Chapter 19
Inside Room 503 of the Leyton Hotel.
The dim yellow sunlight from outside was mostly blocked by the heavy curtains, allowing only a single vertical beam of golden light to pierce into the room. It illuminated faint dust particles floating lazily in the air.
The rest of the room remained shrouded in shadow.
The air carried the stuffy warmth typical of dusk. In a dark corner, Alex sat motionless. The lenses of his glasses caught the thin ray of light. He quietly removed them and slipped them into his pocket.
Hidden in the darkness, Alex sat with perfect posture — back straight, waist aligned, expression blank. His breathing was slow and shallow, perfectly synchronized with the room's airflow, making him blend seamlessly into the environment.
His hands rested lightly on his thighs. Eyes closed, he fine-tuned his body's coordination, preparing for a single, decisive strike.
The gloomy room swallowed his strikingly handsome features.
In the darkness, he resembled a ferocious beast lying in wait.
...
The dusk grew darker. A large moon had already risen in another part of the sky. Once the sun fully set, it would cast its soft glow across the city.
Today there were no clouds. The sky blazed with colorful sunset hues as a cool breeze blew, swirling the fallen autumn leaves.
The streets had grown much quieter. After all, this was the Lower District. Even in its relatively safer areas, people still felt uneasy after dark.
Only the sound of Danton Black's footsteps echoed on the empty street.
He walked toward the Leyton Hotel with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his brown trench coat, pressing the fabric tightly against his body. He clenched his fists inside the coat and occasionally glanced up at his room.
The curtains were still slightly parted, just as he had left them. No silhouette was visible.
If someone had been inside, he would have been terrified.
Seeing the room empty brought a sigh of relief, yet it also filled him with anxiety.
His mind was torn between fear and anticipation — the classic psychology of someone who had committed a major crime and was terrified of being caught.
This was the first time he had done something on this scale. Thirty-five million dollars in stolen goods was more money than he could ever dream of in a normal lifetime. The adrenaline rush mixed with constant fear of the police left him on edge.
He even had fleeting thoughts of abandoning the loot in the hotel. If he were caught, the legal consequences might not be too severe.
Deep down, he was afraid of the law, yet he also craved more. He felt he was now above ordinary people.
Even though he had walked this route many times, he still kept looking up at his window. He desperately wanted to avoid detection, yet he also dreamed of spending the money lavishly and becoming a "rich man" who no longer had to worry about finances.
Then he remembered his superhuman ability — the power to create duplicates. It filled him with confidence and ignited his desires, making him feel superior to ordinary humans.
Thinking of this, his weary, stubbled face regained a trace of arrogance.
"I should move to a five-star hotel. Get custom designer clothes. Fix up my appearance. I'm actually quite handsome. There's no need to keep hiding like a rat…"
Danton Black thought of many things. He deserved more. He deserved to live better than ordinary people! He was a superhuman with special powers and should enjoy a superior life.
He also needed a few models, a five-star suite, a British female personal butler, and…
Suddenly—
Vroooom…
A black Ford Mercury — heavily modified, aggressive, and reinforced — roared down the street at 180 km/h. Its thick black tires crushed the fallen autumn leaves. The engine's aggressive growl and the sharp headlights slicing through the dim road made it clear the driver was in a hurry.
Danton Black's heart tightened. His pleasant fantasies vanished instantly. His hands clenched harder inside his coat as he stiffly turned his head toward the oncoming vehicle.
The black Ford took a sharp turn, tires screeching loudly. Danton's heart rose into his throat. He narrowed his eyes and saw a man with ash-blond hair in the driver's seat. The man's face was cold and stern, his hawk-like eyes locked onto him with predatory intensity. A chill ran down Danton's spine.
"I've been found!"
Even though Danton had little experience with the police, he could tell this imposing man was no ordinary officer. Those sharp eyes were definitely aimed at him, putting immense pressure on his chest.
He stood frozen in place, gaze locked with the driver's. The Ford sped straight toward him. When it seemed like it would hit him, Danton almost created duplicates to escape.
At the last second, the car drifted sharply beside him, tires leaving a perfect black arc on the road and kicking up a storm of leaves. The headlights stabbed directly at him, illuminating every inch of his body and leaving him nowhere to hide.
Al Swan quickly exited the vehicle, using the open door as cover. He drew his M9 pistol, flicked off the safety, and aimed it at Danton Black.
"Danton Black, hands up!" Al Swan barked, eyes sharp as blades.
He hadn't expected such luck. After intercepting Alex's query in the Information Department, his sharp instincts told him this Danton Black was Multiple. He had rushed over immediately.
Traffic during rush hour had slowed him slightly, and he had taken some back roads. He arrived just in time — right as Danton was returning to the hotel.
Blocking the suspect here meant the credit would almost certainly be his. He might even use this to pull down the newly appointed Inspector and take the captain position for himself.
Thinking of this, a hint of excitement flashed in Al Swan's piercing gaze.
Danton Black trembled under that sharp stare. The fear and anxiety that had been tormenting him suddenly vanished the moment he faced Al Swan.
He had expected to be terrified — running like a stray dog, hunted by the police.
But he discovered he wasn't nearly as afraid as he had imagined.
His heart suddenly felt strangely light.
The transition from "criminal fearing capture" to "I am the criminal" happened in an instant.
With a relaxed smile, Danton slowly pulled his hands out of his coat pockets and spread them open.
"Officer, you caught me!"
As he spoke, his body began to blur and vibrate. Starting from his face, his entire form, including his clothes, started duplicating.
Al Swan's expression hardened. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The gunshot shattered the quiet street. At that exact moment, the sun finally sank below the horizon, and the moon began to glow softly.
Al Swan's aim was excellent — the bullet struck Danton Black directly in the face.
But Al Swan's heart sank.
The figure before him continued to blur. One Danton Black collapsed to his knees and dissolved into acidic liquid, releasing wisps of smoke.
In the next instant, dozens of Danton Blacks appeared from the original position and rapidly multiplied.
In the time it took for one gunshot, Danton had already created over thirty duplicates.
Thirty or forty pairs of eyes stared at Al Swan. The duplicates filled the street, all wearing the same mocking smile.
"Thank you, officer!"
"Hahahaha…"
With wild laughter, Danton created another seventy or eighty duplicates in the blink of an eye. Laughing arrogantly, they scattered in different directions, dashing toward various alleys.
Al Swan's face turned extremely ugly.
At the same time, inside the dark Room 503, Alex's eyes snapped open. A cold, sharp light pierced through the darkness.
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