Tokyo: My Superpower Refreshes Every Week-Chapter 660 - 658: To the Utopia of Dreams

Sixteenth Street Headquarter is located on Sixteenth Avenue in Westchester City.

The main base is an old six-story apartment building, with parts of the outer walls peeling off, showing its age.

The surface is covered with rebellious graffiti full of hippie style.

Outside the building gathers over twenty sturdy young men with fair skin, who joined the lowest ranks of Sixteenth Street with aspirations of rising up, to intimidate ordinary people on the outside.

They would rather take a detour than choose to cross this street.

Their status is low, but their attack power is not weak at all.

In this special time, each of them carries a gun in their pocket.

If any African American members from Manhattan come over, they will be judged as an enemy, and they will open fire directly.

This is the order given to them from above.

The elites and core members of Sixteenth Street stay inside the building, mostly residing on the third floor.

Below the third floor are arms, illicit drugs, and children bought by Sixteenth Street and Victoria Company.

There are both boys and girls.

As for the Drug Girl type, which requires extra money, Sixteenth Street usually doesn't proactively get involved, but merely provides corresponding services when requested by customers.

They won't do such things without specific requests.

...

The room on the west side of the building's top floor is the bedroom of Sixteenth Street's boss, Lyle Asha.

He stands at 1.98 meters tall, with a robust physique, seemingly able to kill a bull with a single punch.

Six in the morning is not enough time for the boss to start working.

Lyle is lying on the bed, sound asleep.

On either side of him are two blonde, fair-skinned female college students.

These young, rebellious, and inexperienced female college students are easy to lure, often needing no money, just a display of power to make them willingly come and dance belly dances.

Rumble~

Hearing an unusual noise, Lyle gets up.

Recently, small disputes between Sixteenth Street and gangs in Manhattan have been ongoing, but no actions have taken place, as someone higher up is holding them back.

The police chief doesn't want any egregious incidents breaking out in his jurisdiction.

But outsiders often don't follow local rules.

Lyle has been worried about a surprise attack from the other side, he leaves the two girls, walking briskly to the window.

Through the glass, he sees a military helicopter flying towards them.

A mission?

Lyle doesn't think this helicopter is here to provoke them for Manhattan.

He scratches his head, noticing the helicopter is approaching the house.

Could it be coming directly at him?

Lyle dismisses the thought quickly, knowing Mr. William has Sixteenth Street's back.

If the government truly wanted to take action, they would have notified him in advance; it would never affect Sixteenth Street.

Wanting to go back to sleep, a rope dangles down in front of the window.

Lyle's pupils widen.

At that moment, he instinctively senses something is wrong, turns around, his leg muscles tauten, exploding like a tightly wound spring.

He bolts to the bedside.

Lyle wants to open the drawer to retrieve his gun.

Rat-a-tat, a light crack sounds, bullets shatter the glass, bringing a deadly sound.

Lyle immediately changes direction, quickly lunging toward the door, as a series of bullet holes appear in the wall.

"Ah!" The two blonde women on the bed scream, but it's more of a fervor than fear.

Exciting scenes like in movies are their dreams; seeing this, they feel dying is worth it!

They long for the enemy to be more brutal, to ravage them violently!

Leaving them soaking wet.

...

In a flash, Lyle reaches the door, trying to call out his subordinates for reinforcements.

An object shaped like a grenade arcs down in front of him, the shooter's actions preempting his move.

Lyle doesn't see a safety pin, cold sweat immediately breaks out, he slaps it away to the wall, as a large amount of white smoke billows out.

It's a smoke bomb; he breathes a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, a fierce wind strikes from behind, preventing him from opening the door, his left foot rotates, he delivers a right roundhouse kick backward.

It's at this moment he sees what his attacker looks like.

The man is dressed in a deep blue uniform, prominently displaying the emblem and badge of the New York Police Department.

Young-looking, with sharp eyes, a combat style that is fierce.

In the face of Lyle's roundhouse kick, the man doesn't even dodge, instead, he charges forward swiftly, launching a close-range punch.

Bang!

The man's fist strikes Lyle's chest before the roundhouse kick lands.

Lyle feels as if his chest has been smashed hard by a rampaging bull.

"Ugh."

His heart seems to stop at that moment.

The powerful kick also softens, blocked by the man's elbow, who then presses forward, shoulder slamming into Lyle's chest forcefully.

"Wow!"

Lyle spits a mouthful of blood; his tall physique loses resistance, sliding down the door.

"Boss."

"You're dead if they come in."

"Don't let anyone come in!"

Lyle turned his head and roared, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, glaring fiercely at him: "Good lad, you've got guts. What's your name?"

The other person stood tall, and calmly said, "Aaron Bushnett of the New York Police Department.

Lyle, you're under arrest."

"Ha ha."

Lyle let out a disdainful laugh and said, "You actually said I am under arrest, do you know who backs me?"

"Of course I know. Where do you store the information on your contacts with former President William?"

Lyle's smile vanished, his expression became suspicious and uncertain. Someone actually dared to do this to Mr. William, who is this person?

As he was in disbelief, Aaron didn't hold back, he stomped on Lyle's chest and said coldly, "A person like you couldn't possibly have no record of dealings with William, hand over your records willingly."

"Dream on."

Lyle shook his head, handing over those records would be a fate worse than death.

He clung to his charges, and at most, he'd be sentenced to decades.

With his physique and connections, he'd live well in prison, no need to be a blemished witness.

Aaron was well aware of this.

He didn't expect the other to willingly confess. A fierce punch landed on Lyle's face, then he grabbed his blonde hair and brutally dragged him across the floor.

Aaron held no mercy for scum like this.

The suffering this guy endured was nothing compared to the suffering he inflicted on others.

Aaron punched Lyle's right palm hard and crushed his little finger bone, growling: "Speak! Where's your information hidden?!"

With nerves connected to every finger, Lyle's brain lost all thinking ability, he begged: "I'll tell, I'll tell, it's all in my computer."

"Password!"

Aaron clamped down again on his broken little finger.

Lyle wailed: "Ah, ah, 354712."

Although people think they can withstand torture, reality proves that ninety-nine percent of humans lack such iron will.

...

"I've already transmitted the data to Borg, let him take it back."

"Aaron, can you handle this alone?"

"Mayor David, don't worry, I'm not that easy to kill."

Aaron smiled, as if he wasn't surrounded in layers on Sixteenth Street.

To ensure swift action, he had proposed earlier that they take an armed helicopter to assault this building.

A lone king capture, leaving no room for the enemy to react.

The risk was great, but the time gained would leave the people behind unable to respond.

"I'll soon send people over to support you, hang on until then."

"Yes."

Aaron smiled increasingly happily.

Nearby, Lyle glared with a mad expression and said, "You madman, think you're shooting a hero movie in Hollywood? Think catching me wipes out the darkness?

You'll die, I'll die, everyone will be killed by Mr. William.

No one can save you, no matter heaven or earth!!"

"William was already killed by Dio."

Lyle froze, unable to believe his ears.

Aaron's expression was calm as he said, "Times are changing, the darkness of the United States' rulers can't be unshaken anymore."

This became increasingly certain in Aaron's heart after he arrived in New York City.

Because walking on New York's streets, Aaron didn't need to worry about someone randomly pulling a gun, nor would he find used needles on the ground.

People became harmonious and helpful, skin color turned unimportant, all ethnic groups found common ground despite differences.

This was Aaron's utopia.

Aaron, twenty-five, born into a military family, chose to follow his father and grandfather's footsteps, joining the military to serve the country upon coming of age.

Only after enlisting did Aaron find the United States wasn't what he imagined.

Due to connections with the Air Force Intelligence Department, he accessed many military high-level scandals.

Today's United States didn't need protection; rather, it needed restraint from threatening other countries.

All that Eastern Great Nation, Russia threat theory, Syria, Afghanistan—were fabricated lies by those at the top.

The fact is, the United States was threatening most countries worldwide.

All Aaron's information indicated that the United States constantly conducted infiltration activities in other nations.

Some were using ideology to wage wars.

Some added fuel to the fire, took things out of context, spreading mad rumors to pollute public discourse and control the youth.

Especially regarding the Eastern Great Nation's discourse.

Turning black into white, reversing truths, each piece of information plunged Aaron into despair; the nation he wished to protect turned out to be the epitome of evil.

His father, grandfather, and himself were all silent accomplices to those wars of sin.

Aaron once wanted to retire early, but how to save his beloved United States from the mire of sin was unclear.

As he handled intelligence, he was too aware of the United States' media atmosphere.

Free speech was all nonsense.

Lost in confusion, he became embroiled in Vincent's incident, then, despite having done nothing, was forced to retire by Air Force One.

To be honest, Aaron needed to thank Nett's inner distrust as it led Aaron to find the true path.

He adjusted his police hat, eyes resolute, only if Mayor David became president could this nation be guided onto the right path.

Aaron was willing to fight for that goal!