If passing the buck was an art, Mike Gray was undoubtedly a master, absolving himself of all responsibility in a few words, leaving only the charge of dereliction of duty.
Dereliction of duty can be a minor or major offense, depending on one's power.
Luke was quite sure that if he left today, Mike Gray would face no consequences, at most an internal warning. Then, Gray would transform into a black mamba with venomous fangs, hiding in an unseen corner, ready to pounce without hesitation at the slightest weakness from Luke, tearing through muscle with his fangs to savor the sweetest blood.
Don't doubt it, he would definitely do it, because that's how power is gained.
Therefore, Luke never went easy on those in high positions of power; he would strike them down with one blow, never needing a second. For ordinary people, however, he would often give them a break and a way out.
The Mike Gray before him was undoubtedly the former.
"Mr. Gray, one last time, is Ilya Phil truly unrelated to you?"
"No, absolutely not."
Mike Gray pounded his chest, swearing by God, "What Ilya did has nothing to do with me. I never imagined he would resort to vigilantism."
"In that case, things are simple."
Luke clapped his hands and said loudly, "Linda, bring him in."
With a thunderous crash.
The wall behind exploded, and amidst the scattering dust, a girl of seventeen or eighteen appeared in the office. With a casual lift, she tossed the middle-aged man she was carrying onto the floor, then glared angrily at Luke before flying out without looking back.
This series of actions stunned everyone in the office.
FBI premises are constructed from high-strength concrete mixed with various alloy materials, making them extremely sturdy—military-grade fortresses that can withstand even anti-tank cannons, let alone ordinary firearms. Yet, in the girl's hands, the thick wall was like a block of tofu, bursting open with a bang, creating a two-meter-wide circular hole.
"Who exactly is this girl?"
Everyone subconsciously asked themselves but found no answer. Some senior agents who knew the inside story did recall, "Could it be that alien girl who caused havoc around the world a month ago?"
"Didn't she disappear?"
"Why is she back, and at this moment? Could it be…" Several people thought of something, looking at Luke with intense horror in their eyes.
"Damn it, he wouldn't be involved with an alien woman, would he?"
Mike Gray also realized this, his eyes flickering erratically, even contemplating escape.
He knew better than anyone how terrifying the alien girl was: a body harder than steel alloy, almost infinite strength, almost infinite stamina, speed exceeding sound, incredibly powerful senses… If she got angry, everyone present would die, without exception.
Linda's appearance cast a shadow over everyone, and this shadow was exactly what Luke wanted. The idiom "the fox assuming the tiger's might" referred to precisely this situation.
"Don't panic, everyone. Linda is my friend; she absolutely has no intention of harming anyone. It's just that she prefers to go in a straight line and doesn't like to turn, which is why she smashed the wall. If you're unhappy about it, you can tell me, and I'll be sure to pass it on."
Everyone: "…"
Luke smiled faintly, his gaze turning towards Charlie at the doorway.
"Do you know who this person on the ground is?"
Charlie's eyebrows twitched, his expression gradually turning ferocious. He walked up and yanked off the hood, revealing the familiar ugly face—it was Ilya Phil!
"You fat pig, you finally got what's coming to you!"
Charlie was furious, using both hands and feet to vent his anger wildly. Osman quickly stepped forward to embrace him and lead him away; this was an FBI office, and even if revenge was to be sought, it couldn't be here.
Luke looked around, smiling faintly, "Everyone present should recognize him. Ilya Phil, a senior FBI agent, your colleague. I don't need to introduce him."
Everyone was silent,
their expressions quite remarkable.
It was only then that they realized Luke's objective wasn't to demand an explanation, but to utterly destroy and discredit the entire FBI Metropolitan Field Office, wiping it out completely.
This guy was too terrifying. He had so much evidence, yet he endured silently, patiently weaving a large net like a spider. Only when his prey was trapped and unable to move did he bare his fangs and reveal his true colors.
Just thinking about facing him as an opponent was terrifying.
Luke walked up to Ilya, removed the tape from his mouth, and slapped his ugly face a few times.
"You heard what was said just now. Director Gray said you two have no relation, and that resorting to vigilantism was your own decision, unrelated to him."
"So, I want to ask, are you truly unrelated to him?"
Ilya stared at Mike Gray with eyes that could devour a person. If his gaze could turn into blades, he would surely slice the other party into a thousand pieces. In his years with the FBI, he had wholeheartedly dedicated himself to Mike Gray, committing countless evil deeds and taking numerous falls. To help Gray climb the ladder, even his wife had run off with someone else.
And this bastard now wanted to kick him out as a scapegoat. Damn it! You all deserve to die!
Ilya was enraged, his cheeks turning dark red from congestion, his bloodshot eyes staring straight ahead, like a furious grizzly bear.
Mike Gray couldn't help but take a step back, not bothering to wonder why Ilya was there, and quickly rallied his men,
"Quick, arrest him! Ilya Phil is suspected of resorting to vigilantism, a severe violation of discipline, and has brought an extremely negative impact on the image of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Arrest him, I will interrogate him personally."
After his shouts, aside from his assistant by his side, no one responded.
The agents present were utterly disappointed with Mike Gray; they even harbored thoughts of killing him, so how could they help?
Luke curled his lip, giving him a cold glance, and subtly retreated.
As he left, with a bang, Ilya broke free from his handcuffs, got up from the ground, and with terrifying pressure, charged directly at Mike Gray with his muscular body.
The assistant tried to block him but was punched to the ground.
Mike Gray ran towards the desk to grab a gun, but Ilya was faster, blocking his path, grabbing his arm with his right hand, and executing a standard Israeli shoulder throw, slamming him onto the coffee table mid-air.
Crack!
The sound of bones cracking was so clear. With just one blow, Mike Gray lost all ability to resist, and like a puppet, he was grabbed by the neck by Ilya and violently slammed to the ground.
His head repeatedly hit the floor, each time emitting a thudding sound. If this continued, Mike Gray would surely die.
Several senior agents couldn't sit still and quickly rushed forward, attempting to subdue Ilya. The latter gave them no chance, fighting outnumbered, yet gaining the upper hand with his formidable physical prowess and combat skills.
"As expected of someone from the special forces, he certainly has a knack for it."
Luke shook his head with a tsk, slipped along the wall to the doorway, and seeing Charlie still watching the show, he kicked him.
"What are you still doing here? Trying to get yourself killed?!"
Charlie reluctantly averted his gaze and left with Luke.