The next day.

In Chinatown, at 7 o'clock in the morning, the sun shines on the cool environment.

In the Rose Ballroom, a yellow cordon was raised, and police officers were on guard, preventing reporters from inquiries and harassment.

"Isn't this the base of the Tomahawk Gang?"

"What's wrong?"

"I heard of a murder case."

"Last night, the Rose Ballroom was not open for business and it was very quiet. A group of mixed guys who were looking for a place to smoke marijuana snatched in and found that all the people from the Tomahawk Gang were dead and destroyed."

"How many people died?"

"At least twenty, the boss of the Tomahawk Gang and his men were all dead."

"Hiss...Who is so cruel!!"

"But...well done! Well dying!"

Everyone onlookers discussed it. Seeing that someone seemed to know some information in Chinatown, some reporters turned their microphones to passers-by in Chinatown to ask. Passers-by described the Tomahawk Gang and boasted about the little information they knew. The reporter was hungry and his eyes were shiny.

Inspector Mark of Chinatown Police Department, with his stomach straight and coffee in his hand, and with the help of the police, he cracked a passage and asked him to come in. When the reporters saw Inspector Mark appear, they stretched out their microphones and asked various questions. Inspector Mark's face expressed expressionlessness that there was nothing to tell for the time being, and went straight into the scene of the murder.

After entering the murder scene, a strong smell of blood came into the tip of his nose one after another. Inspector Mark frowned and, with the police's instructions, he went up to the second floor to find Deli's subordinate, John Jones.

John Jones is a police officer about thirty-five years old, with a stubborn face, a strong figure, honest and very decent person.

At this moment, he was staring at the blood on the ground with his eyes flashing, deducing the incident at the crime scene.

"John, what environment?"

Inspector Mark took an Oreo out of his pocket and threw it to John Jones.

John Jones looked at Oreo and then followed Oreo with one hand, tore open the packaging bag, took out a piece of Oreo and bit it, chewed a few bites, felt Oreo's clean sandy texture and fragrance flipped between the teeth and tongues, and said solemnly: "Twenty-seven main members of the Tomahawk Gang, all died and were wiped out."

“Where is the on-site surveillance?”

"The surveillance was destroyed, and the murderer's first goal was to go to the surveillance room to destroy the surveillance."

"What does the forensic doctor say?"

Inspector Mark took a sip of coffee, and the light looked at the ground with some black and dry blood. The forensic doctor had just dragged the body away. Chalk painted the position of the dead person on the ground. The dead person in front of him did not draw his head, and his head was on the other corner of the wall.

It is conceivable how cruel the murderer is.

"The technique is comparable to the most professional anatomist, and it is fatal with one blow without any delay."

"Is it a killer?"

"I don't think it should be a simple revenge."

"Um?"

Inspector Mark looked at John Jones and asked questions.

The Tomahawk Gang had twenty-seven men, all of whom had guns, all died. This was a simple revenge? It would be impossible to kill the twenty-seven gunmen with rich experience without several times of people and careful planning. It would not be a simple revenge in any case.

John Jones slowly ate another piece of Oreo, sorted out his thoughts for a while, and then said, "The murderer is not professional. He searched for the surveillance before destroying the surveillance, and then began to massacre."

Inspector Mark's slightly obese face was stunned, massacre?

"He can fight from the second floor to the fourth floor in just a few dozen seconds, swinging his knife as clean and neatly as cutting air. More than a dozen members of the Tomahawk Gang, everyone has a gun, without a trace of resistance, which is enough to prove that he is not an ordinary person."

"You mean, he is a superpower?"

"It should be, I already have a clue." John Jones nodded, took out another piece of Oreo, twisted it, and licked the chocolate filling.

Inspector Mark frowned. Because the appearance of Superman had embarrassed the entire Metropolitan Police Department and the US government. With Superman's reputation becoming increasingly clamoring, it seemed that the police department was incompetent.

There is nothing easy to do if you involve superpowers.

At this moment, the ringtone of Inspector Mark's cell phone rang. He took out his cell phone and pressed the answer button. Soon after, his face looked ugly, and he argued with the person on the phone, and finally hung up the phone quite weakly.

"John, the director gave the order that the death of the Tomahawks members was designated as gangster fire and assassinated. I need to start writing to close the case." Inspector Mark was helpless.

John Jones paused Oreo's hand and retracted his tongue. It was too sloppy.

"If you want to check, it's only two days."

"Are two days? Enough."

John Jones's eyes flashed and bite Oreo.

·································································

Planet Building.

In the Planet Daily.

Perry White, who is middle-aged, has a little fat body. He is wearing a plaid shirt and holding the latest message documents in his hand. He walks out of the office, walks rushing towards the conference room, and yells in the office with the chaotic keyboard and phone ringing.

"The reporter who has no important interviews on hand, come in the conference room."

Perry White was the first to enter the conference room.

The staff in the office were quiet, and then continued to sound busy tones.

Louis Ryan is slim in shape, with a small suit hanging on the back of the chair, and her white shirt makes her look capable, generous and decent, and her bright eyes are charming.

She took a quick step and turned her office chair halfway, looking at Perry White entering the conference room, thinking with a bright look that after she had recently completed an actual visit to the Middle East battlefield, there were no more or less sporadic work, no more and no more challenging, and she was very free, so she stood up and walked towards the conference room.

Clark Kent, who has always been in charge of the sports sector, has black-framed glasses and an honest face. He raised his head to look at Louis, quickly packed up some tabletop things, and followed her into the conference room.

The colleague next to me was full of doubts, why are you a guy from the sports sector going to someone else's real-time meeting?

After several reporters walked into the conference room one after another, the door of the conference room was closed.

After glanced at the reporter who entered, Perry White ignored Clark's problem with the sports sector, and knocked on the documents on the table with his fist, making a heavy sound.

"A murder case occurred in the Rose Ballroom in Chinatown, with a total of 27 lives brutally killed. Some sources are suspected of gang revenge, but according to the information collected by foreign journalists, the matter is somewhat strange and involves discrimination? The Qing Gang in Chinatown, a well-known martial arts hall, may even be a case of a superpower crime."

"I hope this case will be reported as soon as possible..."

"I've picked it up."

Before Perry White could finish his words, Louis's eyes lit up and he took on the task.

Perry White glanced at Louis. This two-time Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist was naturally very trustworthy. He threw the desktop files over Louis' desktop. As soon as Louis picked up the files, his eyes were shining.

"Be careful." Perry White reminded that this unusual murder case, coupled with the fact that it is in Chinatown, is dangerous.

Louis said "hmm" and continued to look through the documents.

"White, let me do it." Clark's face under his black-framed glasses was sincere and honest. Seeing Louis looking at the documents, he couldn't help but worry in his heart, saying, "Chinatown is not a safe place."

Louis paused, covered the documents with his hands, looked at Clark, questioning: "Newbie, do you look down on me?"

Clark's scalp numb, and he was just a little worried.

After all, the two famous chaotic places in the Metropolitan City, suicide slums and Chinatown, are not good places, so how can he feel assured that Louis will go there?

Unexpectedly, Louis's words were sharp and he rose to the point of looking down on her.

"I don't, I just..." Clark was helpless, Louis had too strong personality.

Louis's mouth suddenly curled up and teased: "I know. But don't question a reporter who can come back alive from the battlefield." After that, she blinked at Clark teasingly, smiled and took the documents out of the conference room.

Everyone in the conference room stared at Clark with strange eyes.

Clark coughed and had to explain: "I'm just worried..."

“···········"
Chapter completed!