62: Chapter 62 Gray Leather Bags, the Big Shot Reveals His Own Secret

Then the Men in Black continued to beat them.

There were no words, no communication, no signals like warnings or demands to surrender.

Only the lightning arcs exploding from the blue gloves, precisely striking every joint, every limb, and every part of the two grey bodies that were still trying to prop themselves up.

This was an absolute crushing.

"I said our home planet... our home planet will retaliate..."

A bolt of lightning struck down, cutting off his words.

"Commander Bibi, you..."

Another bolt of lightning swept across his back, knocking him down.

"I cannot... inferior species... impossible!!"

Yet another bolt of lightning lashed his ribs from the side, sending him flying horizontally and knocking over a pile of empty ammunition crates.

Then Rabu cried.

He did not possess human tear glands, but the sounds emitted from his throat and chest cavity changed from hoarse threats to whimpers with every lightning strike, from whimpers to an almost infant-like howling, and finally into bouts of sobbing.

Meanwhile, Commander Bibi's face was pressed onto the stone floor, the blue glove gripping his neck, pinning that once arrogant big head onto a stone slab scorched by lightning.

The grey skin was cracked and upturned in many places from arc burns, his black eyes dimmed, and the muscles around his eye sockets were swollen, protruding more than ten degrees from the skin's surface.

When the two Grey Aliens finally stopped struggling, and even their twitches were reduced to faint nerve-ending reflexes, the two Men in Black stopped the beating.

They took two grey bags from their waists.

One for each, they pulled the drawstrings shut on Commander Bibi and Rabu, then hoisted them onto their shoulders, just like carrying two bags of ordinary supplies.

Drip.

Another drip.

Green liquid seeped from the seams of the bags, dripping onto the courtyard's stone floor with a crisp, viscous tapping sound, then pooling into a small puddle, a wet stain glowing with dark green fluorescence under the moonlight.

The blood of Commander Bibi and Rabu.

Diana knelt on the stone floor, forgetting to stand up.

Keating's mouth was open, unable to utter a single word from the moment the Men in Black appeared until now.

Beatrice's hand, gripping Diana's shoulder, remained frozen in place, as if she had forgotten to retract it.

The three hundred surviving armed death squads in the courtyard, the elites of the Colt Association, and the sentries on the periphery who had just barely recovered consciousness from the spaceship's thermal energy and could no longer bother to hold their guns, all maintained the same posture: rigid, silent, unable to look away.

They had thought those two Aliens who could casually deflect bullets, easily choke the mistress, and command the life and death of the entire estate with a word, were the pinnacle representatives of high-dimensional existence.

Then these two Men in Black wearing blue gloves arrived, and in front of these Alien lords, they dismantled them like building blocks into two bags of slowly bleeding, limp corpses.

Keating's lips finally moved.

He spoke with the voice of a Defense Intelligence Agency veteran, his tone trembling so much that even he couldn't tell if he was stating a fact or descending into madness.

"Deep... Deep... Deep State!"

"He... he... he... they are... they are the real Deep State!"

Diana looked sharply at Keating, then at the two Men in Black standing motionless in the center of the courtyard, carrying the grey bags.

In that instant, her mind pieced together all the fragmented information at a dizzying speed.

The Deep State that Edward and Musk had always believed in was the organization that captured Aliens in the underground garage in Las Vegas.

And now, these two Men in Black had not only captured the Aliens, they had beaten them like two dead dogs, stuffed them into bags, and carried them on their shoulders.

Her speculation had been correct from the beginning; the Deep State had indeed come for her.

It was just that she had mistakenly thought the Deep State were the Aliens; but now she saw that the Deep State were not Aliens.

The Deep State was even more terrifying than the Aliens!

Diana supported herself on the ground with one hand and stood up with difficulty, facing the two Men in Black again.

This time, her posture of lowering her head was no longer just out of fear; it was a deeper submission, a total obedience born from the soul, realized only after understanding that "even if the entire Northrop Grumman armed department and five hundred death squads were stacked in their palms, they would be nothing more than a thin layer of dust."

"Noble Deep State lords! The Hopkins Family was previously blind and did not recognize your honorable faces, causing much offense. I implore you..."

The two Men in Black did not look at her.

Their eye sockets did not move, their facial lines did not shift; they simply stood before her, each carrying a grey bag containing a Grey Alien, like two black stone pillars planted in the scorched and cracked stone floor.

No one behind Diana made a sound.

The hundreds of armed personnel on the periphery of the courtyard seemed collectively frozen in the air.

At this moment, the zenith was churned into chaos by thunderclouds, making it impossible to distinguish day from night.

Immediately after, a bolt of lightning struck down, hitting the center of the courtyard directly.

The lightning faded, and on that scorched and cracked stone floor that the two Men in Black had just repeatedly bombarded with electricity, a man stood.

Dark casual clothes, neatly tailored, no shoulder straps, no badges, no identification of any kind.

Handsome features, cold expression, looking about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old.

The two Men in Black immediately bowed slightly as soon as he appeared.

"Sir."

The handsome man waved his hand casually at them.

"Return once the mission is complete."

The two Men in Black bowed again, then, carrying the grey bags with the Grey Aliens, turned and walked toward the spaceship on the sandy ground that had been struck down by lightning and was still smoking from its tail skirt.

They pulled open the side door and climbed in...

In the eyes of Diana and the others, it was the Men in Black piloting the spaceship away from the estate.

But from Zhang Yi's perspective, a second later, he collected the rented spaceship, along with the four androids inside, into his system's inventory, as if retrieving a set of completed quest items from a courier station.

Yet in the eyes of everyone at the scene of the estate, the silver disc lifted off from the sandy ground and disappeared into the horizon.

In the empty courtyard, only the handsome man remained.

Then he spread his hands, and on those slender, clean, callus-free palms, a pair of blue gloves appeared out of thin air.

He slowly put the gloves on his hands, spreading and closing his fingers, as if putting on a pair of old gloves that he hadn't worn in a long time.

No one dared to show any surprise at this.

They had just witnessed a spaceship hovering, seen anti-gravity beams, and seen the entrance method of lightning striking people down from thunderclouds.

A pair of gloves appearing out of thin air no longer constituted a shock for these people who had already experienced too many cognitive collapses within half an hour.

Diana took a step forward.

She wanted to speak, wanted to say something, at least to figure out who this "Sir" was, how to address him, and how he intended to deal with the Hopkins Family next, but the handsome man didn't even look at her.

He raised his gloved right hand, palm outward, and pressed it down nonchalantly.

The gesture was not heavy, without any fluctuation, but when it fell, it was as if an invisible silence force field pressed down on everyone's throats simultaneously.

Diana stopped in her tracks, Keating stopped in his tracks, Beatrice stopped in her tracks, and all the armed personnel on the periphery stopped in their tracks.

The handsome man walked unhurriedly through the courtyard.

His leather shoes stepped on the broken stone pieces shattered by lightning, making a crisp crushing sound. Occasionally, he would kick a piece of scorched gravel, stop to glance down, and then continue walking forward.

His gaze swept from the seamless glass curtain wall of the estate to the old cycad tree in the center that had been scorched half-dead by thermal radiation, and from the old cycad tree, he swept to the partition wall in the east wing that had been crashed through by his Men in Black, leaving a human-shaped hole.

"It's been a long time since I've been here."

"Some places... are not quite the same as in my memory."

Diana looked up.

Her throat was still red and swollen from Commander Bibi's glove, and her voice was still hoarse, but she managed to squeeze out the words:

"You... have you been here before?"

The handsome man glanced at her.

There was no deliberate condescension in that look, nor any sense of closeness; it was purely stating a fact.

"Yes."

"At that time, the owner of this place was called Leo Hopkins."

The blood drained from Diana's face in an instant.

Leo Hopkins, a name she had only seen in the family archives, ranked at the very top of the Hopkins Family lineage chart, her great-grandfather.

This man, who looked no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight, had just used "at that time" to refer to her great-grandfather's era, his tone calm, as if mentioning an acquaintance he had met a long time ago.

The handsome man looked at the undisguised shock on her face and smiled slightly.

The smile was very faint, just a twitch of the corners of his mouth, as if on some boring afternoon, he had suddenly remembered an innocuous old matter and was correcting it in passing.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, my name is Zhang Long."

"I work for the Federal Urban Pipeline Maintenance Department."

He slowly put his blue-gloved right hand behind his back, standing in the center of the sandy pit filled with scorch marks, rubble, and the impact site of the spaceship, his tone as calm as if introducing a routine job.

"Or as you often call it, the Deep State."

Although Diana and everyone present had already inferred Zhang Long's identity from the Men in Black's entrance and their respectful attitude toward him, the shock caused by the four words "Deep State" spoken directly by Zhang Long himself was completely different from the inference.

Inference is like touching a wall in the dark; confirmation is seeing your own name carved on that wall with your own eyes.