From picking up corpses to becoming a true god of America

Chapter 110 You really are a beast!

Olympic, FBI Division.

A secret meeting is being held on the top floor of this seven-story building.

Led by Charles and Griffin, the reinforcements sent from headquarters firmly controlled the situation.

They scrutinized Louise and the others sitting opposite them as if they were on trial in a courtroom.

"I'll say it again, there were definitely more than just those three people that night!"

Louise slammed her hand on the table, her cold eyes blazing with fury.

She clearly remembered that at least twenty gunmen were chasing them that night.

But now Charles and the others are saying there are only three people?

"You'll suffer a great loss if you do this!"

However, her advice was met only with suppressed laughter.

Griffin loosened his tie, unable to suppress the smile that appeared on his face.

"Thank you for reminding me, Ms. Louise."

"However, please remember that we are not holding this meeting to apply for anything from you, but simply to inform you."

"you!"

The atmosphere in the meeting room suddenly became somewhat awkward.

Guy and the others sitting next to Louise all looked indignant.

But Griffin stood up nonchalantly, took out a laser pointer, and tapped on the screen.

"According to our intelligence analysis, the recent violent incidents around Seattle are basically all related to the University of Washington."

"In the first case, both the gunman, Arthur, and the victim were students."

"In the second case, a local gang employed by Mpower would frequently approach students at schools to demand repayments."

"Not to mention Saveri and Ozeki Tomosho."

When Louise saw the red dot circle the map, her heart skipped a beat.

She was aware of the situation, but couldn't figure it out.

Did they make some new discovery?

Louise couldn't help but ask curiously.

"So you finally identified the suspect?"

"no."

Charles's response was quite straightforward.

Dude, what are you pretending for here if I can't find anything?

Guy and the others couldn't help but burst out laughing.

They thought these guys from the Federation were really something, but it turns out they're just average.

"No, we don't need an investigation."

Griffin gave a malicious smirk and glanced at his watch.

"In a few days, a train loaded with chemicals such as vinyl chloride will depart from Portland, Oregon, for Seattle."

"Vinyl chloride?"

Many people in the room looked puzzled.

They were aware of the danger of these things, but they didn't understand why Griffin would suddenly bring it up.

"You guys are still too naive."

Griffin glanced at the local agents present, raised his eyebrows slightly, and spoke slowly.

"Since we can't find out anything, why don't we just wait for him to come forward on his own?"

"Since he wants to be a hero, let's give him the chance to be in the spotlight."

"Once someone is on the FBI's radar, no one can escape easily."

"Nobody's here."

Upon realizing what Griffin had said, Guy and the others were so excited they almost jumped out of their chairs.

You're a real beast!

They couldn't even imagine what Griffin was up to.

What if a train loaded with hazardous chemicals were to leak in Washington state?

The scene was so hellish that it was unimaginable.

"Bastards! You bunch of animals!"

Guy couldn't help but stand up and question, "How can you do this to our badges?"

"Exactly! Aren't citizens of Washington State human beings?"

Despite the overwhelming barrage of insults, Griffin remained calm, even seemingly enjoying it.

Let them curse all they want.

It doesn't matter if so many people die.

If he can solve this case, he will become the most legendary detective in American history!

Late at night, in an old bar on West Ferdinand Street in Seattle.

The air was filled with a faint smell of tobacco and a faint musty odor.

Accompanied by the nostalgic jazz music playing in the store, a few haggard men sat in a corner, drunkenly drinking cheap beer.

It was late at night, and there were few pedestrians on the street.

However, just when the boss thought that tonight would end in such a dismal failure again...

A tall man in a long trench coat pushed open the door and slowly walked into the store, immediately attracting everyone's attention.

Because he is so strange.

Although he looks very tall, he seems to have some health problems, and he walks with a limp.

Moreover, his arms and neck were wrapped in bandages, leaving only his disheveled, tired white face beneath his messy hair.

"Hello?"

The bar owner greeted them, "What would you like to drink?"

"Three bottles of Modero and a plate of peanuts."

The mysterious visitor casually sat down at the bar, and his terrifying face startled the owner.

Is this... is this still human?

The bar owner stared wide-eyed, swallowing hard in surprise.

Because this person's face was so strange—thin, pale, and with pitted, uneven skin, as if it had been burned.

However, the people who come to this shabby bar are mostly pitiful people with special experiences. They don't have much spare money and want to find a place to drown their sorrows and vent their emotions to avoid being driven crazy by this damn situation.

The owner was only slightly surprised, then quickly turned around and brought over a plate of peanuts and three bottles of beer.

Please enjoy your meal.

"Thanks."

Klingen nodded slightly, skillfully opened the beer, and took a deep gulp.

He really craved this.

Previously, when Ye Xiao locked him in the cellar, Klingen hadn't even tasted a single drop of liquid containing alcohol.

But it was also thanks to that boring time.

Klingen finished reading the books Ye Xiao had sent, especially the ones from the great Eastern country.

During this process, he not only became proficient in controlling the new power given to him by Ye Xiao, but also gained a deeper understanding of the current situation.

This country is sick.

Just like him now, his enormous body is entirely supported by rotting flesh and viruses.

But that powerful force did not disappear.

Under a precise and efficient system, it continuously devours the lives and resources of the world to keep this living corpse running.

"Hey buddy, are you from out of town?"

A drunken, obese white man suddenly greeted Klingan.

"Yes, I used to live northeast of 15th Avenue."

Klingen answered maturely.

"Oh, I thought you were from out of town."

The fat man chuckled. "Did something happen? Why are you drinking yourself into a daze here?"

"It's nothing, I'm just feeling a little unwell."

Klingen smiled, picked up a bottle of beer, turned around, and pretended to hand it over.

"Would you like a drink?"

"Oh my god!"

Upon seeing Klingen's almost disfigured face, the few people present exclaimed in surprise.

However, considering the beer and their extensive experience, they agreed.

"Come on, buddy, as long as you have money, we'll stay with you until dawn tonight."

"OK."

Klingen chuckled. "Then boss, give me two more dozen Modero."

"Phew! You're such a good person!"

The group of drunkards never expected to be so lucky, actually encountering such a generous boss.

After a beer, the atmosphere immediately became more relaxed, and Klingen naturally blended in as well.

He remembered the book he had read, and he also remembered Ye Xiao reminding him when he let him out.

Let him carry a pair of eyes and a pair of ears, wherever he goes, let him listen more and see more.

So Klingen chose this little tavern located in the slums.

And this place truly gave him a great surprise.

"You might not be able to tell now, but did you know? I used to be a member of a Marine Corps armed reconnaissance team."

Upon hearing what the fat man who had greeted them said, Klingen's eyes lit up, and he couldn't help but feel curious.

Fueled by alcohol, the fat man let out a burp, a complex expression flashing across his greasy face—a mixture of pride, wistfulness, and disgust.

"We serve as the president's sharpest blade, equipped with the most rudimentary gear, carrying out the most difficult missions in the world, and are dispatched to various parts of the globe to carry out all sorts of secret and illegal operations."

"That sounds cool, right?"

"But do you know what happened to my comrades?"

At this point, the fat man became increasingly agitated, slamming his fist on the table. His face no longer showed any pride, only intense disgust and indignation.

"At first they said they were fighting for the country, but things got weirder and weirder. Do you really think those poor people who can't even get enough to eat can threaten such a huge country as ours?"

"When my comrades died in a foreign land, unable to even bring their bodies back, those disgusting bureaucrats would only use fabricated stories to deceive their families, refusing to offer even a shred of compensation!"

"These lies permeated my entire military career! I was a victim, but I was also an accomplice, which is why I'm in this predicament!"

As it turns out, strange things tend to happen in taverns that are all men.

The atmosphere began to become somewhat heavy.

Just as the fat man finished speaking, another burly black man, missing an arm, echoed in a muffled voice.

"I am proficient in parachuting, demolition, sniping, and infiltration. I can also drive tanks. I am the best soldier and was once equipped with equipment worth millions of dollars."

"But after returning to China, my wife had an affair and divorced me, and she has to give me half of my retirement pension."

"She's cheating on me with other men, abusing my children, but I can't even find a job as a security guard! All I can do is drink here!"

"God! If I am guilty, why didn't I die on the battlefield?"

The boss brought out dozen beers after dozen.

Klingen heard many different stories, but the general endings were all the same.

The protagonist eventually ran out of money, developed a serious mental illness, and lost the ability to work.

I can only wander like a homeless stray dog ​​in this bustling metropolis.

Occasionally, he would earn a little money, either by using American herbal remedies or by coming to the pub to numb his senses with alcohol.

Klingen once saw a statistic in a book.

Most people who end up homeless do not live past the age of 35, and many can only survive on the streets for three to five years after losing their stable home.

But in the eyes of these people, Klingen only saw confusion, anger, and a helpless despair.

They possess rich experience and extraordinary skills, but reality has molded them into such useless individuals.

Seeing this, Klingen couldn't help but admire the Federation's sophisticated machine.

While relaxing gun control, it capitalizes on the promotion of individualism, consumerism, cheap processed foods, overuse of painkillers, and the ubiquitous presence of American herbs and cocoa.

People who could have been united were completely broken up into individual atoms.

Alcohol gradually numbed the brain, causing the heart, which had not been beating for a long time, to begin to tremble violently.

Klingen suddenly realized that after reading so many books, the world before him had completely changed.

Despite how familiar everything was, Klingen still felt a strong sense of unease.

The mottled walls seemed to have turned into flesh and blood, constantly shrinking, and the dim light bulbs resembled the drooling saliva of a monster.

"I've had enough! I'm going to put an end to these lies right here and now!"

The fat man suddenly stood up and roared angrily.

"Save your breath, Remy. What can you do now?"

The Black man scoffed, "You think you're a special forces soldier?"

Like the child who appeared at the end of the Emperor's New Clothes, the black guy's words struck a chord with everyone.

What's even more unbearable is that even if they had the same power as before, they wouldn't be able to find anyone to take revenge on.

Is it really necessary to risk your life to fight that bitch, then confront the police, get riddled with bullets, and make one last national headline before you die?

No, in this era of frequent shootings, they might just make the headlines in Seattle.

"Not necessarily?"

Just as everyone was silent, Klingen suddenly spoke up.

"What are you talking about?"

Everyone looked at Klingen in confusion, wondering if he was drunk.

"If I could give you the power to change all of this, what would you do?"

Upon hearing this, Remy and the others nervously swallowed.

The brain, affected by alcohol, begins to think uncontrollably.

"I'll kill that bitch and get my child back."

The black guy lowered his voice.

"no problem."

Klingen looked at these utterly unfortunate and pitiful people before him and made his decision.

He stuffed a handful of peanuts into everyone's hands and said seriously.

"Eat this, and you will possess extraordinary power that will help you achieve the impossible."

Well, this kid is definitely drunk.

Remy and the others burst into laughter.

They're making such a big deal out of a plate of peanuts that costs a few dollars, like it's some kind of Avengers gathering.

"But what will be the price?"

Remy chuckled and, emboldened by the alcohol, chimed in.

"The price is that you will lose your human identity. After you have fulfilled your wish, you must act according to my orders, or you will suffer unimaginable pain."

Ha, this guy's talking like it's the truth?

"Damn, I'll trust you this once."

The black guy chuckled and popped the peanuts into his mouth first, even taking a swig of liquor with him.

It smells so good!

wrong!

Just as the black guy was enjoying the taste, something strange happened.

His body, which was lying on the sofa, suddenly stiffened, and then began to convulse uncontrollably.

At this moment, time seemed to stretch on endlessly.

His eyes widened, his bloodshot eyeballs bulging, as he felt an unimaginable power surging within him, accompanied by unbearable pain.

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