286-290

Chapter 286: What a Coincidence, Isn't It? 

[PROMPT: Due to this being an unauthorized entry into another universe, and given the multiple spacetime distortion events that have occurred in that universe, for your safety, this unauthorized entry will be completed in the form of a projected avatar.] 

[ATTENTION: Due to using an unauthorized entry method, existing supernatural abilities and items will require additional asset points to be replicated for the avatar. You may choose not to purchase them. Skill-type abilities are not subject to this restriction and can be replicated without spending asset points.] 

[ATTENTION: Due to using an unauthorized entry method, the system will skip the forced analysis and breakthrough steps for this world. Therefore, special system skills will be permanently unavailable in the new world. At the same time, the large amount of resources saved through this method will act as a compensation mechanism, increasing your asset point acquisition multiplier in this world by ten times.] 

[ATTENTION: After completing a sufficient number of missions and surviving for a sufficient amount of time in the unauthorized entry world, you will truly be recognized as part of that world's timeline. At this point, you can travel with your true body and merge your avatar and this world's skills and inventory.] 

Cody read these four points of attention over and over, vaguely seeing the words "needs money" between the lines. He couldn't help but sigh, "Honestly, this whole process of sneaking in to work and gain status, it looks a bit familiar..." 

[This is a normal process for unauthorized entry. If there are any similarities, please do not question them.] 

"Alright, alright," Cody continued to ask, "Can I still buy things from the store after I go there?" 

[Yes—but supernatural items and abilities cannot be brought back temporarily until recognized by that world.] 

"What about asset points? Can I bring those back?" 

[Yes.] 

"That's not bad." Cody pulled up his panel and thought for a moment. "Okay, most of my abilities are skill-based, so I can take them with me. I still have over 110,000 points left, which should be enough—I'll just treat this as a bonus level to farm the system's gold." 

Having made up his mind, he went to a deserted corner to avoid anyone seeing the entire process of his disappearance. 

"Haki-tong, let's go." 

[Didn't you say you wouldn't play abstract games anymore?] 

"I'm an old trickster." 

As a sudden wave of dizziness washed over his brain, he lost consciousness. 

"Hey, buddy? Are you okay?" 

Cody, who had been lying like a corpse, subconsciously opened his eyes. "Who called me?" 

"F**k!" 

The young man in the leather jacket was startled by Cody's sudden voice and instinctively swore. "Damn it, are you sick? What are you doing lying on the main road for no reason?" 

Cody didn't answer immediately. He stood up, dusted himself off, and looked around at his surroundings. 

The sun was shining brightly, and traffic was bustling. The city was lively during the day, and in the distance, a large circular building was faintly visible—although its shape and color were vastly different, Cody could still recognize it as Central City's Particle Accelerator. 

Well, the Drake couple went to Central City, so they ended up in Central City in another universe. 

Does that make sense? 

It makes perfect sense. 

"Sorry, I have low blood sugar." 

Cody gave the young man an apologetic smile. "I get dizzy easily when I walk. I accidentally fell onto the road just now." 

He tried to reach into his pocket for a piece of candy to support his claim but felt nothing. 

"Oh, right, the Horn of Plenty is a supernatural item," he thought to himself. "I need to prepare some other healing methods, or at least ways to sustain life, otherwise it'll be hard to save people if something goes wrong." 

"Alright, alright, just don't lie on the road anymore." 

The young man glanced at Cody, finding him still a bit odd, and then turned and hurried away. 

Cody smiled meaningfully. 

The section of the road he was on seemed quite secluded. Although Central City was safe enough, it wasn't to the point of leaving doors unlocked at night or no one picking up dropped items—in fact, Cody had seen a hint of disappointment in the young man's eyes just now. 

There were no surveillance cameras visible on this road. If he hadn't woken up, the young man could have simply taken his wallet and left without any consequences—but since he woke up, the interaction became just a simple warning. 

"Central City isn't a utopia after all..." 

He mused to himself, then walked over to a cafe, connected to its Wi-Fi, and synchronized his phone with the local time. 

"I need to buy a... wait, where's my identity gone?" 

[Sorry, this world has not been analyzed, so local identity cannot be purchased—you can choose to purchase forged identity documents, proofs, and phone/account details, and further complete your identity information by invading government and Central City Police Department databases.] 

"Which of those suggestions do you think sounds legal?" 

[This is a normal process for unauthorized entry. If you have any questions, please do not question them.] 

"Six." 

Cody casually bought the forged identity documents. He was still penniless at this point and needed to go to a gold shop to exchange money, so he simply took out his bicycle. 

He actually wanted to go back to being the "perverted wheelchair guy," but he couldn't. A wheelchair was too conspicuous and only suitable for use in Gotham. 

Without the Intermediate Physique bonus, Cody's cycling speed was much slower, dropping to 80 km/h at one point. It took him a full ten minutes to reach the gold shop. 

The forged identity documents were system-made and perfectly convincing. The shop owner found no irregularities, and the transaction went smoothly. Cody packed the money into a small bag and left the gold shop. 

He pulled out his phone, humming a tune, and found the Central City map—it showed that the nearest bank was just a block away. 

"What a coincidence, isn't it?" 

Cody got back on his bike and rode towards the bank entrance. Having just exchanged money, he definitely needed to deposit most of it. 

However, reality often falls short of expectations. 

Bang! Bang! 

"Everybody freeze! Hands up! No calling the police! Hurry! Move it!" 

"Someone help load the money! You! Quick! Or I'll shoot!" 

Cody, utterly bewildered, looked left and right. Next to him, a thug held civilians at gunpoint. At the counter, another thug threatened bank employees with a gun. 

Only two people, yet they dared to rob a bank. This was a spectacle that would absolutely never happen in Gotham, because there, these two would have already been blasted into Swiss cheese by the bank manager with a shotgun. 

Facing the barrel of the thug's gun, Cody finally pointed to his face: "Huh? Me?" 

"Idiot! Hurry! Or I'll kill you!" 

What a coincidence, isn't it? 

So, with a dark expression, he walked to the counter and mechanically helped the bank employees stuff cash into bags. 

He was numb. Truly numb. 

Isn't this Central City? Is robbery not a rare occurrence here? 

Chapter 287: Two Failed Men 

Cody, he's a guy who can handle pressure pretty well. 

Now, if you said he was born a legendary stress-resistant champion, that'd be a joke. But after being put through the wringer in two different Gotham Cities and one New York City, if he hadn't gotten used to a few minor incidents, well, that would be even more ridiculous. 

"But isn't this Central City?" Cody silently wept in his heart. "I was dealing with pressure back in Gotham, and I'm still dealing with pressure here in Central City. What was the point of coming?" 

Even though his hands moved quickly, his face told a completely different story. The whole scene was so absurd that one of the robbers couldn't help but speak up. 

"Why the long face?! Did your wife die or something?!" 

"I don't have a wife." 

"Your girlfriend—" 

"No girlfriend." 

"Your family—" 

"No family." 

"Then what the heck do you have, man?!" 

Cody glanced at the bag full of money in the robber's hand. 

"I just deposited my savings." 

The robber, who was busy stuffing cash, suddenly went silent. 

He stood there stunned for a good while, unable to say another word. Finally, he pulled out a stack of money and discreetly slipped it into Cody's arms. 

"Sorry, buddy," he whispered. "I admit I was a little loud just now." 

Cody looked down, and a warm feeling spread through him—this stack alone would help him recover at least twenty percent of his losses. 

"Can I have a few more stacks?" he whispered back. "Even one more would be fine, I'm not picky." 

The robber's expression changed instantly. He snatched the stack of money right back from Cody's arms and, also in a low voice, replied, "Get lost." 

"Right away, sir." 

As the two robbers were about to make their escape with the money, the sound of police sirens suddenly pierced the air from outside. 

"Clyde! Stop messing around!" 

The robber holding the hostages, hearing the sirens, panicked slightly. "Damn it, the cops are here earlier than we thought! We gotta get out of here with the cash, fast!" 

The robber stuffing the money, also heard the sirens from the street, but he looked at the unfinished pile of cash and felt a surge of unwillingness. "Damn it, Mark, we still have so much money left to bag! At least a hundred thousand!" 

"I said, stop, you, damn, bagging!" 

Mark gritted his teeth at Clyde. "If we keep at it, we won't even keep the money in these bags!" 

"But...ugh!" 

Clyde furiously zipped up the backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He kept his gun pointed at Cody and the bank staff, backing away towards Mark. "Let's go, let's move!" 

Cody silently mused as he watched them go, "Just as expected of Central City, even the criminals here are afraid of the police. The Gotham police, before Gordon and Bruce reformed them, had practically no authority. Forget about bank robbers, even slightly skilled petty thieves weren't afraid of the police department. Walking into the police station was like coming home, and breaking out of jail was like taking a stroll." 

"Then again," he continued to himself, "Gotham City's bank robbers are definitely more professional than these two. After all, it's hard to rob money from gangs, and there's always gang money everywhere in the city. That's why amateur robbers naturally got weeded out." 

"Guys like Clyde and Mark, with nothing but handguns, no heavy firepower, no idea of the exact police response time, hesitant and slow during their escape, without even bothering to get a lookout at the door, and no one to guard against customers or staff inside the bank who might pull out mini-machine guns and start shooting randomly—they'd definitely be the ones eliminated in Gotham." 

"Life in Central City is just too comfortable," Cody sharply remarked. "Gotham City never tolerates idlers." 

"This way! Over here!" 

Clyde and Mark, clutching their two large bags, jumped into the car. Mark took the wheel, while Clyde quickly piled the bags to one side and reached for the gun at his waist. 

"Hey, Mark," he suddenly remembered something and asked the driving Mark, "Did you take out the surveillance cameras? I think I forgot to..." 

"I shot them down with two rounds when I came in," Mark rolled his eyes. "What would you do if I wasn't around to take care of you?" 

Clyde breathed a sigh of relief when he heard that. He chuckled and replied, "You're my brother. If you don't take care of me, who else will?" 

Mark was speechless, only sighing as he turned the key and started the car—but when his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, his nerves instantly tightened. 

"Damn it, the security guards are chasing us! Those bastards in the bank untied them!" 

Clyde's face also contorted as he glared at the car's rear window. "Damn it, they dare to chase us..." 

"Bastards, put down your guns! Hands up and surrender!" 

Several security guards, guns in hand, chased after the car, aiming and pulling the triggers. With a few shots, the car's rear window shattered, and several bullet holes immediately appeared on the car body. Worst of all, a tire was blown out. 

Screeeech— 

Clyde and Mark instinctively ducked, avoiding the bullets. Though they were about to escape, Clyde couldn't swallow his anger. 

"You bastards, you're asking for it..." 

He immediately raised his gun, aimed at the security guards still in sight, and pulled the trigger. 

Click— 

No gunshot. The handgun made the crisp, empty sound of the hammer striking the firing pin. 

"What the heck?! Of all times..." 

Clyde ejected the magazine. He thought the gun had jammed, but when he saw the magazine, he realized he was wrong. 

"Mark! Why are there no bullets in my magazine?!" 

"How could there not be? Didn't I just check it with you yesterday?!" 

As the two were talking, the car's path suddenly began to wobble, and its speed slowed down. 

"Crap!" Mark instantly reacted. "The tire's blown!" 

Bang! Bang! 

The group of security guards pulled their triggers again, adding more bullet marks to the car's body. 

"Go, quick!" 

"Damn it, the tire's burst!" Mark watched in despair as police lights appeared in the rearview mirror, meaning the police were catching up. He gnashed his teeth, then grimly declared, "Clyde, throw out the money!" 

"What?! Are you crazy?!" 

"Hurry! The cops are catching up to us!" 

"Ugh!" 

Clyde painfully tossed out one large bag. The police car indeed fell back a bit, but at that moment, more police cars merged into the traffic. 

"Throw them all out!" 

Clyde, filled with resentment, had no choice but to throw the other bag out of the car. 

Finally, the car's speed picked up. Mark, using his driving skills, weaved skillfully through the streets and alleys. About half an hour later, the sirens and lights behind them slowly disappeared. 

However, both of them were in a terrible mood. 

"Damn! Damn! Damn!" 

Clyde slammed his handgun onto the car seat, cursing in frustration. 

"All that for nothing! Damn it!" 

Mark also sighed. "Why were there no bullets in your gun...?" 

"How the heck should I know?!" 

Meanwhile, Cody secretly put a handful of bullets into his backpack and hummed a tune as he left the bank. 

"Riding on my beloved little scooter~" 

Chapter 288 The Hero Who Isn't a Hero Yet 

When Clyde and Mark started to rob the bank, Cody thought about knocking them out directly. He had the ability—even without his supernatural enhancements, he still possessed advanced firearms skills and master-level stealth. Although his Samurai Blade wasn't available, he could still buy other handguns. 

But after thinking it over, he decided against a direct confrontation. Instead, he secretly used someone else's phone to call the police right away. 

"My identity information is all fake," he thought to himself. "If I knock them both out directly, the police will definitely come to investigate me." 

He hadn't had time to put his data into government files yet—not to mention that most files are still paper-based, meaning he'd have to sneak in directly. Even if he did manage to get his information in, he didn't really want to draw attention to himself. He'd never lived in this universe, which was something he couldn't fake, and he didn't want persistent police officers digging into his birthplace—what if they found something? Plus, he had an Asian face. 

So, he rummaged through his inventory again, finally ruling out blow darts and opting for the least conspicuous method: stealing the bullets from the two brothers' guns and pockets. For him, this wasn't difficult at all; it simply involved replacing their loaded magazines with empty ones. Thanks to his master-level stealth, Cody's presence was incredibly faint, allowing him to remain completely out of their sight and attention. Even Catwoman once praised Cody's stealth skills, calling him a natural-born thief, saying he was truly gifted, and even taught him a few pickpocketing tricks. 

While Cody wasn't sure if Catwoman's words were praise or sarcasm, he certainly performed well against these two brothers today. 

[You have gained a new skill: Junior Pickpocketing Mastery] 

After one real-world application, pickpocketing was officially recognized as a skill. 

"I'll just take it as a compliment," Cody scratched his head. He needed to find a hotel and figure out what kind of work he could do in this universe. The only silver lining was that, since he entered as a "stowaway," the legal restrictions were lifted, meaning any legitimate earnings would contribute to his asset points. 

Half an hour later, the bank entrance was swarming with police. Patrol cars surrounded the crime scene tape, preventing any disturbances, and dozens of officers moved in and out of the bank, investigating, questioning staff, and recording their statements. 

Two plainclothes detectives exchanged notes at the bank's entrance, observing the scene. 

"According to the teller's identification, Mark Madden was the one who fired the shot." 

"What?" The detective holding a coffee cup initially looked surprised, then a look of realization dawned on his face. "Ah, I remember now, the notorious Madden brothers—they're back at it again?" 

The older Black detective next to him nodded. 

At that moment, a superior officer in a gray trench coat approached them. "Any leads?" he asked casually. 

"The suspects shot out the surveillance cameras, robbed money from the bank, and seemed to want to retaliate against the security guards while escaping, but for some reason, they didn't fire," the Black detective explained, handing two suspect photos to the officer. The photos showed a pair of blonde brothers looking nonchalant, one even smirking at the camera—the very two who had robbed the bank. 

The officer recognized them immediately. The Madden brothers were repeat offenders; these were their mugshots from a previous arrest. 

"I've already checked with the Madden brothers' former associates; it was them," the Black officer continued. "They didn't get away with anything, but one thing is a bit strange: they didn't shoot at the pursuing officers—that's normal for the composed Mark, but it's completely out of character for Clyde, who's usually reckless and hot-headed." 

"Maybe his gun jammed," the officer shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Let's catch them first; we can ask the rest later. Have the CSI (Crime Scene Investigators) arrived?" 

A hint of embarrassment crossed the Black detective's face at the question. "...No." 

"Allen isn't here? Where is he? Joe, you can't keep covering for him. If he's not here, we'll just have to continue the investigation without him." 

Just as the officer was scolding the Black detective, a young voice finally cut through the crowd. 

"Excuse me! CSI, CSI, please let me through!" 

A hurried young man pushed past the crime scene tape and police officers, reaching the trio and awkwardly apologizing to the officer. "Sorry, Captain Singh, I'm late." 

Singh's face showed his displeasure upon seeing the tardy Allen. He scoffed, "What's the excuse this time, Mr. Allen? Forgot to set your alarm?—Think carefully before you speak; your last excuse was a broken car." 

Allen's embarrassment deepened. 

"You want to know why I still remember that excuse?" 

"Uh... I don't own a car." 

"That's right." 

At that moment, the Black detective intervened. "He was running an errand for me—Barry, don't just stand there, give me the stuff." Barry Allen fumbled in his pocket for a long time before finally pulling out a half-eaten pastry with an embarrassed expression. 

The detective took a deep breath, trying to suppress his anger. 

"Get to work." 

Barry didn't dare say another word. He put on his gloves and approached the tire tracks at the bank entrance. The moment his eyes landed on the evidence, his gaze immediately sharpened, and he entered work mode. 

He quickly analyzed, "The getaway car was a Mustang. They have a specific model, twelve feet, wide rear tires, asymmetrical tire marks—it's a Mustang GT500." 

"According to the security guards, they blew out their tires while chasing the Madden brothers," the Black detective said. "I'll have someone check the surrounding auto repair shops for anyone coming in to fix a Mustang GT500 today." 

"More than that, there's something else." Barry said, bending down to examine tiny fragments in the tire tracks. "Looks like fecal matter. We need to collect a sample for analysis." 

"Anything else?" 

Barry shook his head. 

The Black detective chimed in, "One more thing that's a bit odd: we tracked down the person who called in the tip, but they denied making the call." 

"Who did it then?" 

"We don't know; we can't trace it. The bank's surveillance cameras were disabled at the start, and everyone around said they didn't see who made the call." 

"Never mind then," Singh waved his hand. He then turned to Barry. "Mr. Allen, I hope you won't be late again next time—now, go do your actual job." 

Chapter 289: The Calm Before the Storm 

While the police were investigating the bank robbery, Cody had already found a hotel. 

"It's best to find a long-term rental," he thought. "But I don't have enough time today, so I'll move tomorrow. For now, I'll check the news—see if there's anything about the Drake family." 

After multiple temporary jobs, he had developed a routine for gathering information. No matter what, newspapers were always one of his reliable choices for major news events. And when he knew a bit about the storyline, these big events usually helped him pinpoint the current time in this world. 

However, when Cody turned on the TV news, the headline blared: "Dr. Wells Announces First Particle Collision Experiment at Particle Accelerator to Begin Tonight." 

"Oh, come on, why now?!" 

Cody's eyes widened. Central City was the Flash's territory, and he'd seen the first few episodes of The Flash. Of course, he knew what the particle accelerator meant—it meant tonight was the exact moment the Flash would officially be born. 

At the same time, it was also the moment the particle accelerator would explode. 

"Where on Earth did the Drake couple run off to...?" 

He wasn't worried about anything else, but if the couple had indeed settled in Central City in this world and planned to attend the particle accelerator experiment viewing tonight, they could potentially be killed by the explosion. 

"So, if I just go and stop the accelerator from exploding..." 

[Please be advised: The birth of 'The Flash' is a core necessary event for this universe. Attempting to prevent the particle accelerator explosion will disrupt all timelines—your unauthorized presence will immediately be detected by this universe, resulting in forced expulsion and an inability to return.] 

"Alright, alright..." 

Facing the system's warning, Cody sighed. "Fine. Anyway, there's some old schemer watching the whole process, so I probably can't stop this anyway. I'll just have to put in some effort to find out where those two went." 

He carefully checked the other news, but the remaining stories weren't important events; he had no memory of them. 

Since there was no news about the Drake couple, he'd have to use other methods, like searching the city's population database. 

"When they arrived in this world, they probably didn't have legal identities, meaning there's a good chance they became homeless, or illegal workers, or were even discovered by the police..." Cody silently analyzed, these were his future search directions. 

He opened his laptop and quickly searched for agencies that recorded citizen identities in this world—he was about to spend a long time here, so the sooner he faked an identity, the better. 

It was a relief that advanced computer proficiency worked in both worlds, making things much easier for him. 

"Let's see if this world's identity files are easy to forge..." 

Cody was confident. He felt that advanced computer proficiency was enough to hack into various institutional databases, and forging an identity for himself wouldn't be difficult. 

But a few minutes later, he realized he was wrong. 

"Oh, for crying out loud, it's still all paper?!" 

A desperate Cody slammed his laptop shut. He had searched through all relevant information, only to find that neither the Central City Police Department nor the government agency databases were using digital management yet; the computerized management system wouldn't be implemented for several more months. 

"So what can I do now? I can only wait for the digital files to be implemented, or just sneak in..." 

He didn't want to waste any more time, so he left the hotel and headed straight for the street. 

"There's nothing much to do now," he thought. "Reverse-Flash is watching the particle accelerator, so I'd better not appear in his sight. Should I go look for a long-term place to live now?" 

Just as he was thinking this, two people walked by. One was tall, older, and Black; the other was White, holding a cup of coffee. 

"Hmm?" Cody immediately sensed something unusual. The Black man looked a little familiar. 

"I'm telling you, Joe," the man with the coffee asked, "do we really have to go alone? We should at least grab a few people from the precinct..." 

"We can't do that," the Black detective shook his head. "We're not even sure if Barry is right. We have to investigate it ourselves first, and once we find a lead, then we can ask our colleagues for help." 

"Ugh... at least we should take a car, right?" 

"Of course, we'll be doing a lot of driving tonight." 

Cody listened, then secretly followed behind the two—he remembered these two, and he remembered what they were going to do tonight. 

He figured if everything went smoothly, he'd have his own safe house and long-term emergency shelter. 

Eeeench— 

As the car engine started, the coffee-cup detective in the driver's seat casually asked Joe beside him, "So, where are we going?" 

"A farm." 

"No problem." The coffee-cup detective floored it. "But how does he know it's a farm?" 

"Remember the manure in the tire tracks?" Joe replied. "Barry tested it; it's cow manure." 

"Alright, I guess we're going to be busy for the next few days... You know how many farms there are in Central City, right?" 

"We don't need to search all of them, and the Ma Dong brothers might have escaped overnight," Joe shook his head. "Tetracycline, ever heard of it? Barry said there's something like that in cows." 

"What the heck is that?" 

"I asked the same thing—he said it's an antibiotic, used in feed, to prevent cows from getting sick." 

The coffee-cup detective immediately understood. 

"So we're looking for a farm that still uses feed with tetracycline?" 

"Exactly. Our target has been narrowed down to four farms." Joe patted his shoulder. "Barry said we'll definitely find a bullet-riddled Mustang with a blown tire at one of them. Don't worry too much, old man, I promise you'll still make it home for dinner." 

"Alright, let's go." 

As Joe and his partner headed off to work overtime, Barry Allen had already arrived at the Star Labs press conference venue for the evening. 

He wasn't alone. 

"How was your trip, Barry?" 

The young woman, with her arm linked through Barry's, strolled with him, chatting and laughing. Her soft, dark-golden hair cascaded elegantly over her shoulders, occasionally brushing Barry's cheek, making him blush slightly. 

Fair skin, beautiful blue eyes, her every smile could stir the heart of a bookworm like Barry. 

"Didn't you go to Star City? Did you find anything amazing there, or were you just trying to annoy my dad?" 

Chapter 290 The Future Is Coming 

Barry and Iris walked together outside S.T.A.R. Labs. When Iris asked about his time in Star City, he subtly stiffened, then quickly masked his expression with a smile. The situation there was very unique; he'd met a lot of people, but he couldn't tell her about any of them, not even Iris. 

How could I answer? he thought. Tell Iris I know a world-class female hacker and a superhero who protects the city with a bow and arrow? No, no, I promised to keep their secrets. 

So, he changed the subject: "Actually, I saw a lot in Star City, and it made me think about a lot of things—for example, when I left Star City and came back here, I started to reflect on, uh, relationships and things like that, you know? I still don't have a girlfriend, and you haven't had a boyfriend either." 

He was a little nervous saying this, but he mustered his courage and continued, "And you're my best friend—" 

"Of course, you're my best friend too," Iris chimed in with a smile. "Why else would I come all the way here with you to see Dr. Wells's presentation?" 

"No, I mean—" 

"I know what you mean, Barry." 

At this, Barry turned to look at Iris, whose expression was completely normal, and couldn't help but sigh. "Do you really know?" 

"Of course, we grew up in the same house, remember? Barry, we're not siblings, but we're closer than siblings. You might be a little uncomfortable talking about your romantic life with me—but it's okay, you can tell me anything." 

Iris smiled at Barry. "I really hope you meet someone you like, someone who can make you happy." 

Barry had no way to explain her misunderstanding and could only awkwardly agree, "Yeah, yeah..." 

Their conversation hit a snag—at least from Barry's perspective. But he didn't plan to press the issue for now, because the main event of the evening was about to begin. 

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Central City, Joe and the Coffee Cup Detective were driving straight to the second farm. 

"Nothing at the first farm," the Coffee Cup Detective sighed. "Hope Allen's test results were accurate." 

Joe replied, "No rush, we have three more farms. Let's keep looking." 

As they spoke, a cheer erupted from the car radio. 

"What station is this?" Joe asked. "Was the radio on when we got in?" 

"Don't scare me, Joe," the Coffee Cup Detective rolled his eyes, gripping the steering wheel. "Chasing two violent robbers in the middle of the night is already bad enough, and we're out in the suburbs..." 

Hearing that, Joe didn't say much more, just vigilantly scanned their surroundings. 

On the radio, the cheers quickly subsided. 

"Thank you, everyone," a man's voice began, sounding confident, calm, and professional. "My name is Harrison Wells." 

Joe recognized the name immediately. "Oh, I remember him. Barry and Iris really wanted to go to his presentation tonight. He's some kind of physicist, a super genius anyway. S.T.A.R. Labs and the particle accelerator—he's the one who spearheaded their construction." 

The Coffee Cup Detective casually praised him. "Impressive." 

Outside S.T.A.R. Labs, Dr. Wells, in a crisp suit that accentuated his tall figure, stood under the spotlight, wearing glasses. He appeared cultured and refined, yet exuded a confident, undeniable aura. 

"Tonight, will be the starting point of the future age." 

"Tonight, my team and I will conduct a high-speed particle collision experiment here, and this experiment will change our understanding of all of physics." 

"Think about it: advances in fundamental science, upgrades in energy technology, leaps in medical standards—after tonight, all of these will rapidly become reality. The future we see in science fiction movies will come true, and it will arrive much faster than you can imagine." 

As he spoke, he inadvertently glanced at the cheering media and science enthusiasts in the audience, which included academic giants, leaders of cutting-edge scientific laboratories, and other super geniuses in various scientific fields. Whether they were top scientists or simply science enthusiasts, they understood the immense value of tonight's experiment, which was why they had gathered from all directions. This was an experiment that could change the world, be recorded in history, and even be written into textbooks. Harrison Wells would become one of the many shining stars in the long river of human history. 

But at this very moment, his gaze bypassed all of them, landing on the inconspicuous young man, and a subtle smile played on his lips. 

"Tonight, the future is coming." 

At this moment, Barry Allen watched Wells on stage with excitement and reverence. As a CSI himself, he deeply admired this spirited and brilliant scholar. Their eyes met for a fleeting second in the air. Harrison calmly looked away, continuing his speech, while Barry didn't think much of it, just feeling happier that his idol seemed to have looked at him—that's how fans are. 

However, at this very moment, a figure in the crowd quietly approached Iris. With a quick movement, they snatched her shoulder bag. 

"Hey! My bag! My laptop! My graduation thesis!" 

Hearing the shout, Barry immediately turned around, only to see the back of a boy, who was squeezing through the crowd with Iris's bag. 

"Hey, don't run! Give the bag back!" 

On the car radio, Harrison's speech was still ongoing, but Joe was no longer in the mood to listen. 

"Second farm, and still nothing..." The Coffee Cup Detective stepped on the gas. "Shall we go to the next farm?" 

Joe nodded. 

"Can you understand any of that stuff Wells is talking about?" the Coffee Cup Detective asked. "I can't understand a word—want to change the station?" 

"Forget it," Joe reached out and turned off the radio. "Let's hurry and finish checking." 

"Alright." 

In the back seat of the car, Cody quietly sighed. Ugh, it's so boring in the car. I finally wanted to listen to the radio, but it got turned off. 

"System, I want to play tactical simulation..." 

[Please conduct tactical simulation training in a relatively safe and unpopulated area.] 

So he continued to lay still. 

I wonder if Barry Allen has made it to S.T.A.R. Labs yet. 

However, Barry was not at S.T.A.R. Labs anymore; he was at the police station. 

"Are you okay? How are you feeling?" 

Iris looked at Barry with concern. He was currently tilting his head back, a wad of paper plugging his nosebleed. 

"I'm fine, I'm fine..." Barry sighed. "Sorry, I couldn't catch the thief, and he even hit me a few times." 

"It's okay. The officer caught the thief, and you're not seriously hurt. That's already great." 

(End of Chapter)