The next day.

Mark stood in Federation Square, his right hand in fist against his chin, and looked thoughtfully up at the Federation Building, where he was based.

Originally, the exterior wall of the Federal Building had three abbreviated letters: "F", "B", and "I".

But now only F, F, and I are left on the façade.

【B】Gone.

It's a sad thing.

Mark looked at an English letter hidden in the grass not far away and sighed softly, "Jack, do you know how long our building has been established?" ”

Jack, who had been promoted to deputy director overnight, shook his head in confusion.

Mark was even more sad.

Debbie, who came over, would not give any face to Jack because he was already one level higher than her, and said directly: "Boss, the FBI in New York was the first to be established, founded in 1940. ”

Mark nodded.

Turning to look at Jack and Debbie, he asked with a rather melancholy expression: "Yes, the FBI in New York has been established since 1940, and the three letters on it have been hanging for so many years. ”

Jack delivers an emergency call for help to the erudite Debbie.

He's only been in the position of deputy director for less than 24 hours, and he doesn't want to be the first deputy director in the FBI's history to be beaten up by the director.

Debbie gave Jack a helpless look.

Mark looked up at the only two remaining letters and said nostalgically: "Each substation has its own iconic things, the FBI in Washington has the Hoover Building, the California Bureau of Investigation has the orange logo building, and of course our New York Bureau of Investigation also has it, these three letters are our logo, the old director said when he was there, these three letters will not be replaced unless he dies, this is the bloodline of our New York FBI." ”

Jack shuddered.

Debbie whispered with a strange expression: "Boss, the old director passed away at the California Spa Hotel last month. ”

Mark raised an eyebrow and said, "Really?" ”

Debbie nodded and said, "Last month, you arranged for me to attend the old director's funeral." ”

Mark remembered.

looked at a certain letter that fell into the grass, and then his expression changed, and he raised his eyebrows and said: "That's great, send someone to contact a design company, I want to replace these three letters, how can it show the uniqueness of our federal building." ”

He had long seen these three letters unpleasantly, and he had plans to replace them on his first day in office.

It's just that the old director was still alive at that time.

After all, Mark was able to enter the New York branch at the beginning, and it was the old director who named him.

You have to take care of a little incense.

Isn't it?

After saying this, Mark walked towards the inside of the building.

Left behind the federal agents who had not yet turned a corner.

Debbie: "......"

Jack: "......"

Federal Agent: "......"

Inside the office.

Mark's expression was even more strange, standing at the window and looking condescendingly at Times Square, three blocks away from Federation Square.

Nearly 95 percent of the traces of last night's battle have already disappeared.

If it weren't for a few workers hanging a brand new façade monitor over there, they wouldn't have thought that there had been a fierce battle here last night.

This also corroborates another thing.

The Disaster Reconstruction Bureau, or DRA for short, really exists.

It could even be a secret agency like S.H.I.E.L.D.

Look.

It's only been about twelve hours.

Hiss.

It's terrifying.

Half ringing.

Debbie walked in with one and said to Mark, "Boss, I found out, the blue-skinned monster that was destroyed in Times Square last night was sent to Raven Clouft Mental Hospital. ”

Mark turned around and frowned, "Raven Clauft? ”

Debbie nodded.

Mark thought for a moment, then put his bourbon glass on the coffee table and said, "Come with me." ”

Debbie said, "Yes." ”

The history of mental hospitals is similar to that of human civilization.

The most famous one is Arkham in the universe next door.

But here.

Mark doesn't hesitate to name two other mental hospitals that are as famous as Gotham Arkham or even better.

There are green mountains in the east.

So native New York?

Raven Clouft Psychiatric Hospital is the place.

On the way to the Raven Clouft Mental Hospital, Mark suddenly frowned and said, "By the way, is the little guy we captured back then still in there?" ”

Debbie directly used permission to log in to Raven Clouft's database and shook her head and said, "Five years ago, there was a riot in Raven Clouft, and that little guy was stabbed to death by a prisoner. ”

Mark smiled and said, "It's a pity, I remember that this little guy was persuaded by me to go with me." ”

Debbie nodded numbly, but her heart was twitching.

Persuade?

Let's be convinced.

Just after a moment of chatting.

After crossing the country lanes.

The distinctive stone walls of the Raven Clouft Asylum came into view.

Vertigo docked at Raven Croft's barred doorway.

Mark lowered the window and opened his ID directly at the camera.

Three seconds later.

Honk!

Honk!

Honk!

The bars open automatically to both sides.

Boom.

The classic roadster transformed by vertigo let out a violent roar and drove straight towards the mental hospital.

After parking the car.

Mark takes Debbie directly through a labyrinthine but heavily guarded mental hospital.

Soon.

Mark took Debbie to find their old friend.

"Kafka."

"Louis, long time no see."

"Of course, who told you to call Raven Clouft his home, what? Finally can't figure out how to switch from being a researcher to being a researcher? ”

“……”

Mark hugged Kafka, who had short-haired curls and eyes and a Chinese face, and then let go.

Kafka could only shake his head helplessly and change the topic: "Why did you remember this place today?" ”

Mark smiled and said, "I'll give you two chances." ”

"Last night's blue-skinned monster."

"That's right, it's a pity that you're married, otherwise I'd invite you to the pole night club you used to go to the most, I heard that there is a pole night club in Brooklyn whose pipes are still named after you?"

Kafka looked at the time on the office wall and said, "It just so happens that I'm going to study that blue-skinned monster, would you like to visit it together?" ”

Mark shrugged, "Of course, I'm here for this." ”

Not much.

Raven Clouft's three basement floors.

With his hands behind his back, Mark looked thoughtfully at the blue skin that was fixed and soaked in the pool.

It's no different from a Smurf.

Merely.

The Smurfs who live in the Forest of Elves have hair.

This one in front of you?

Light-light.

It is fully in line with the ultimate law that if you want to be strong, you must first go bald......

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