Livestream Conflict-solver: The Whole Internet Begs Me for Justice!

200: Three-masked heroes, attack the warehouse!“No, Big Brother, why is that fair?!”

“Brother Hu is called ’White Tiger,’ which sounds like an ancient divine beast, majestic and awe-inspiring! Why am I ’codename’? If I shout this codename out, the enemies won’t die of laughter, I’ll die of social embarrassment first!”

Zhang Ze leisurely adjusted the fit of his mask. The synthesized voice transmitted by the voice changer carried a mechanical lack of emotion.

“First, ’White Tiger’ is a constellation, not a divine beast, you illiterate. Second, this codename is a high-level summary and artistic sublimation of your personal characteristics.”

“What characteristics?” An Yang protested.

“The physique of a codename, the brain of a codename, add them up and you get five hundred. Round it up, and you’re a God of War.”

An Yang: “...”

He felt like he had been complimented, but also insulted, with the latter being the more dominant feeling.

[Ding! Host successfully dealt a Mental Critical Hit to an ally, earning the temporary title ’Mouth King,’ Taunt Effect +10%!]

[Thank you very much.] Zhang Ze rolled his eyes internally.

Chen Hu, codenamed ’White Tiger,’ had silently put on his mask and begun checking the simple gear he was carrying. He completely ignored An Yang’s lamentations, merely watching Zhang Ze with eyes visible through the red light strips, waiting for the next command.

Professional.

“Alright, stop stalling.” Zhang Ze stood up and patted An Yang’s shoulder. “The codename ’codename’ contains my deepest expectations for you; you must comprehend its meaning. Now, prepare to depart.”

An Yang tried to struggle one last time: “Big Brother, can I apply to change my codename? ’Azure Dragon’ would be fine too!”

“Denied.” Zhang Ze’s reply was sharp and decisive. “Say one more word, and you’ll be called ’2B’.”

An Yang immediately shut up.

Compared to that, ’codename’ seemed... rather numerical.

The three men finished preparing and left the luxurious presidential suite.

Standing at the magnificent entrance of the Beverly Hills Hilton Hotel, the three men, wearing all-black tactical masks and exuding an aura of ”keep away,” were extremely conspicuous.

The attendants at the door instinctively took half a step back, their hands subtly reaching for their walkie-talkies.

An Yang was slightly nervous, leaning down to ask: “Big Brother, how are we getting there? Should we steal a car?”

[Why is this kid’s thinking becoming increasingly criminal?]

Zhang Ze ignored him, pulled out his phone, and skillfully opened a ride-hailing app.

[Destination: Near the Rust Warehouse District, intersection of Fifth Avenue and Pine Street.]

[Vehicle Type: Comfort.]

[Click to call.]

In less than thirty seconds, the phone screen showed that a driver named Carlos, operating a Toyota Camry, was on his way, estimated to arrive in three minutes.

An Yang and Chen Hu were dumbfounded.

Big Brother, we are going to execute a highly dangerous secret infiltration mission, not taking a day trip to Universal Studios!

You’re taking a taxi?

And it’s the goddamn Comfort type?!

“Big Brother, this... isn’t this a bit too casual?” An Yang stammered.

“This is called blending in with the masses.” Zhang Ze put his phone back in his pocket and lectured them in a tone that implied, ”You are still too young.” ”Especially at times like this, you must act like ordinary citizens. Think about it: a black armored SUV speeding down the street in the middle of the night—aren’t you afraid the FBI won’t find you?”

An Yang nodded, seeming to understand yet not fully grasping the concept.

Chen Hu was also deep in thought.

It seemed... there was some logic to it.

Soon, a white Camry pulled up in front of the three men. The driver, Carlos, was a friendly Mexican uncle. Seeing three customers wearing bizarre masks, he only paused for a moment before flashing a professional smile.

“Good evening, gentlemen! Going to a masquerade ball? Your outfits are awesome!”

Zhang Ze used the voice changer to emit a hoarse, synthesized voice: “Something like that, a theme party.”

He opened the door and got into the passenger seat, while Chen Hu and An Yang squeezed into the back.

“Buckle up, guys!” Uncle Carlos stepped on the gas, and the Camry smoothly merged into the nighttime traffic of Los Angeles.

Cheerful Latin music was playing in the car. Uncle Carlos hummed along as he drove, and the atmosphere was momentarily quite festive.

An Yang was restless in the back seat. He felt that everything was too surreal. He could even smell the strong, mixed scent of cologne and corn tortillas emanating from the driver through the gaps in his mask.

Meanwhile, Zhang Ze leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes.

To an outsider, he was simply resting his eyes.

In reality, a crystal-clear, real-time satellite map was projected onto his retina.

[’Gods View’ is now active.]

[Target Area: Rust Warehouse District.]

[Performing dynamic analysis...]

Clusters of red heat signatures, representing human bodies, were clearly moving on the map.

[Twelve peripheral patrol sentries, two per group, fixed patrol route, intersecting once every fifteen minutes.]

[Two sniper points, located on the roofs of Warehouse Three and Warehouse Seven, one person at each.]

[Inside the central main warehouse, twenty heat signatures. Sixteen are active, four are gathered in a small room, suspected to be playing cards.]

[Target individual ’Dr. Chen Jing,’ located in the main warehouse basement, vital signs stable, but with slight emotional fluctuations.]

Zhang Ze reviewed the three-dimensional structural map of the entire warehouse district and the personnel distribution over and over in his mind, simulating every detail.

[System, drone swarm status.]

[Dear, your ’micro smart attack swarm’ is charged to 120%, status excellent, ready to fight for your two hundred thousand fan favor value!]

[...]

The ride lasted forty minutes.

The Camry stopped two blocks away from the target area.

“Gentlemen, that’s the industrial zone ahead. It’s not safe at night, so I’ll drop you off here.” Uncle Carlos said warmly.

“Thanks.” Zhang Ze paid via his phone and casually added a fifty-dollar tip.

The three men got out. The white Camry turned around and drove away, the cheerful Latin music fading into the distance.

The surroundings instantly fell silent, leaving only the mournful sound of the night wind blowing through the abandoned buildings.

The street before them was dilapidated, most of the streetlights were broken, and the air was filled with a mixed scent of rust and garbage. This was the other side of Los Angeles’s prosperity, a forgotten corner.

“White Tiger, codename, check your gear, prepare to work.” Zhang Ze’s voice no longer held the previous jesting tone.

“Roger.”

“Roger, Big Brother!”

Zhang Ze raised his head, looking toward the dark cluster of warehouses in the distance. The red light strips on his mask traced a cold, sharp line.

“My little darlings, time to get to work.”

With a thought.

Hundreds of black metal bodies, only the size of a fingernail, silently flew out of the compartment in his specialized tactical backpack, gathering into a small, inconspicuous dark cloud in the night, then quietly flying toward the Rust Warehouse District.

[Physical Persuasion Service is now online.]

On the roof of Warehouse Three, a sentry holding a sniper rifle was yawning out of boredom. Suddenly, he felt what seemed like a mosquito bite on his neck, and instinctively reached out to swat it.

Before his hand could rise, a strong electric current instantly spread throughout his body. He didn’t even manage a groan; his body went limp and he collapsed onto the ground, twitching violently a few times before becoming completely still.

A mechanical bee flew up from his neck and disappeared into the night.

The same scene played out simultaneously in various corners of the warehouse district.

The twelve peripheral patrol sentries and two snipers were all silently taken down in less than a minute.

“Perimeter clear.” Zhang Ze’s synthesized voice sounded in their earphones. “Prepare to breach the main warehouse.”

Leading Chen Hu and An Yang, he moved like three black shadows, swiftly crossing the abandoned railroad tracks and piles of debris, arriving at the side entrance of the main warehouse.