Queens, south side of the Midtown Tunnel.
There was an industrial access tunnel here that had been abandoned since the 1970s.
The entrance was obscured by dense shrubs and rusted wire mesh, looking like a black hole forgotten by the city.
It was a natural graveyard, perfect for murder and robbery.
7:45 PM.
Fifteen minutes until the Prometheus transport vehicle arrived.
On the maintenance catwalk at the top of the tunnel, Alice was crouching in the darkness.
She wore her signature grey tracksuit and a gas mask on her face, looking like a bat hanging upside down, overlooking the scene below.
"System, load character card — Ai Haibara."
As the cool sensation of rationality came online, the pitch-black tunnel was decomposed into countless data streams in Alice's eyes.
[Air velocity: 3.5 m/s, west to east.]
[Humidity: 85%, conducive to aerosol dispersion.]
[Spatial structure: semi-enclosed tubular, a perfect gas chamber.]
"A natural Venturi effect."
Alice murmured to herself, pulling several bottles of specialized chemical cocktails from her backpack.
They were a mixture of ether, ammonia, high-concentration capsaicin extract, and some kind of neurotoxin refined from pesticides.
She used duct tape to secure the glass bottles to the edge of the catwalk railing, mouths facing down, aimed directly at the inevitable path of the road below.
Beneath each bottle hung a thin fishing line connected to a simple delay trigger.
It was actually just a few steel balls held tight by rubber bands.
With a gentle pull, the steel balls would shatter the bottom of the bottles, and gravity would do the rest of the work for her.
"No need for a hail of bullets, no need for physical combat. Just a bit of fluid mechanics, a bit of chemistry, and a little bit of patience."
Below, the Russian mobsters were setting up Barricade.
Two black SUVs were positioned across the middle of the road, blocking the way.
Over a dozen fully armed Russian thugs were checking their weapons.
The weapons they held were no longer the small pistols used for car repairs from last time, but real AK-47s; there was even a bearded man carrying an RPG-7 Rocket launcher, a cigar in his mouth, looking excited.
Alexei, Kirill's brother, stood on the roof of a car, waving a Makarov pistol and roaring loudly.
"Listen, Boss Viggo said this time we only accept success, not failure. Open fire as soon as the car stops, kill all the bodyguards. Once we get the serum, we're going to the biggest nightclub in Manhattan to take a bath tonight."
"Ura!"
The thugs let out Beast-like cheers, their voices echoing in the enclosed tunnel, causing dust to fall from above.
"Take a bath? That's for sure."
Watching coldly from the sidelines, Alice gripped the fishing line in her hand.
"But it'll be a gas bath."
7:58 PM.
Two blinding headlight beams pierced the darkness of the tunnel.
An unmarked black armored van drove into this road of death, accompanied by the dull roar of its engine.
"Here it comes, move!"
Alexei gave the order.
"Boom!"
The bearded man carrying the RPG pulled the trigger without hesitation.
The Rocket trailed a long tail of flame, letting out a scream in the narrow tunnel before accurately striking the ground ten meters in front of the transport vehicle.
The massive explosion kicked up a wave of concrete, and the shockwave directly forced the high-speed armored vehicle to a halt.
The screech of brakes rang out as the armored vehicle left two black tire marks on the ground and skidded sideways.
Immediately after, dense gunfire erupted like popping corn.
"Da da da da da!"
The Russians' AK-47s spat tongues of Fire, bullets pouring like rain onto the armored vehicle's bulletproof glass and body, sending sparks flying everywhere.
The armored vehicle's doors opened, and several Osborn private mercenaries wearing black tactical vests rolled out, attempting to use the vehicle as cover to return fire.
But under the suppression of heavy firepower, they were instantly riddled with holes.
"Cease fire, cease fire! Don't damage my goods."
Seeing the mercenaries who were no longer moving, Alexei laughed wildly, jumped off the car, and led a group of lackeys to surround it.
"Hahaha, pathetic. This batch of serum is ours."
Like a pack of greedy hyenas, the group gathered at the rear door of the armored vehicle, preparing to pry open the lock with a cutter.
At that moment, they were all gathered within a diameter of less than five meters.
Just then.
From the darkness above came the sound of a snap.
Like the sound of a string snapping.
Followed by the crisp sound of glass breaking.
"Crash! Crash! Crash!"
Three bottles of the specialized cocktail were shattered by the steel balls on the catwalk.
The pale yellow liquid poured down through the gaps in the catwalk, quickly atomizing during its descent due to the strong draft in the tunnel.
Simultaneously, these liquids mixed in the air, undergoing a violent evaporation reaction.
A cloud of thick, faint white mist instantly enveloped Alexei and his men below.
"What is this? Is there a leak somewhere?"
One mobster touched the liquid on his face and subconsciously took a breath.
The next second.
Hell descended.
"Cough, cough, cough..."
The man suddenly felt as if an invisible giant hand was choking his neck; his face instantly turned the color of pig liver, and he began coughing violently, as if he were about to cough up his lungs.
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