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

Meanwhile, in an abandoned manor on the outskirts of Tegucigalpa, Verus was sitting in the living room, discussing the transport plan three days later with several mutants. "Three days from now, you must be fully prepared to escort the contraband through the port of Laceva without any mistakes," Verus said solemnly. "Lord Karen has instructed us that this batch of contraband is extremely important, related to our subsequent experimental plans. If anything goes wrong, we will all be in serious trouble."

"Don't worry, boss," a mutant said respectfully. "We've made all the arrangements. We have plenty of mutants to escort the goods, and the outpost in La Ceva Port is heavily guarded. We'll be able to get the contraband out smoothly without any problems."

Verus nodded, a cold smile playing on his lips: "Very good. Also, you must be wary of Lynn and his group. That guy is cunning and very capable. We cannot let our guard down. Once we find their trail, we must act immediately and not let them ruin our plans."

"Understood!" the mutants responded in unison.

On the day of the operation, dawn was breaking, the heavy darkness of night not yet fully dissipated, only a faint glimmer of white appearing on the horizon, carrying the damp chill of early morning, enveloping the entire port of La Ceva. Lynn stood beside an SUV concealed behind a container truck, his fingertip lightly pressing his earpiece to confirm a stable signal. His sharp gaze swept over his team members—each clad in black combat uniforms, tactical helmets obscuring most of their faces, assault rifles cocked, muzzles slightly lowered, yet always pointed towards the docks, radiating a tense, combat-ready aura. Rodriguez led ten officers on either side, dressed in standard uniforms, pistols and batons at their waists, their eyes reflecting both the tension of the battle and the determination to solve the case. Not far away, support team members dispatched by the U.S. Embassy in Honduras were quickly inspecting heavy weapons. Several snipers had quietly taken up high ground around the dock, set up their sniper rifles, and locked their scopes on every corner of the dock entrance. The entire ambush formation was airtight and without any flaws.

"Attention everyone, remain concealed, turn off all unnecessary light sources, keep communications silent, only receive instructions, and no speaking without authorization." Lynn's voice came clearly to everyone's ears through the headset, his tone low and firm, without a trace of extra emotion. "The target may appear at any time. Remember your roles. Once the operation begins, you must cooperate seamlessly. Prioritize your own safety, then intercept the contraband and capture Verus. There can be no mistakes."

The team members nodded slightly, making no sound, but quietly adjusting their positions to ensure their concealment was secure. Lynn slowly crouched down, his gaze peering through the gaps in the shipping containers at the chaotic La Ceva port dock—the dock was already awake, but lacked any of the vitality of morning; instead, it was filled with a nauseating stench, a mixture of the saltiness of the sea, the pungent smell of diesel, and a faint, almost imperceptible, stench of blood, permeating the damp air. Abandoned shipping containers were scattered everywhere on the dock, their rusted metal frames gleaming coldly in the dim light. Several dilapidated fishing boats were haphazardly moored along the shore, their decks littered with fishing nets and debris. Occasionally, a few gangsters in black vests, their arms tattooed, cigarettes dangling from their lips, guns slung across their shoulders, wandered the dock, their eyes scanning the surroundings warily, occasionally exchanging whispered words, their tone laced with arrogance and vigilance. In the nearby warehouse area, the doors and windows were dilapidated and the walls were covered with graffiti. Several figures could be vaguely seen loitering at the warehouse entrance. It was easy to guess that they were the guards of the Karen organization's stronghold in Lasseva Port, responsible for receiving Verus and the contraband.

"Jason, report your location and situation," Lynn asked in a low voice, pressing the headset again.

Jason's low voice came through the headset, tinged with a hint of tension, yet still calm: "Captain, I have led a team to the container pile on the west side of the dock. We are concealed, have good visibility, and can clearly observe the dock entrance and the direction from which the speedboats are coming. We have not found anything unusual, and all team members are ready for combat."

"Rodriguez, your condition."

"Detective Lynn, my officers and I have entered Warehouse No. 3 in the middle of the dock. The warehouse door is ajar. We are concealed on both sides inside the warehouse, facing the dock. Once the speedboat docks, we can rush out to intercept it immediately. All preparations for intercepting the contraband are in place." Rodriguez's voice was somewhat serious, and you could tell how seriously he took this operation.

Lynn nodded slightly, turned to his two teammates, and made a gesture. The three of them slowly rose and, following the shadows of the containers, began to climb towards the highest point of the dock—an abandoned tower crane. The crane had long been out of service; its rusted steel frame swayed precariously, creaking with every step, a particularly jarring sound in the quiet morning. Lynn and his teammates held their breath, moving swiftly and lightly, trying to avoid making any unnecessary noise, lest they alert the gangsters and guards roaming the dock. After reaching the control room at the top of the crane, Lynn immediately took the best vantage point, took out his binoculars, and slowly adjusted the focus, his gaze sweeping across every corner of the dock, from the entrance to the shore, from the warehouse area to the container stacks, not missing a single suspicious figure or movement.

Time ticked by, the pale dawn gradually giving way to golden sunlight. The sun slowly rose, dispelling the damp chill of the morning, but bringing no warmth to the chaotic dock. Instead, it made the crimes hidden in the shadows even more apparent. More and more people came and went on the dock. Besides gangsters and smugglers, there were also dockworkers who made their living there. They kept their heads down, cautiously weaving between containers and fishing boats, not daring to glance at the armed gangsters, fearing they would get into trouble. The number of boats also increased; small speedboats, fishing boats, and cargo ships moved back and forth incessantly. The roar of engines, the honking of boats, and the shouts of people mingled together, making the dock even noisier and causing some interference for the ambushing team—identifying Verus's speedboat in this chaotic environment was no easy task.

Lynn gripped his binoculars tightly, his eyes constantly alert, scanning each approaching speedboat, carefully observing the people and cargo on board. He knew that Verus's speedboat would be carrying a large number of mutants, its hold filled with contraband for mutant experiments, and Verus himself would stand in the most conspicuous position, exuding his usual arrogance and ruthlessness. His team members were equally vigilant; one kept an eye on the west side of the dock, while another monitored communications, receiving messages from Jason and Rodriguez. The only sounds in the control room were the soft whirring of the binoculars and the steady breathing of the crew.

Around 10 a.m., Lynn, through his binoculars, suddenly spotted several small speedboats on the distant sea. The speedboats were moving at breakneck speed, leaving white trails in their wake as they sped towards the Laceva port. He immediately gripped his binoculars, adjusted the focus, and observed carefully—there were five speedboats in total, each carrying at least four tall mutants. They wore black combat suits, their arms covered in black markings identical to those of the mutants they had captured before. They held modified assault rifles, the muzzles pointed at their surroundings, their eyes scanning the sea and the port with wary intent, exuding a powerful and ruthless aura. The lead speedboat was slightly larger, and on its bow stood a tall, imposing man in a black trench coat. His face was cold and stern, his eyes icy and sharp, a disdainful smile playing on his lips—this was their target—Verus. His trench coat fluttered in the sea breeze, and he toyed with a pistol in his hand, his expression arrogant, as if victory was already in his grasp. He was completely unaware that a trap was already laid on the dock, waiting for him to walk right into it.

"Target spotted! Five speedboats, Varus is on the lead boat, each boat has about four mutants, and there appears to be contraband in the cabins. They're speeding towards the dock and are expected to dock in five minutes." Lynn immediately pressed his earpiece, his voice low and urgent, clearly conveying the situation to every member of the ambush team. "Everyone, prepare for battle! Proceed according to plan. Jason's team will intercept the speedboats on both sides to prevent the mutants from landing; Rodriguez's team will intercept the three speedboats in the middle and seize the contraband in the cabins; I'll lead the team in a surprise attack from the high ground. Target: Varus! Don't let him escape!"

"Understood!" Jason and Rodriguez responded simultaneously from the other end of the headset, their voices filled with a mixture of excitement and tension. A fierce battle was about to begin.

Verus's speedboat continued its rapid journey, the sea breeze ruffling his black hair. He squinted slightly, gazing towards the dock, his disdainful smile widening. He turned to a mutant beside him and said coldly, "Speed ​​up. Once we're ashore, immediately deliver the contraband to the warehouse and hand it over to the people at the base. No matter how cunning Lynn and his crew are, they won't expect us to arrive so quickly. By the time we've completed the handover, even if they discover it, it will be too late."

The mutant nodded respectfully, roared, and revved the speedboat, propelling it towards the dock. The other four speedboats followed closely behind, forming a tight formation. The mutants raised their assault rifles, vigilantly observing their surroundings, ready for battle at any moment—though arrogant, they knew Lynn's strength was not to be underestimated and they had to be cautious.

Five minutes later, five speedboats arrived at the dock one after another. The bows of the speedboats slammed heavily against the rocks on the shore with a loud "bang," splashing water everywhere. Verus was the first to jump off the speedboat, his feet landing firmly on the concrete ground. He glanced up at the dock, saw the loitering gangsters and the guards at the warehouse entrance, and a satisfied smile appeared on his lips. He said to the mutant beside him, "Quick, unload the contraband and take it to Warehouse Number Three. Be quick, don't waste time."

"Yes, boss!" the mutants roared in unison, their voices hoarse and fierce. They turned and headed towards the cabin to unload the contraband. Just as their hands touched the cabin door, Lynn's voice came through the headset again, carrying an undeniable command: "Move!"

At Lynn's command, the team members and officers hidden in various positions immediately sprang into action, shattering the tranquility of the dock. Jason led a group of five, rushing out from behind the container stacks on the west side. Their assault rifles instantly aimed at the two speedboats on either side, and gunfire erupted in a flurry of bullets whistling towards the mutants on the speedboats without hesitation. One mutant, preparing to unload contraband, hadn't even reacted before a bullet struck him in the chest. His body jolted violently, blood gushing out and staining his black combat uniform. He groaned, staggered back a few steps, and collapsed heavily onto the speedboat. After a few struggles, he lost all vital signs.

"Damn it! An ambush!" The mutants on the speedboat reacted instantly, shouting as they abandoned their task of carrying contraband. They immediately raised their assault rifles and returned fire in Jason's direction. A barrage of gunfire erupted as bullets rained down on the container stacks, striking the metal exteriors with clanging sounds and sparks. One team member, unable to dodge in time, was struck in the arm by a bullet. Blood instantly stained his combat uniform. He gritted his teeth, refusing to utter a sound, and immediately crouched behind a container. He quickly retrieved a first-aid kit, hastily bandaged his wound, and raised his rifle again, continuing to fire at the mutants.

Jason fired at the mutants while yelling to his team, "Concentrate fire! Aim for the mutants' heads and knees! That's their weak point! Don't waste bullets!" His voice was drowned out by the gunfire, but it still reached every member of the team clearly. The team immediately adjusted their aim, ceasing their blind firing and precisely targeting the mutants' heads and knees. Bullets whistled through the air, and mutants fell one after another, struck in the knee. One mutant's legs buckled, and he collapsed to his knees with a piercing scream. He struggled to his feet but couldn't maintain his balance. Jason seized the opportunity, raised his hand, and fired a shot that struck him precisely in the head, ending his life. (End of Chapter)