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🕑 Added 2025-08-17 15:58:32 +0000 UTCChapter 356 Snart's Master Plan: A Cold Calculation
In a dimly lit room, Snart, ever the strategist, laid out his plan to two silent accomplices. "When I was just a kid, my grandpa used to take my sister and me to this diner, a real greasy spoon, you know? The food was truly awful, the worst I've ever tasted, but the view? Unbeatable. You could see most of Central City from there."
"I still go there, not for the food, but to listen to their police scanner. Forty banks in Central City, and every single one gets a police response in under 60 seconds. That's why we're targeting an armored car this time. Once it's on the road, after a 911 call, it'll take the cops 182 seconds to get there. We grab that Kondak Diamond and we're gone before they even show their faces."
He looked up, meeting the gaze of one of his crew. "But something... something got there in under a minute. And stopped us."
His accomplice gritted his teeth, silent, remembering the chaotic scene. "You panicked," Snart's voice, devoid of warmth, cut through the man's thoughts. "You weren't cool, you lost your head. You got up and put three rounds into that cop. We had a rule: no shooting cops or security unless absolutely necessary. We don't need a hothead on this team."
"Screw you, Snart!" The thug's response was crude, causing Snart's eyes to turn to ice. He clearly didn't appreciate the retort. "Did you hear me? I said screw you! I never liked your whole intricate plan, or your weird obsession with countdowns. Who the hell has this many rules for a robbery?!"
"I'm out!"
Bang!
A single, clean shot through the cursing robber's head. Snart calmly pocketed his gun, addressing the corpse with a chilling finality: "Alright. You want out? Then don't bother coming back."
The two remaining crew members watched, their blood running cold. They hadn't expected Snart to so casually dispatch one of their own—or rather, a subordinate. Any words they might have considered saying died in their throats.
The Eye-Witness Account: A Diner Confession
Meanwhile, at a food cart, an excited bystander, Cody, was regaling Joe and Barry with his vivid account of the robbery. "You should have seen it! Four of them, a proper crew. Two on motorcycles, one driving a crane, and another riding shotgun in the crane. The two cops in that armored car? They didn't stand a chance. No way they could fight back."
"If I hadn't been just chilling by the side of the road with my street cart, I would've missed the whole thrilling show!"
"Alright, alright, that's enough," Barry interjected, cutting off Cody before he could launch into another tangent. "Let's stick to the case. What happened next?"
"Okay, so the two guys on motorcycles smoothly hooked the crane's chains onto the armored car, one on each side. Then, with a lift of the crane arms, the back of that armored car went airborne! All four wheels off the ground, the front of the car scraping sparks on the road. It didn't get far before it stopped."
"At that point, the officers inside had already called for backup," Joe noted, jotting down some details. "But because they were hit on the road, it took us a while to get there."
"So, they planned for that too?" Barry asked.
"If we're going by your... ahem, by Old Ma's account, and if that robber really was Snart, then yes, that's his usual M.O. He plans every minute, down to the second. If the time's up, the crime stops. That's why we can never catch him."
"Wait," Cody interjected, "He's a repeat offender?"
"A seasoned one. A well-known criminal mastermind. Hits once every six months, and every time it's a major score. Remember that gold heist six months ago?"
"Holy cow, that was him too?!"
"Yeah... but let's stick to the current case for now. Your testimony could be crucial."
"Alright, alright... Anyway, in the first half, those guys were slick. Hooking up, stopping the car. The two on motorcycles knocked out the driver and passenger side officers. Seamless, the whole thing. Oh, though one of them seemed a bit nervous; he actually aimed his submachine gun directly at a cop, but Snart yelled at him to stop."
"Doesn't surprise me. Snart rarely kills officers. In fact, he rarely kills anyone. Probably has something to do with his crooked cop father."
"His dad also used to beat him and his sister, though. I would've thought he'd hate cops even more."
"Maybe he hates bad cops more. Keep going, Old Ma."
"Oh, then Snart, carrying some kind of storage tank, sprayed the back door of the armored car for a bit. That white mist looked like liquid nitrogen because the metal door quickly became brittle, cracked, warped, and then was just smashed open. The sound was like ice breaking, a really clear crackle."
Barry interjected, "You're an expert in physics now?"
"Nah, just saw it in some videos online. Anyway, that door was busted open in a flash. And then... a red blur just shot past, looking like it had electrical sparks coming off it."
"The two guys at the front of the armored car, the crane driver, and Snart, the one who blasted open the door with the liquid nitrogen, they all just dropped. That red blur looked like a real tough customer. Felt like he could kick a passing dog."
Barry, hearing that last part, immediately bristled, "No, about that, I have to—"
"Let's not get sidetracked," Joe cut him off. "What happened next?"
"Then, one of the robbers seemed to snap. He got up and fired a few shots at the cop. The guy with the liquid nitrogen tank, his mask fell off, that's how I recognized Snart." Cody sighed, a melancholic tone in his voice. "That red figure took the cop and vanished, probably to the hospital. And from now on, I'm going to have one less customer."
"It's okay, look on the bright side," Barry offered, trying to be comforting. "At least that officer is okay now. And a failed robbery doesn't stop him from coming back to buy your food."
"You make it sound terrifying, having a notorious criminal specifically come to my stall to get food..."
As they talked, Eddie approached. "Joe, the on-site investigation is done. Didn't get any more leads. How's it going on your end?"
Joe's face darkened even further at the sight of Eddie—though it was already pretty dark. Cody understood why: Iris and Eddie's relationship hadn't stayed a secret from Joe. His colleague had, in essence, 'stolen' his daughter, and it was a miracle Joe hadn't pulled out his gun and shot the blond man.
"We'll talk about it back at the precinct. Old Ma, we'll come back to you for more information another time."
Cody waved his hand, "You don't have to."
Chapter 357: "Quite a Day" Just Doesn't Cut It
After seeing off Joe, Barry, and the rest of the detectives, Cody hopped back on his motorized tricycle and set up his food stall near the city center. He hadn't been back in Gotham for too long, and he honestly thought witnessing a robbery and giving a statement this morning was exciting enough. He even figured today wouldn't have any more big, dramatic events.
But, as it always goes, things tend to pile up.
"Hey, Cisco," he called out to Francisco, who was walking his way. "Grab a bite?"
"Oh, yeah," Cisco, seemingly lost in thought, was startled by Cody's voice. He managed a strained reply, "Four burgers, and a chocolate bar. I'll take them to Barry."
"You're buying four too?" Cody shrugged. "Alright, alright, maybe I'm just paranoid. The lab does have four people."
Cisco didn't answer. He was still staring at his phone, his usual cheerful expression replaced by a rare hint of sadness.
"What's up? Something on your mind?"
"Huh? No, no..."
Cisco shook his head vigorously. "I was just thinking, Dr. Wells always used to prefer Big Belly Burgers. He's changed his taste recently, and I'm not sure if he'll like these."
"What's there to doubt about my cooking? Just take it."
"Right..."
Once Cisco left the food truck, Cody pulled out his phone. He was certain Cisco was hiding something, he just wasn't sure what. He had to look into it.
"Let's see. Felicity and Barry teamed up, Eddie and Iris teamed up, 'Trivia Night Party.' Four people whose relationships are tangled up like a knot going to the same party. Sounds like it's going to be pretty awkward..." This message wasn't valuable, so Cody skipped it. He had zero interest in these drawn-out, stomach-churning romantic storylines.
"Seems like hardly any heroes have normal love lives, huh?"
He scrolled to the next message.
"The Kandahar Dynasty Diamond will officially open for exhibition at the Central City Museum on Saturday." Cody checked the time, confirming it was indeed Saturday, and this was the diamond Snart had tried to steal this morning. It had already been transported by armored car. If Barry hadn't interrupted the robbery, today's exhibition would definitely have been canceled. This message wasn't important for now, so he moved on to the next.
This time, the scene switched back to S.T.A.R. Labs.
"Strange, why is the main hall empty?"
Cody frowned, his fingers flying across the screen as he flipped through camera feeds, finally landing on the lab's storage room.
"How long has this weapon been missing, Cisco?"
On the screen, the Doctor's tone was incredibly severe. Cisco stood in front of an open cabinet, looking dejected, like a child caught doing something wrong and being scolded by a parent. It was quite a pathetic sight. Caitlin stood nearby, silent as a mouse, not daring to utter a word in his defense.
"A day... maybe two. A guard didn't show up for work today, maybe he stole the Cold Gun..."
Cody immediately understood. This made perfect sense. Snart, as the infamous villain Captain Cold, naturally had his signature weapon, the Cold Gun. This was pretty much set in stone in most universes. Since it had already been stolen, it would undoubtedly soon be united with Snart. Strictly speaking, this was a "choice of fate," and Cisco was pretty innocent in all this.
But clearly, Dr. Wells didn't see it that way.
"S.T.A.R. Labs doesn't welcome weapons, and you built this gun without my knowledge!" The Doctor's voice grew more agitated, "This gun can hurt a lot of people, including Barry Allen! Especially Barry Allen!" As he said this, his fury almost spilled out of the screen, reaching a point of near frenzy. "Do you know how much effort I've put into ensuring Barry Allen's safety?!"
"I'm sorry..."
"Go get that gun back, now!"
Bad, Cody thought, things are really bad. The Doctor was acting like a cornered tiger, losing control of his emotions. Of course, Cody admitted this might have something to do with what Reverse-Flash did to Denton earlier. He was probably feeling incredibly insecure right now.
"Cisco, you're not exactly Batman material..."
Cody couldn't help but shake his head. Preparing for teammates' weaknesses and countermeasures, that's typically a Gotham thing. More precisely, it's what a certain pointy-eared Bat usually does. Batman himself is pretty much an orphan, so it's normal for him to do extreme things, and everyone accepts it. After all, Gotham is a unique place, and the fact that Batman can stay sane, live normally, and even help out in major events, makes other heroes tolerate him to the highest degree.
But Cisco isn't an orphan. His relationship with Barry, Caitlin, and the Doctor is more like family, so him doing something like this feels really out of place.
At this moment, the motorized tricycle couldn't help but ask, "What about you? Aren't you also preparing to deal with—"
"I'm not, I didn't, don't talk nonsense."
Cody immediately denied it three times. "Those were plans to deal with speedsters, not plans to deal with Barry Allen."
"Even if we go a thousand steps back, and I actually used that method on Barry, it must have been Batman's fault. Yes, it's all the pointy-eared one's fault."
"Hard to say."
"And another thousand steps back, I'm an orphan too, okay?"
At this, Cody seemed to have found a 'get out of jail free' card, immediately puffing out his chest and declaring, "We're all orphans, so if you're going to complain about Batman, you can't complain about me now, can you?"
"Is there anything to be proud of about being an orphan...?"
Just as he was talking, another message popped up in the group chat.
"Police have just discovered a man murdered in a house near XX Street in Central City. The victim's identity is suspected to be 'Jolly Brook' – a well-known illegal arms dealer in Central City, specializing in selling high-tech weapons to criminals, who had been on the run for years... The body shows strange signs of death; the victim appears to have died from severe hypothermia, but there's no refrigeration equipment or cold environment at the scene. The case is currently under further investigation."
"Looks like a double-cross," Cody thought. "Too much has happened today."
"Hey, three burgers."
"No problem."
Cody instinctively responded, then realized the customer's voice sounded familiar.
"Snart?!"
Snart gave him a slight smile and reached into his trench coat. "Shh—, keep it down. I wouldn't want to never be able to eat your food again."
"Oh, right..."
"Two minutes, quick. I've got places to be."
Chapter 358: Does That Even Make Sense?
"I gave the cops a lead on you. Aren't you mad?"
"What's the point? I'm the only thief of this caliber in Central City anyway. Even if you didn't say anything, the police would figure it out eventually."
"That confident, huh?"
"To date, I've pulled off twenty-three major heists in Central City, each worth no less than a million dollars, and I've never been caught. If it weren't for that red blur, today would have been my twenty-fourth."
"So, your record's verifiable, huh? Your burger's ready. Here you go."
"Thanks. That'll be fifteen bucks."
"No problem." Cody watched him retract his hand from his trench coat, letting out a silent sigh of relief. He wasn't afraid of a fight, but getting into one out in the open would attract too much attention.
"I've got things to do. The Khandaq Dynasty diamond exhibition has probably already begun." Snart waved him off. "In a hurry, no time to chat. See you next time."
Cody raised an eyebrow.
"You know I'm going to tell the police about this, right?"
"Be my guest."
"I have a condition."
Snart's departing steps faltered. He turned back, scrutinizing the food truck owner he'd dealt with so many times, and couldn't help but chuckle.
"Interesting. What do you want?"
"You said you're the best criminal in Central City, the most skilled thief," Cody replied. "But this morning, your heist plan had an unnecessary casualty, a cop even."
"If you're as good as you say you are, your plan could be perfect. You don't need to kill anyone to get what you want."
"Not killing is one of my principles... But I'm also a criminal. I don't need to keep my word, and I'm not going to tie my own hands."
Snart shook his head. "That offer isn't fair. Me choosing to do it and someone forcing me to do it are two different things. Unless you're strong enough to force my hand."
Cody thought to himself, going tough isn't out of the question, but there's no real need for it.
"Alright then, let's meet halfway. How about a bet? If you can get the diamond without hurting anyone, I'll pay you three hundred thousand dollars. If you just manage to get it without killing anyone, I'll pay you one hundred thousand."
Snart paused, a rare expression of confusion on his face. "Where do you get that kind of money?"
"From running my stall, of course."
"?"
In that moment, a million thoughts raced through Snart's mind:
How do "running a stall" and "three hundred thousand dollars" even connect? Is this business really that profitable? Should he consider a side hustle, maybe learn to cook? How much does this unassuming 'Old Ma' really make every day? He can just casually offer three hundred thousand; how much is actually left in his account?
He pulls off a robbery every six months, plans meticulously, buys gear, studies police routes and response times, risks jail or even a bullet, and then has to split the take with his crew. At most, he gets three to five hundred thousand, and then he has to stay hidden from the police, unable to flaunt it...
Should he change careers?
A moment later, Snart shook his head vigorously. What was he thinking? He'd been a robber for so many years. With his intelligence and skill, could his earning efficiency really be worse than a street vendor's?
As a super-criminal with ambition, ideals, and ability, Snart naturally had his own principles. He had a core similarity with some of Gotham's criminals; his robberies were usually about proving himself, not just for the money. It was somewhat like certain players in simulation games—they don't actually need the money, but the thrill of the heist, the sense of accomplishment, and the growing numbers in their virtual vault are satisfying enough.
"Deal, but that red blur is an exception," Snart finally said. "I won't kill him, but he punched me this morning, and I'll return the favor."
"Aren't you going to ask about your end of the bet if you lose?"
Snart didn't reply, just waved his hand.
"So confident, huh?"
Cody shrugged. He genuinely didn't care about that three hundred thousand dollars. His life in Central City barely cost him anything. He picked a cheap rental as a front (he lives in his wallpaper dimension, after all), has no expensive hobbies, and his stall ingredients are system-provided.
Even Denton decided that if he wins his lawsuit against Stagg and starts a company with his patents, he'll give Cody a 20% stake. After all, this kind boss saved his wife and his life, and in a way, prevented him from going down a dark path, essentially saving his future.
In this universe, the last thing Cody will likely ever lack is cash.
So, he pulled out his phone and called Joe.
"Detective Joe, Snart just bought three burgers from me. He said he's heading to the Central City Exhibition Hall to grab that diamond, and he told me to call and let the police know. Figured I'd just call you directly since we're buddies."
"What? You're at the museum? Be careful then!"
After hanging up, Cody calmly continued setting up his stall.
He had enough confidence in Captain Cold. As one of Barry's main adversaries in Central City, he was sure to push the Flash to his limits. The recent metahumans have been dealt with pretty easily; he wasn't sure if that would affect Barry's growth. But having Snart push him is always a good thing. A sapling needs pruning to grow straight; how is this not a form of special training?
He didn't rush to watch the live feed. He waited patiently, and about ten minutes later, a lightning bolt streaked past his food truck, leaving behind some dollars and taking a chocolate liqueur.
"Barry's on the move. Snart must have made his move."
Cody seamlessly switched to the museum's surveillance feed and, sure enough, saw a figure crackling with electricity battling Snart, who was armed with his cold gun. Or perhaps, it wasn't even a battle; Barry was simply being led on.
It was notable that when Snart picked up the gun, a strange, invisible pulse seemed to envelop the entire museum. Barry, usually lightning-fast, appeared to slow down within it. Though still far beyond normal humans, he was now moving at a speed where the naked eye could barely catch him, and Snart could even aim and fire.
"What the hell is that?!" Cody couldn't help but exclaim. "Since when does a cold gun have that kind of ability?"
Sanbunzi replied, "According to Cisco Ramon's lab journals, he appears to have utilized a miniature cyclotron on the cold gun. It's capable of affecting speedsters' velocity."
"What?! Does that even make sense?"
Chapter 359: Makes Perfect Sense
"I can be ten, maybe even nine, out of ten sure that there was no 'cold gun with a miniature particle accelerator' in the original show," Cody couldn't help but complain. "While it certainly explains how Captain Cold can go toe-to-toe with a speedster, this gun has seriously elevated Cisco's mechanical and physics skills to a master level, hasn't it?"
"I'm not entirely sure what you mean by 'original show,' but there's no doubt that, based on our current analysis of Francisco's past record, he's a true polymath with extremely high cumulative knowledge in mechanics, physics, and computer science."
"What about individually?"
[Master-level Mechanical Proficiency, Master-level Physics Proficiency, Advanced Computer Proficiency]
"Well, that's pretty impressive..."
Cody glanced at his stats panel and promptly upgraded his Advanced Firearm Proficiency and Advanced Driving Proficiency to Master-level. This immediately cost him $300,000 in asset points, leaving him with $700,000.
He had considered addressing his weaknesses before, but things had been a bit chaotic lately, so he'd forgotten. Now, with his ranged and driving skills bolstered, he felt ready to handle most unexpected situations.
He was leveling up by himself, while Barry was getting pummeled by himself.
"You won't get that gem, Snart! Give it up!"
"I don't need to get the gem right away. I just need to deal with the biggest obstacle first."
As soon as he spoke, Snart redirected his gun, and a blinding, cold white beam of ice immediately shot towards a tourist nearby who hadn't managed to escape the museum yet.
"No!"
Barry sprinted towards the tourist, and as he selflessly knocked the person away, Snart, having already gauged Barry's speed, precisely anticipated his move. He counted the seconds as he lowered the cold gun, the freezing beam missing Barry but encasing the entire surrounding ground in ice.
"Damn it!" Barry's foot landed directly on the ice, sending him flying along with the tourist he'd pushed aside.
Snart then aimed his gun at Barry's calf. He said coldly, "Kid, you should just lie down and stay put."
Whoosh!
A cold current instantly clung to Barry's leg, forming a layer of biting white frost on his skin, which then quickly froze to the ground, encasing him in a huge block of ice.
Thud!
Snart delivered a solid punch to the fallen Barry.
Having done all that, he didn't even glance at the gem in the display case, turning and leaving the museum directly.
Outside the museum, police sirens wailed in a rising and falling chorus.
Joe rushed into the main hall. He'd almost been taken out by Snart's gun during the previous skirmish, realizing he couldn't help in the fight, so he'd focused on assisting with the evacuation instead.
He ran to the fallen Barry, shattered the ice binding his legs with a few butt-strokes of his gun, and helped him up. After Barry vanished in a blur of lightning, Joe turned back to meet the museum director who was jogging over.
"Mr. Director, what about it? That gem in the display case—"
"Ah, the item is still there... Snart didn't take it."
Joe couldn't help but gape, silently cursing a few times.
"We got a tip that he was coming to the museum, which is why we swapped the gem for a replica. But he knew we had made preparations... he wasn't here for the gem this time."
"Then what was he here for?"
"He came for me this time." Barry sat on the bed, looking at his frostbitten, pale leg. "For an ordinary person, this level of frostbite would require weeks of recovery in the hospital. He knew only I could be fast enough to stop his criminal plans."
"He deliberately adjusted the cold gun's setting to prevent permanent tissue damage to your limbs," Cisco shook his head. "There weren't even any injuries to anyone else in the museum besides you. This is the first time I've seen a criminal with such... boundaries."
"But he's still a criminal."
"Right."
At this, Barry couldn't help but shake his head in frustration. Since the last time he dispersed Clyde's tornado, today's battle was his first crushing defeat to a criminal, and the guy didn't even have superpowers. It hit him hard.
"Cisco, I'm not mad that you built that gun to take me down before, we weren't exactly buddies then. But you should have told me about the gun afterward. Thankfully, no one else was hurt today—but I'm still really angry."
"I'm sorry, Barry..."
"Cisco, we have to get that gun back. Even though Snart hasn't used it to hurt anyone yet, we can't guarantee he never will."
As dusk settled, Cody heard the police radio announce, "Criminal Snart has evaded police pursuit," and promptly packed up his stall.
"So he wasn't stopped after all. A fully-fledged Captain Cold is indeed tough for the police to deal with."
However, a truly "fully-fledged" Captain Cold would likely include his metahuman crew, the Rogues.
Cody meandered over to a bank, spent some time inside, and withdrew $300,000 in cash.
In $100 denominations, it was thirty bundles, which felt quite light in his backpack and was easy to carry.
Cody looked at the backpack, pondering for a moment.
"Nah, I'll switch the denominations. This one isn't challenging enough."
Later that night, on his way home on his three-wheeled scooter, a familiar figure stopped him.
"I'm here for the money."
"You work fast."
Cody grumbled, looking at Snart. "Why are you still wearing sunglasses at night? Don't you need to see where you're going?"
Snart took off his sunglasses. "They're part of the cold gun's kit. Otherwise, the white glare from the freezing beam would damage my eyes."
"The gem? Can I see it?"
Snart pulled out a beautiful, large diamond from his coat.
"Very pretty."
Cody complimented him without much sincerity, as if he genuinely just wanted to confirm Snart had fulfilled his end of the bargain. Then, he bent down, struggling to lift something heavy.
"Hold on, three hundred thousand—it's a bit—heavy!"
Thud!
He laboriously hoisted two massive bags onto the food cart, and the flimsy vehicle groaned under the weight.
"You—how much money did you withdraw?!"
Snart nearly swore. "You've been carrying all this cash around in a food cart?!"
"It's just three hundred thousand, in ten-dollar bills. Three hundred bundles in total. I don't know how heavy it is, but you can just carry it."
"How am I supposed to get on a high-speed train with these ridiculous bags?"
"You're seriously planning to take public transportation out of Central City with a diamond on you?"
"I..."
Snart stiffened. His two accomplices had abandoned him earlier that afternoon; he was on his own now.
"I don't have a car right now," he replied, suppressing the urge to pull out his cold gun and blast the other man. "You need to change this three hundred thousand into hundred-dollar denominations for me."
"Why didn't you say so earlier?"
Chapter 360 Snart's Last Laugh & The Red Blur's Recovery
After a quick, curt exchange, Snart made it clear to Cody that he wouldn't be collecting his ill-gotten gains today. He'd be back with a car next time.
"You're really, really going to take the bullet train out of Central City?" Cody asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.
"I have my plans," Snart replied, ever enigmatic.
"You know I'm going to tell the police about this, right?"
"Be my guest."
"I've got another—"
"Don't push your luck. I've already promised not to kill anyone. Very few people get me to bend a long-standing rule for 300,000."
"Alright, alright, good luck then. So, I guess we won't see each other for another six months, huh?"
"Don't worry," Snart grinned, a chilling smile. "We'll meet again much sooner than that." With that, he turned and walked away.
"What about that gun with the cyclotron?" Three-Wheeler, Cody's tech, suddenly chimed in. "Aren't we going to analyze it?"
"I'd love to," Cody sighed. "But you saw it, didn't you? I tried, and he wasn't having any of it. Can't you see Cisco's lab journals? Just follow those and faithfully replicate it."
"That'll be slow," Three-Wheeler grumbled.
"What's the rush? There aren't any out-of-control speedsters tearing up the streets right now."
Cody picked up his phone, dialed Joe's number again, quickly relayed the information about Snart, and then headed home to get some sleep.
High-Speed Hijinks and a Familiar Face
The next day, Cody unfolded the newspaper to find a glaring headline: "Central City Bullet Train Derails Overnight, Master Thief Snart Escapes With Diamond."
"Liquid nitrogen is a real masterpiece for destruction," he mused. After carefully confirming there were no casualties reported, Cody put the newspaper away. A high-speed train derailing with no casualties? Barry must have been there. Only he could be fast enough to save everyone.
Who won?
"Old Ma, oh, Old Ma," a wheezing voice suddenly called from beside him. Cody looked over to see Barry, clutching his lower back, hobbling towards the food cart.
"Alright, looks like Barry got pummeled again," Cody couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, well, if it isn't Barry. Only been a day, what happened to you?"
"Uh, I got a bit of frostbite on my lower back yesterday," Barry chuckled awkwardly. "It's fine, I'll recover quickly. Uh, I'd like a chocolate liquor-filled candy, please?"
"Ah, a connoisseur! My family's secret recipe, good for healing too."
"What are you selling today? I want to buy some."
"Today, it's spicy strips."
"What?"
"Spicy strips. Handmade spicy strips."
Three-Wheeler couldn't help but complain in Cody's earbud: "Did you see that? Even Barry thinks you're going too wild."
"What's it to you?" Cody maintained his smile, his lips barely moving as he quietly retorted through clenched teeth, "Just watch me sell out today."
Barry eventually left with a bag of spicy strips. Even though he'd never seen such an odd snack, he trusted Old Ma's cooking and decided to take a bag back to the lab for everyone to try.
"One-shot deals don't get repeat customers," Three-Wheeler pointed out.
"What do you know? I asked my foreign student friends. They all raised both hands and feet in approval when I told them I was making spicy strips. Said they're 'explosion-level delicious'..."
Boom!
Mid-sentence, a sudden explosion in the distance cut off Cody.
"Boss, boss," the sleepy cat on Cody's head, a spicy strip in its mouth, scratched its head quizzically. "It really is explosion-level delicious, meow."
"Cut it out! That was a real explosion!" Three-Wheeler instantly tapped into Central City's surveillance network. "No blast point seen on nearby cameras, but... I'm seeing military?!"
"What are you talking about? Why would the military be setting off bombs in broad daylight? Hey, Lazy Cat, get your greasy paw off my head! Go scratch your own!"
"Boss, you don't like me, meow?"
As the food cart trio descended into chaos, a woman suddenly darted out from a nearby alley.
"Hello, would you like to buy a bag of Chinese handmade spicy strips—"
"Sorry, no time!"
The sleek woman, dressed in black leather, had striking long blonde hair with subtly purple tips. She was beautiful, with a hint of heroic spirit in her eyes. She ignored Cody's sales pitch, focused only on running forward. But seeing a squad of soldiers in military uniforms on the road ahead, she had no choice but to double back.
"So? Ready to buy some spicy strips now?"
"Please! Hide me! Don't say you saw me!"
Her eyes quickly scanned the inner layers of the food cart's panels. Spotting a small space in the lower section of the cart, she immediately squeezed inside.
At the same time, heavy footsteps echoed from the alley, and two squads converged around the food cart, completing their encirclement.
"Where is she?"
"Didn't see her. Maybe she ducked into a civilian building?"
A General's Arrogance
At that moment, a tall, burly old man with a white buzz cut emerged from the squad. His uniform and his arrogant, rigid demeanor left no doubt that he was the commanding officer of these two teams. Cody watched him approach, his face cold and sinister, immediately sensing that this man was trouble.
"You, have you been setting up your stall here all this time?" he demanded, walking straight up to Cody. "I am General Wade Elling from the military. We're looking for an internal military deserter. Tell me, where did she go?"
Who are you?!
Though Cody longed to retort directly, the man had already introduced himself, making such a response illogical.
"So," he replied, "you're asking for my help?"
"I am demanding you fulfill your duty as an American citizen." Elling took another step forward, his massive frame looming like a mountain. For an ordinary person, the sheer force of this overbearing general's presence would likely be overwhelming.
"Fulfill my duty?"
Cody calmly shook his head, cradling the sleepy cat from his head in his arms. "You've been a general for all these years, and I've been a citizen for all these years. We don't know each other."
"This is the first time the American military has come to me, a citizen, asking for help. And I can't even remember the last time I saw you people around." He casually scratched the sleepy cat's chin. "Let me be frank, your American military has never cared about the friendship of a mere citizen. You disdain interacting with us."
Elling's eyes turned extremely severe. "I told you to answer my question!"
"I understand. Your military got rich off the government, you're doing well, living well, with financial backers and guns in your hands—you don't need friends like us."
"But now you come to me and say, 'Citizen, we need you to fulfill your duty.'"
"You show me no respect. You don't treat me like a friend."
"You don't even bother to ask my name, or call me Old Ma."
