Chapter 10
Central City Police Headquarters, Central District — 7th Floor.
Ding.
The elevator doors slid open smoothly.
Leading the way was a man with ash-brown hair, dressed in a well-tailored black suit. His features were sharp and deep-set, with a high nose bridge and slightly sunken eyes that carried a gloomy, hawk-like intensity. That piercing gaze made him nearly unstoppable when interrogating suspects.
This natural aura of dominance had earned him impressive achievements, but it also made many of his colleagues in the department feel instinctively wary.
Al Swan strode into the office area, passing the large mural above the elevator. The mural depicted ordinary American working-class people, with the words "Freedom," "Justice," "Equality," and "Peace" carved prominently across it — a constant reminder to every officer heading out on duty. The Central City Police Department existed to serve and protect this city.
Al Swan's lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes blazing with barely contained anger. From the moment the elevator doors opened, he stormed straight toward the Police Chief's office. Anyone who saw him could instantly feel the fury radiating off this star detective.
The entire office fell silent for a moment. Colleagues — whether in suits or uniforms, holding files or coffee — paused their work when they saw Al Swan's angry expression. They began whispering quietly to the people next to them.
"Who pissed off Al this time?"
"He just got back from vacation and he's already this mad?"
"Did he lose a suspect?"
"No, it's about the Special Task Force."
"Headquarters didn't let Swan join the team."
"Damn, even Al couldn't get into that metahuman unit?"
"Then who the hell can get in?"
"Whoever it is, they're screwed."
"I hope they can survive Al's wrath."
Almost everyone in the department had already guessed the truth. Hearing their whispers only made Al Swan's face darken further.
Fuming, he reached the Chief's office door. He stopped, took a deep breath, and glanced back at the whispering officers. The moment he looked over, everyone quickly pretended to return to work.
Swallowing his frustration, Al raised his hand and knocked lightly on the glass panel of the ornate wooden door. Through the blinds, he could vaguely see the Chief working at his desk. Suppressing his resentment, he announced:
"It's me, Al Swan."
"Come in," a steady voice replied from inside.
The moment he received permission, Al twisted the doorknob and entered without hesitation.
The office was filled with case files yet retained a classical elegance. Mark Buckler, the Police Chief, was a slightly overweight, prosperous-looking middle-aged man. He appeared amiable but carried a quiet authority. His intelligent, shrewd eyes were framed by gold-rimmed glasses, giving him a serious, no-nonsense presence.
"Al, I already told you — you cannot join the Metahuman Special Response Team."
Mark Buckler looked up from the files on his desk. Through his gold-rimmed glasses, he stared at Al Swan and spoke with absolute finality.
Normally, he didn't need to involve himself in most cases. With talented officers like Al Swan and Bert on the force, ordinary crimes rarely escaped their notice. He usually stayed in his office and waited for their reports.
Central City was not as chaotic as Gotham. It was an orderly, bright city. While crime existed, the department had managed to maintain a relatively stable balance under the protection of its officers.
Of course, this peace was also the result of Mark Buckler's decades of careful planning and cooperation with the city government.
"Mark, I don't accept this," Al Swan said. He tugged at his tie to loosen it slightly, his voice laced with anger. "My achievements in the CCPD are obvious to everyone."
"Over the past three years, I've been the undisputed star detective of this department."
"Four years ago — the Golden Vault Heist."
"Two years ago — the kidnapping of the Jester family's youngest son."
"One year ago — the Central City Bank robbery."
"The locked-room murder case, the gang drug lab raid… I solved every single one of them."
"Other colleagues contributed, but you can't deny that I was the one who unraveled the clues from layers of mysteries and led the team to success!"
Al Swan stared directly at Mark, his gloomy eyes radiating intense pressure.
"I know, Al," Chief Buckler replied calmly. He closed the file in his hands, picked up a white porcelain coffee cup, lifted the lid, and gently blew on the steaming black coffee. The rich, aromatic scent slowly filled the room.
"Then why can't I join the Metahuman Special Response Team?" Al Swan demanded. He placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward, his hawk-like gaze locked onto his superior without any politeness.
He had always believed his boss was a capable, intelligent, and dignified leader who would allow him to fully display his talents within the CCPD.
But today, this smart and decisive leader had disappointed him.
"Swan, your abilities are undeniable," Mark said. He took a sip of the strong black coffee, the bitter taste helping him stay alert. His tone remained steady.
"But you are too arrogant and aggressive. Your string of successes has made you lose sight of your own limits."
Mark continued, "These are crimes that go beyond what ordinary humans can handle. Neither you nor I can confront such threats directly. In the future, we will inevitably become the ones who clean up after these battles."
As the leader responsible for the safety of Central City, Mark's mind was clear and far-sighted. He had seen the signs: Batman appearing in Gotham, Superman — the Man of Steel — in Metropolis, and Wonder Woman's astonishing Amazonian combat power. More and more superheroes and metahuman criminals were emerging across the world.
Recent metahuman crimes in Central City only confirmed it — extraordinary individuals were becoming more common.
This situation had created a sense of urgency for Chief Buckler. To protect the city, he needed to establish a special task force capable of handling metahuman threats before the damage became too great.
Ordinary officers were simply no match for such beings.
And Al Swan… was still just an ordinary officer.
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