think through yourself." He said calmly, "However, if you want to know his location, I can give you some clues."

The boss gently pushed the photo aside, his gaze remaining calm. Lynn couldn't detect a trace of emotion in his expression, but he knew that people in places like this were extremely adept at hiding their true feelings.

"I know you're not simple," Lynn said, trying to remain calm. "Your contact with Alan is clearly more than just boxing. You also know that there's much more to this than just underground boxing betting. Alan isn't an ordinary boxer; his background is complex, and all the clues point to a much larger network. If you know anything about his recent activities, or if you have any information that could help me, I hope you'll tell me."

The boss didn't respond directly, but lowered his head and pondered for a moment, seemingly assessing whether Lynn's words were trustworthy. The people around them continued their heated discussion, the air thick with the smells of alcohol and tobacco, the noise incessant. But at this moment, the whole world seemed to stand still, all eyes seemingly fixed on the two of them.

Finally, the boss raised his head, his eyes shifting slightly as if he had made a decision: "Alan..." He paused, seemingly carefully considering his words, "He hasn't been here long, and his affairs aren't entirely as simple as the boxing match. He didn't come here to mingle among these people."

"Then what was his purpose?" Lynn lowered his voice, eager to hear more information.

"He's doing business here, he's been in contact with some people, especially those underground arms dealers. Haven't you noticed how these people come and go, and how well they understand Alan? They're not like ordinary gamblers," the boss said in a deep voice. "Alan never directly contacts gamblers; he focuses on those with weapons. And these people are completely invisible to your FBI. If you want to know where Alan is, I'll tell you, he's been in contact with these people recently."

Lynn's heart skipped a beat. He gleaned crucial information from his boss's words—Alan wasn't just a regular at the boxing ring; he had a deeper background, involved in arms dealing. This aligned with some of his previous suspicions: the underground boxing rings were merely a cover for Alan's true identity. Moreover, Alan was clearly more than just a thug; behind his network lay a far more complex web of interests and transactions.

"What kind of deals did these arms dealers make with Alan?" Lynn pressed on, knowing he was close to the truth and needed to dig deeper.

"I don't know much about the details of their deals either." The boss's eyes flickered, as if he was carefully choosing his words. "However, I've heard about several large-scale arms deliveries, all involving Alan as the intermediary. He was responsible for coordinating the locations and providing protection. As for the specific details, I wasn't involved, nor did I ask. They never let me know too much either. If you want to find Alan, you have to start with these people; they are the ones supporting him."

Lynn nodded, a clearer direction in his mind. "Where are these people, and how do we contact them?"

The boss hesitated for a moment, but ultimately picked up the phone book on the table, opened it to a page, and looked up at Lynn: "I can give you some clues, but you have to promise me you won't pass this information on. The rules here can't be broken."

Lynn understood perfectly well that the rules in this place were different from those in the outside world. Underground transactions often relied on a certain tacit understanding, and once leaked, the consequences were unimaginable. "I understand, don't worry," he said, his tone firm and sincere.

The boss pointed to a set of numbers in the notebook: "These are several people who have done a lot of business with Alan; they have a certain status in this circle. You can find out Alan's next move through these people."

Lynn quickly memorized the numbers, his heart filled with gratitude. He knew this information was extremely important to him. The clues to Scott's disappearance were becoming increasingly clear, and the arms dealing behind Alan was the key to a much larger conspiracy.

"Thank you." Lynn stood up, secretly determined that no matter the cost, he had to capture Alan and find out Scott's whereabouts.

The boss didn't speak, only nodded slightly, then turned and returned to his desk to continue dealing with his pile of complicated tasks. Lynn didn't say anything more, quickly left the bar, walked out of the underground boxing ring, stood on the dimly lit street, and took a deep breath.

He understood that this was far from over; it was only just beginning. The underground boxing ring, Alan, the arms deal, and the missing Scott—every link was fraught with uncertainty. Lynn knew that if he didn't quicken his pace and continue the investigation, the truth would slip further away, and Scott might never be found.

He got back into the car, took out his phone, and dialed Mark's number.

"Mark, I have a new lead," Lynn said succinctly.

"Tell me, what clue?" Mark's voice came through the phone, tinged with urgency.

"There seems to be a trail of arms dealing behind Alan," Lynn said as he drove. "I got some information from the bar owner that Alan has close ties with a group of arms dealers involved in some big arms deals. I suspect Scott might be involved."

Mark's breathing quickened slightly, clearly showing great interest in the information: "Arms dealers? This doesn't sound like a simple criminal organization. If Alan is really behind it, this whole thing could be more complicated than we think. What are you planning to do?"

"I've obtained a list of some people who have dealt with Alan. Next, we need to find these people and see if we can trace Alan's whereabouts through their connections. Have there been any similar arms deal leads since Scott disappeared?" Lynn asked.

"We're looking for intelligence on arms deals, which involves a lot of sensitive information and will take time," Mark replied. "But it's also a potential breakthrough. If Scott is indeed involved, his location might be found through Alan's connections."

Lynn nodded slightly, knowing the situation was complicated, but still maintaining a clear objective: "We need to speed things up and not give these people any more time."

After hanging up the phone, Lynn decided to continue investigating the people on the list.

Lynn's car sped through the night, weaving through the bustling streets of Manhattan, heading straight for the destination marked on the map. The lights outside the window flashed past like flowing starlight, while his mind raced. The list the bartender had given him was clearly the key to opening the door between Alan and the arms dealers, and it all pointed to the missing Scott.

Following the information provided by his boss, he found an underground market hidden behind an abandoned factory. It housed criminals primarily engaged in illegal arms dealing and shady transactions. Lynn got out of the car, locked the doors, and quickly approached the factory area. Instead of rushing in, he hid in a corner, observing the surroundings.

The factory was surrounded by high walls, and only a few figures could be seen moving around inside occasionally, creating an unusually tense atmosphere. Lynn held his breath, carefully navigating around a dilapidated truck, trying to avoid making any noise. As he approached the factory, he saw several figures talking in hushed tones in the distance, seemingly discussing something.

He quietly approached one of the men dressed in black and overheard some key conversations: "We have news of Alan. He's coming to pick up the goods tonight at the usual place."

"Wow, Alan's quick! Is what you ordered big enough this time?"

"Of course, that's Scott's plan; the deal has only just begun."

Lynn's heart skipped a beat. Hearing the name "Scott," he immediately seized the clue. He moved closer and listened carefully.

"Then we're ready to receive him. Same place, everything as usual," another voice replied.

Lynn held his breath, memorizing the keywords. Scott's plan was underway, and these people were clearly his subordinates, with Alan in charge of execution, and behind these transactions lay a vast network. Clearly, Scott had completely concealed his identity and was working closely with these arms dealers and underground forces to continue his conspiracy.

Lynn didn't delay any longer, quickly tapping his communicator to notify Mark: "The intelligence I just heard is very important. Scott is controlling everything, these arms dealers are his strong supporters, and Alan is just his tool. Tonight's deal is part of his plan, and the location is the usual place."

"The usual place?" Mark asked urgently. "Are you sure that's Scott's plan?"

"Yes, these people just talked about 'Scott's arrangements,' they're preparing to welcome Alan," Lynn confirmed. "If we can seize Alan or those arms dealers during this deal, we might be able to track down Scott's true location further."

"Understood, I'll mobilize more manpower." Mark's voice sounded even more urgent. "Be careful, don't let yourself be exposed."

Lynn nodded, his decision made. Tonight's operation had to be swift and decisive. He knew this trading point could be a trap; Scott had noticed his investigation, and tonight's action was more than just gathering intelligence; it might present even greater challenges.

Without further hesitation, he decided to lie in wait around the transaction location in advance, so that he could be fully prepared when Alan and the arms dealer arrived.

Time ticked by. Lynn lay prone behind an abandoned building, watching the factory gate. A gentle breeze blew, and all was quiet except for the occasional passing car. Just as he waited patiently, a black SUV suddenly sped towards the factory gate, its headlights piercing the darkness. Lynn's eyes widened instantly; he saw Alan's figure through the car window.

As Alan's SUV slowly pulled up in front of the abandoned factory, Lynn's heart skipped a beat.

He glanced around discreetly to make sure no one else was watching, then quickly approached the factory gate and hid behind a dilapidated steel plate. The light was dim, the air thick with the smells of mildew and grease, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the city, carrying a sense of oppressive loneliness. The factory was almost deserted; all vigilance was concentrated in this moment.

Lynn pressed his ears tightly against the steel plate, and as Alan stepped out of the car, all sounds became clearly audible. Alan's steps were steady and powerful; compared to the fierce fighter in the underground boxing ring, his movements now were full of calm and composure. Clearly, this place did not feel unfamiliar to Alan; in fact, he seemed to completely trust his surroundings.

"He got here really fast," Lynn thought to himself, gripping his communicator tightly, ready to report to Mark at any moment. Through this clue, Lynn gained a more direct understanding of Alan and Scott, the manipulator behind them, and a deeper suspicion began to rise in his heart. (End of Chapter)