American comics: Praising the sun, starting from Gotham!

A sudden gust of hot wind swept through the outdoor dining area, carrying no dust or sand, as if it were some kind of premonition.

Shum's pupils contracted slightly behind his sunglasses. His lucky coin told him that there might be a small mishap, but the contact with the Flash would go very smoothly.

In his high-frequency dynamic vision, the world seems to be slowed down.

A blur of red and yellow blurred awkwardly weaved between the fast food tables and chairs, even knocking over an empty condiment bottle.

The next second after normal time resumed its flow, the extra-large onion ring tower that was originally used as a display sample on the next table had vanished into thin air, leaving only a few spinning plates and a stack of banknotes spinning and bouncing in place.

"Ah Fu, I think a mouse just went by, it was huge."

Xiu En took the last bite of beef and looked at the missing onion ring with some regret; he had his eye on that dish too.

"According to the information provided by Lord Wayne, he usually has an extremely high basal metabolic rate and a corresponding blood sugar crisis when he uses his abilities."

Alfred elegantly wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Simply put, if he doesn't immediately consume a large amount of calories, he might actually faint from hunger."

On a shady bench at the street corner, a young man with brown hair, wearing a wrinkled plaid shirt and with hair that looked like it had just been pulled out of a dryer, was experiencing the most embarrassing few seconds of his life.

He was holding the unsteady stack of onion rings in his arms, his face flushed, his body feeling dizzy from the overload caused by the forced stop and from hunger.

Xiu En casually picked up the enormous cup of high-sugar soda he hadn't finished and the unopened family bucket that Afu had kindly handed him, and strolled over to the bench as if taking a leisurely walk.

Barry Allen burped violently, choked by the unchewed onion in his throat, and looked up in horror at the stranger who seemed to have his own stage lighting.

Especially since this person has a sunflower growing on their shoulder that seems to be watching them?

"Hey, if you don't mind!"

Hugh placed the huge family bucket at the other end of the bench.

"This stuff is too oily. My doctor said I have high levels of metals recently and can't eat too much fried food."

Hugh sized up the young man who was trying to stuff an entire onion ring into his mouth in an attempt to conceal his identity.

"Cough...I...I think maybe I can help?"

Barry looked at the bucket of fragrant fried chicken, and his instinctive appetite overcame all reason.

His voice trembled slightly from swallowing, and his eyes were clear to the point of being somewhat foolish.

A completely unequal eating contest is taking place on a bench on the street corner.

The young man named Barry Allen looked like a starving ghost who had just been pulled out of some refugee camp, throwing fried chicken nuggets into his seemingly bottomless stomach with a frequency that, while not elegant, was absolutely efficient.

Hugh simply crossed his legs and casually nibbled on the complimentary stainless steel fork, polishing the ordinary cutlery. The crunching sound made even Barry, who was focused on consuming calories, turn his head to look.

"that?"

"Sir, while I appreciate the chicken wings, that... metal shouldn't be a dessert. I mean, from a forensic perspective, this stuff is indigestible."

"Don't worry, my digestive system went on strike a long time ago, protesting its transformation into heavy industry."

Xiu En casually flicked the fork handle towards a trash can a few meters away, and it landed precisely in the net.

"But you, my friend, the frequency with which you eat reminds me of a bunch of kids who've never had a proper meal. It makes me wonder if the Central City Police Department's salaries are all going towards road repairs."

As he spoke, Xiu En shifted his position slightly to the side to prevent the young man from suddenly jolting and crushing the sunflower that was already perched on his trench coat.

Ivy, perched on his shoulder, pointed the flowerpot at Barry with utter contempt, as if accusing him of the irritating, high-frequency static emanating from him.

"Anything like that around here lately, how should I put it?"

Xiu En narrowed his eyes, as if he were telling a ghost story.

"One of those giant rats that steals everyone's lunch in the blink of an eye? Or a little whirlwind that sparks like fire?"

Barry froze for a moment. That one second might have been just a pause for Shuen, but for a speedster, it was almost enough for him to review all the lies he had told in the first half of his life.

"Ha, a red whirlwind? You're so funny!"

Barry awkwardly turned his gaze to the reflective glass display window beside him, clutching the last piece of Original Recipe Chicken tightly in his hand.

"The weather bureau did say that the convection has been a bit unusual lately. You know, there's always some strange static electricity in the city center, so it might just be... persistence of vision? Or some kind of refraction."

This young man's lying skills are even worse than Xiu's own.

Xiu En almost burst out laughing. At least when he lied directly, he would look the other person in the eye, but this future hero was just staring blankly at the traffic light across the street, his fingers nervously tapping the edge of the family bucket.

Just as the awkward and delicate conversation was about to be silenced, a screeching sound of brakes and screams from the crowd suddenly came from across the street.

A red pickup truck, perhaps driven by a driver who was using his phone, seemed to have gone out of control and hurtled towards an elderly woman crossing the street.

The young man in the plaid shirt who had been awkwardly explaining optical phenomena to Xiu En just moments before vanished almost immediately after the first syllable of the brakes sounded.

There was no start, no build-up of energy, just like there was never anyone sitting on that bench.

Only a ripped afterimage remained in the air, and the fried chicken bone, still clutched in his hand because he hadn't even put it down, began to free fall.

The pickup truck almost grazed the "vacuum zone" that appeared out of nowhere as it sped onto the sidewalk, knocking the road sign askew.

The old lady was already standing in a safe area across the street.

He looked somewhat bewildered at the flushed-faced young man in plainclothes who was patting his chest to wipe away the cold sweat.

"Okay, hey, optical refraction!"

Xiu En glanced slowly at Barry, who was sneaking back from behind the newsstand ten meters away, with an expression that said, "I just went to the toilet."

"It seems that even light can help old ladies cross the street these days."

On a channel accessible only to encrypted communicators, Xiu En's voice carried a hint of helpless laughter.

"Boss, preliminary assessment complete. It's a good piece of material that hasn't been contaminated yet, with a purity of 99%, but the brain part might only be 10%."

He stood up, deliberately ignoring Barry, who had already sat back down on the bench and was frantically trying to figure out how to explain his teleportation.

This kid is indeed incredibly warm-hearted. Since it's a test of character, he clearly exceeded expectations in this round.