Inside an interrogation room at the New York Police Department, a tall Black man sat handcuffed and shackled to a chair.
Directly across from him sat Captain George Stacy, dressed in a sharp suit, looking solemn.
“Who ordered you to do this?
Where are your accomplices?
You’d better talk, or things won’t end well for you.” Hearing this, the Black man sneered coldly.
“Captain, I already told you.
It was just a spur-of-the-moment robbery.
How was I supposed to know they wouldn’t hand over the money?
My partner panicked, fired his gun by accident, and killed them.
That’s the whole story.
Nobody ordered us to do anything.” “Motherfucker!
Do you think we cops are idiots?
You think I’m buying your bullshit?” George roared in anger.
“Believe it or not, that’s all I know!” The man slumped back, acting completely indifferent, and refused to say another word.
Outside the interrogation room, Loren watched the monitor screen in silence, a bloodthirsty smile gracing his face.
He knew all too well how to interrogate a prisoner.
Of course, his method of interrogation wasn’t suitable for outside eyes—it was far too brutal and bloody.
Thus, he stood up and turned to the several high-ranking New York City officials behind him.
“Turn off all the surveillance cameras in the interrogation room.
I’m going to interrogate him personally.” The officials exchanged glances before offering sycophantic smiles.
“Young Master Loren, why bother doing hands-on work for such a minor task?
It’s beneath your status.
Let our men handle it!
We’ll make sure he spills the truth.” As a standout among America’s top ten financial conglomerates, saying the Morgan family held immense power over the country was an understatement.
Not only did a few high-ranking city officials have to flatter him, the primary heir of the Morgan family…
…even members of Congress and the man in the White House had to read his expressions and act accordingly.
Because in a deeply capitalist nation like the United States, so-called congressmen, high officials, and even the president were nothing more than puppets for the major financial families.
The ones who truly controlled the lifeblood of the nation were never the presidents.
It was financial titans hiding behind the curtain like them.
That was an indisputable fact.
From this, one could see just how exalted his status was.
Yet it was precisely because of this that he cared all the more about the truth behind the murder.
Whoever dared to act against a financial family controlling the nation’s lifeblood was clearly no small player.
Therefore, this matter was definitely not as simple as the Black man claimed.
Behind it all, an invisible hand was bound to be pulling the strings.
What he needed to do now was drag that invisible hand into the light and chop it off completely.
Only then could he live his future days in peace; otherwise, it would remain a constant thorn in his side, a sword hanging over his head—something he absolutely refused to allow.
“There are some things I’m only comfortable doing myself.” Ignoring the officials’ flattery, Loren stepped toward the interrogation room.
Just then, the entire police department suddenly lost power.
The monitor screens that had been displaying footage instantly went black.
Seeing this, Loren instinctively went on high alert.
At that very moment, a violent burst of gunfire erupted outside.
Before Loren could figure out what was happening, a rocket blast blew straight through the wall of the room he was in.
A terrifying shockwave surged over everyone in the room like a monstrous wave.
In an instant, several people standing near the wall were blown off their feet.
Yet at that critical moment, 2B stepped ahead and shielded Loren with her body.
Using her steel frame, she bore the brunt of the blast’s impact, saving Loren from suffering the same tragic fate as the others.
Even so, shrapnel from the explosion grazed his face, letting a drop of blood trickle down.
Wiping his bleeding cheek, a towering rage flared in Loren’s eyes.
“Boss, are you alright?” After blocking the shockwave, 2B immediately turned to look at Loren, her voice full of concern.
“I’m fine.
Not dead yet.” “Watch out!” Just as Loren spoke, several men in black armed with submachine guns rushed in through the hole in the wall.
Without hesitation, they opened fire indiscriminately on the survivors, clearly aiming to leave no witnesses alive.
Seeing this, Loren rolled across the floor behind a wall, barely dodging the gunfire.
At the same time, he furiously commanded 2B, “Wipe these scumbags out!” “Understood!” Upon receiving the order, 2B pounced like a leopard, lunging directly in front of one of the gunmen.
Seeing a stunningly beautiful woman suddenly materialize right in front of him, the man in black showed a clear flash of astonishment.
Within a split second, he aimed his gun at 2B, but before he could pull the trigger, 2B grabbed him by the neck.
With a sharp twist and a loud *snap*, his sight faded into darkness forever.
Seeing a woman break out into violence, the remaining men in black all trained their weapons on 2B, attempting to riddle her with bullets.
However, after killing the first assailant, 2B had already snatched his handgun, and her reaction speed was far beyond human limits.
Before they could fire, 2B had already taken the initiative.
*Bang!
Bang!
Bang!* A few gunshots echoed, leaving several more corpses of men in black lying on the floor.
Each had a bullet hole in his forehead, killed instantly with a single shot.
This made it clear just how remarkably precise 2B’s marksmanship was.
In a matter of seconds, every man in black who had stormed the room was sent straight to hell by 2B.
“Boss, mission complete.
Enemies eliminated.” 2B thoroughly checked the surroundings to ensure it was safe before walking over to report to Loren.
“Good.” Loren nodded, adjusted his suit, and stepped out with a calm composure.
The room was now a scene of utter carnage, with a dozen bodies scattered messily across the ground.
In addition to the gunmen in black, several of the city officials who had been flattering him moments ago had also met an unfortunate end.
He paid them no mind, however; right now, he cared far more about what had happened to the Black suspect in the interrogation room.
Just then, Captain George Stacy stepped over from the direction of the interrogation room, his face smeared with blood and dark with gloom.
“Mr.
Loren, the suspect is dead!”