I searched and fought in America.

He drew his sidearm from its holster at his waist, but did not raise it; he simply held it in his hand.

His gaze swept over Rosen and the others, then over the survivors, and finally settled on the intact ground.

His brow furrowed.

After a few seconds of silence, he spoke:

"I am Michael, the captain of the Houston Police Department's SWAT team."

Can anyone tell me what happened here?

No one speaks.

The survivors huddled together, while Caesar and the others remained silent, their gazes fixed on Rosen.

Rosen took a deep breath and took a step forward.

That one step almost made him fall, but Caesar caught him quickly.

Michel's gaze fell on Rosen.

He looked the young man up and down. His face was frighteningly pale, his lips were bloodless, and his body was swaying precariously, clearly in a state of extreme weakness.

But those eyes were so gentle and calm.

"Who are you?" Mihir asked.

Rosen did not answer directly.

He simply pointed to the survivors around him, his voice hoarse:

"They are victims. They were captured by those cultists and brought here. These cultists tortured them and finally detonated a gas cylinder, intending to burn them alive as a sacrifice to their gods."

"."

Michel's expression remained unchanged after hearing this.

He simply turned his head slightly and whispered to a SWAT officer beside him, "Scan the surroundings to check for any danger."

"Yes."

Several special police officers quickly dispersed and began searching the ruins.

Mihir looked at Rosen again:

"You say they are victims, then who are you?"

Rosen was prepared: "I am Rosen of the Iron Claw Gang. These guys are also members of the Iron Claw Gang. We came to this underground space because of some things."

Michel stared at him for a few seconds, a thoughtful look flashing in his eyes.

Iron Claw Gang?

He vaguely remembered this gang; it was a gang that migrated from the crazy state of Judea. Such a gang migration was bound to attract the government's attention.

So at the time, a special person was sent to investigate, and he happened to be the one in charge of the investigation.

At first, he thought the gang was a cult, but after learning more about it, he realized that from the government's perspective, the gang were actually very law-abiding citizens!

He himself was a Protestant, and after learning about the Iron Claws, he developed a great liking for this Protestant gang.

At that moment, a special police officer ran back and reported in a low voice:

"Captain, we've discovered a large number of corpses; preliminary estimates suggest at least twenty."

Most of them were burned beyond recognition, making them unrecognizable.

Michel nodded.

He then looked at Rosen, his eyes revealing obvious confusion:

"Then how do you explain the ground beneath your feet?"

That's the real problem.

Everything around was blown up; everything was charred black.

The area where they were standing, which was over ten meters in diameter, remained completely intact.

There wasn't even a scorch mark. It was as if something had shielded it from the explosion.

Rosen was silent for a second.

Then he raised his head, met Mihir's gaze, and calmly said:

"Because God has protected us."

Michel was taken aback.

The special police officers behind him were also stunned for a moment.

"What?"

"I said, God protected us," Rosen repeated, his voice still calm.

"I prayed to God before those cultists detonated the bomb."

Then, a light shield descended from the sky and enveloped us.

The explosion occurred outside, but the inside remained completely undamaged.

Michel's expression turned strange.

He had seen many explanations: some were made up, some were attempts to shirk responsibility, and some were just sophistry.

But I've never seen anyone explain it as a "miracle by God".

And he said it so frankly, so matter-of-factly.

"Are you kidding me?" Mihir asked.

Rosen shook his head and said nothing.

He simply raised his right hand and then—gave it a gentle squeeze.

A soft white light shone from his palm.

The light was warm and bright, and it seemed so...unreal.

Everyone was stunned.

The special police officers instinctively took a step back, their fingers on the trigger.

Michael's pupils contracted sharply, and his grip on the gun tightened.

The light lasted for a few seconds, then slowly dissipated.

Rosen lowered his hand, looked at Michel, and maintained his calm expression:

"This is the power that God has given me."

You may not believe it, but it's true.

A deathly silence fell over the scene.

Only the distant flames were still crackling.

Michel stared at Rosen without saying a word.

His brain was racing, trying to explain everything he had just seen with logic.

Magic? Light tricks? Some new technological device? Mass hypnosis?

But no matter how he thought about it, he couldn't come up with a reasonable answer.

That light was real; he saw it with his own eyes.

The dozen or so special police officers behind him also witnessed it.

The silence lasted for a full thirty seconds.

Then Mihir spoke, his voice hoarse:

"...You mean, you are God's messenger?"

Rosen gently shook his head:

"I am not an envoy."

"I am just one of the chosen ones."

Mihir looked at Rosen, at the survivors, at the intact ground, and at the ruins and corpses scattered in the distance.

Then he made a gesture.

The SWAT officers behind him relaxed their vigilance slightly, lowering their guns slightly, but still maintaining a firing posture at any moment.

Michel put his sidearm back in its holster, took a few steps forward, and stopped two meters away from Rosen.

His gaze swept over the survivors.

An old man with a broken leg, a girl with blood streaming from both arms, a mother holding her child, several trembling toddlers, and a corpse held in the arms of a teenager.

The survivors all stared intently at him, their eyes filled with...

He's been a policeman for twenty years and has seen too many victims.

Those who were robbed, raped, kidnapped, and abused.

Their eyes might hold fear, numbness, or hatred.

Unlike these people, he only had one thing in his eyes.

Devotion.

He had only ever seen that look in the church.

That's the look in the eyes of devout believers when they look up at the cross.

Mihir's cheek twitched as he looked at the bizarre runes that were densely carved into the faces and bodies of these survivors.

He turned to a SWAT officer beside him:

"Calling headquarters, requesting backup. We need forensic experts, firefighters, and... a lot of people."

"Yes."

The SWAT officer stepped aside and began making a call.

Mihir then looked at Rosen:

"Whether what you're saying is true or false, all of you need to come with me to the police station to give statements."

Also, we need to preserve the scene for investigation; none of you can leave.

Rosen had expected this and nodded.

Mihir nodded:

"I need all of you to cooperate, including those so-called 'miracles' you mentioned."

Rosen looked up:

"You want me to prove it?"

Mihir shook his head, then nodded:

"Not proof, but... let me figure out what really happened."

He paused, a hint of weariness in his voice:

"This explosion has had a huge impact. The city government is in an uproar, and the state government is asking about it."

I was given a strict order from above: I must find out exactly who did it.

Therefore, I hope you don't take any chances.

If those cult members you mentioned are real, and they were the ones who carried out the bombing, then you are naturally safe, but if…”

He paused, not continuing.

Rosen spoke for him:

"But if I did it, I would be arrested as a terrorist."

Michel did not deny it.

Rosen looked at him and smiled frankly:

"Then let's investigate."

Take everyone back and let them tell what they saw and what they experienced.

Then, it's up to you to judge.

20 minute later.

The first group of survivors were pulled to the ground with ropes, then the second, and the third.

Rosen was the last one.

As the rope was tied around his waist and he was slowly pulled toward the beam of sunlight, he glanced down at the ruins below.

Amidst that scorched earth, only one patch of land remained intact.

The rope slowly rose.

Mihir watched him from inside the helicopter, his eyes filled with complex emotions. His partner had just finished investigating the open area where the survivors were located.

It's so eerie, so clean, it's like a real miracle happened!

Rosen met that gaze, a slight smile playing on his lips.

He suddenly had a brilliant idea.

---

Fables:

"Covering one's ears while stealing a bell"

The author shut down the comments and subscriptions in the background and told himself, "As long as I don't watch it, I'll be number one on the bestseller list."

Then he fainted from hunger in the hallucination of being number one.