Chapter 30
New Expo Hall, on the main stage.
Martin Stein's face was flushed with excitement, his passion overflowing. Camera flashes lit him up as he spoke eloquently and endlessly about his understanding of controlled nuclear fusion.
"From ancient times to the present, humanity has always strived for energy. When our ancestors first obtained fire from a tree struck by lightning, and the moment humans learned to create fire by rubbing sticks together and control that flame in their own hands…"
Suddenly.
Martin Stein's passionate, glowing expression froze.
"Sir, based on the fabric analysis and comparison from the surveillance footage, we can confirm that the clothes Danton Black is wearing are real fabric."
The reporter was smart. He didn't say "this is the real body," only that the clothes were genuine fabric and not mimicked. He had only been ordered to compare the clothing material, nothing more.
Alex was satisfied. Unless Danton Black deliberately dressed his duplicates in real clothes, this had to be the original body.
Click click click click click…
The entire New Expo Hall fell silent in an instant. The only sound was the continuous flashing of cameras. Martin Stein's hand, raised high in passionate gesture, remained frozen in the air, giving the audience the strange feeling that time had stopped on this great man.
The spectators looked at each other in confusion, their eyes filled with questions. They frowned, hoping the person next to them could explain what was happening.
They initially thought Martin Stein had simply paused to take a sip of water. After all, everyone had seen how excited he was during the speech. No one blamed him for being emotional — if they had achieved such a monumental feat, they would be even more excited.
But the pause lasted a little too long, long enough for the audience to start feeling uneasy.
Through the reading glasses, Alex's eyes had already spotted more than a hundred of Danton Black's duplicates, all armed with various firearms, surging aggressively toward the main entrance of the New Expo Hall.
Fabric analysis began running in his lenses. Red targeting boxes, like those on a fighter jet's HUD, swept rapidly over the army of duplicates rushing toward the doors.
Clothes created by skin mimicry had a slightly stiff quality compared to real fabric. The human eye might struggle to notice it, but the pre-programmed computer analysis revealed every flaw — the unnatural way the clothes moved, the rigid flapping of sleeves, the way they clung too perfectly to the body with every motion.
"One hundred and thirty-two duplicates of Multiple."
In an instant, the number appeared in his earpiece.
All the figures approaching the New Expo Hall were duplicates.
Alex stopped his speech. The hand he had raised in feigned passion slowly lowered. His expression turned calm. He slightly lifted his chin and looked toward the entrance, then issued a single command.
"Activate the sonic brainwave device! Destroy them."
Bang!
One of Multiple's duplicates kicked open the main door. He raised his M4A1 toward the ceiling, his face twisted with wild arrogance and madness, a condescending smile on his lips.
The duplicates poured in. Before most of the audience could even turn their heads or the reporters could fully react, the stream of duplicates had already formed a surrounding wall of bodies, guns raised and pointed at the crowd.
In the Starbucks, the real Danton Black took a calm sip of his cappuccino and smiled faintly.
"Ahhh…"
Panic erupted throughout the venue. Audience members jumped to their feet. Some shouted defiantly at the duplicates. Others smartly crouched behind their chairs. A few remained frozen in their seats, their brains still struggling to process what was happening.
Reporters went into a frenzy, their camera flashes firing nonstop as they desperately captured every second, photographing the dizzying sight of so many identical figures.
If not for the fact that the duplicates were holding many different firearms, the audience might have thought they were seeing double or having hallucinations.
How could there be over a hundred identical twins?
Bang bang bang bang…
"Hahahaha…"
The lead duplicate pointed his gun at the ceiling. Flames erupted from the muzzle as bullets slammed into the roof, sending small clouds of dust drifting down. The sudden gunfire instantly silenced the panicked crowd. The only ones still making noise were the fearless reporters, whose flashes continued to illuminate Danton Black's madly laughing face.
This moment — seeing the city's elites cowering at his feet — filled Danton Black with insane delight. It perfectly satisfied his fragile, sensitive, and inferior inner self.
Danton Black's attitude toward the reporters was shockingly indulgent. He allowed them to photograph him from every angle, capturing every heroic pose. He even permitted the Central City television station to broadcast live, letting the cameras focus on his handsome and extraordinary face to make up for the spotlight that Martin Stein had stolen from him a few days earlier.
Viewers across Central City who had been watching Martin Stein's speech were suddenly stunned. A groundbreaking lecture by what was supposed to be one of the greatest scientists of the century had been hijacked — criminals had stormed the venue.
At that moment, a man drinking at home froze with his glass halfway to his lips, staring blankly at the TV.
A housewife walking through her living room to get laundry stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the live broadcast in shock.
Is live TV this crazy now? Broadcasting a crime scene?
Back at the venue.
Anyone who wasn't a reporter could only obediently crouch with their hands on their heads, waiting for Multiple's judgment.
The only person still standing — and not a reporter — was Alex on the main stage. His straight spine and the butterfly tie at his neck stubbornly expressed the unyielding pride of a scientist.
"Professor Martin, your great achievement hasn't even begun, and I've already destroyed it!"
"Is that so?"
Alex's face remained calm, showing no panic at the current situation. His tranquil, indifferent gaze made Multiple extremely uncomfortable.
This was not the reaction he wanted.
"Kneel!"
Multiple's face darkened as he pointed the M4A1 at Martin Stein's leg. Everyone could imagine what would happen if he didn't obey — the criminal would not hesitate to pull the trigger and physically force him to his knees.
His expression was terrifyingly serious. He wasn't joking. The ferocious, vicious light in his eyes burst forth, visible even on the live Central City broadcast, showing the audience just how cruel and merciless a criminal without any moral boundaries could be.
On the live feed, Multiple's savage, jealous glare was frightening. It looked far more real and brutal than any actor's performance, making viewers involuntarily clench their hearts and hold their breath.
In comparison, Martin Stein's calm expression earned admiration while also stirring pity and worry for him.
There were over a hundred armed criminals!
But the unexpected often arrived faster than Danton Black's cruelty.
The lead Danton Black's vision suddenly blurred. Darkness seemed to close in from all sides. His ears began ringing violently. Inside his head, it felt as if a chainsaw at full power was cutting through his brain — sawing madly, the jagged teeth tearing into his skull.
Splash…
In an instant, the lead duplicate dissolved into acidic liquid. Wisps of smoke rose from where he had stood. The M4A1 slipped from his hand and fell onto the soft carpet with almost no sound.
But the continuous sound of many guns hitting the floor was still quite spectacular.
"Begin the operation."
Not all of Multiple's duplicates dissolved immediately. More than sixty of them collapsed to the ground, unable to hold their weapons. They clutched their heads, screaming in agony as if their brains were about to explode, their eyes bloodshot and bulging.
Alex, like a cold executioner, gave the order.
From among the crouched audience and the frenzied photographers, nearly fifty people suddenly stood up and moved with swift precision. Just like in a movie where ordinary-looking pedestrians on a busy street suddenly reveal themselves as hidden police officers, they sprang into action so quickly that no one could react.
Without hesitation, the officers who had been disguised among the crowd drew their pistols from their waists and opened fire on the duplicates writhing in pain on the carpet.
Gunshots rang out in rapid succession. Within ten seconds, the shooting stopped.
There were no more duplicates left in the hall.
Alex's eyes swept across all the pools of acidic liquid.
"Sir, the Danton Black at No. 5433 New Expo East Road, inside the Starbucks, has not disappeared!"
Alex strode toward the left-side backstage area. In a spot hidden from the cameras and the crowd's line of sight, he slipped behind the main stage.
"Surround and eliminate!"
"Team at 5 o'clock direction, evacuate civilians. Upon sighting Danton Black, shoot on sight!"
Alex shouted the orders, his footsteps rapid and resolute, like an unquestionable dictator or a steadfast general marching forward with decisive force.
In his lenses, the Starbucks surveillance feed immediately appeared. Danton Black was clutching his head and screaming in agony.
"Bring my motorcycle out!"
Alex yanked off the butterfly tie at his neck and tossed it aside. He tore open the top two buttons of his white shirt, deactivated the projection mask, and revealed his true face. With every step, his body grew taller with a series of cracks. The middle-aged paunch shrank away, revealing his original chiseled abs. The tailcoat strained against his height and muscles, on the verge of tearing.
Alex shrugged off the tailcoat and threw it to the side. Still wearing the dyed white hair, he walked out the back door of the New Expo Hall. An officer had already positioned his motorcycle for him.
With an expressionless face, Alex swung his leg over the Lightning motorcycle. Under the salutes of the surrounding officers, he activated the nitrous boost. The exhaust pipes erupted with hot blue flames. The tires screamed against the ground, producing thick smoke as the bike shot forward like a rocket.
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