Seeing Natasha linger, Goul's face showed a hint of displeasure as he said, "Why aren't you leaving yet?"
"Leave?" Natasha raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid the one who needs to leave is you."
Goul was no fool. His years of preparation were for this very moment. Upon hearing Natasha's words, he instantly sensed something was wrong and reached for the detonator button in his pocket. Unfortunately, it was too late.
"Attack!"
With those two words, Chen Long, who had been waiting in the wings, leaped out from behind, locking Goul's movements from the back and pinning his arms.
Even though Chen Long's surprise attack succeeded, Natasha dared not delay. She stepped forward and delivered a chop to the back of Goul's neck. Her technique was skilled, her force precise, knocking him out instantly.
Seeing Goul's body go limp, Chen Long couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief, his grip on Goul loosening.
He thought the matter was settled. The perpetrator was unconscious, and all that remained was for the bomb disposal experts to disarm Goul and hand him over to the police.
Unbeknownst to them, at this very moment, Goul's nose twitched slightly as if something had burrowed into it. The next instant, the unconscious Goul's eyes snapped open, his demeanor turning violent.
Chen Long quickly exerted force to restrain him again, but for some reason, the suddenly awakened Goul's strength had nearly doubled. With a fierce struggle, he broke free from Chen Long's hold.
Escaping the restraint, Goul stumbled back a few steps, his eyes bloodshot. He pointed at Chen Long and Natasha, shouting, "You, you are both sinners! Your hands are stained with the blood of innocents. Tony Stark, I curse you!"
With that, he moved to press the detonator button.
Fortunately, Natasha was quick. Before he could finish speaking, she launched herself forward like a cannonball and sped towards Goul, then unleashed a spinning kick to his chest.
The immense force sent him flying.
Goul, in his backward trajectory, first collided with the glass, which shattered instantly upon impact. Goul flew out the window with virtually no resistance.
**Boom!**
Goul's explosives detonated mid-air, the shockwave shattering all the glass from the thirtieth to the thirty-second floors. Had Natasha and Chen Long not dodged in time, they too would have been affected.
However, the glass used in Stark Tower was specially treated bulletproof glass, difficult to penetrate even by sniper fire. How could it not withstand the impact of Goul flying through it?
Was it because Natasha's kick was so powerful, exceeding the speed of bullets?
Certainly not.
The reason was actually quite simple.
Remember the small metal spheres Natasha had thrown when Goul's attention was diverted?
They were actually miniature robots.
From the outset, Natasha had considered the worst-case scenario and released these small robots beforehand to sabotage the surrounding glass.
Thanks to these robots' actions, although the bulletproof glass appeared unchanged, it had become as brittle as paper, shattering at the slightest touch.
This was why, when Goul flew into it, the glass instantly broke without providing any cushioning effect.
With Goul reduced to dust by his own explosives in the air, the incident finally came to a peaceful close. Apart from the unfortunate office worker who had initially delivered the message, there were no further casualties, which was a stroke of luck amidst misfortune.
Yet, looking at the shattered glass, Natasha remained perplexed. Logically, the force of her strike shouldn't have been an issue. Why had the perpetrator suddenly awakened?
And even if he had awakened, why had he become so manic? He seemed like an entirely different person compared to before.
Natasha couldn't figure it out, and Chen Long was even more baffled. He couldn't understand why he was always so unlucky. Despite his best efforts to avoid trouble, all sorts of bizarre incidents seemed to deliberately seek him out. This hadn't happened before, especially in the last two years; he felt as if he were going through a prolonged period of bad luck.
Perhaps he should have his father divine his fortune when he returned.
Seeing Chen Long muttering to himself, Natasha reminded him, "Mr. Chen, didn't you come here to find a demon?"
"Ah, that's right! I forgot!"
Reminded by Natasha, Chen Long finally recalled that he had come to the thirty-first floor to search for a demon, but the thrilling events had made him completely forget.
With his memory jogged, Chen Long began to act, but after searching high and low, he couldn't find the demon tracker.
"Are you looking for this?"
Natasha helped Chen Long find the demon tracker, but unfortunately, by the time she found it, the overloaded device had snapped in half. Its magical core had been affected by the explosion and was no longer functional.
"Ah, bad luck, bad luck. My father is going to scold me again."
Looking at the broken demon tracker, Chen Long felt like crying. If he had known this would happen, he would never have followed Natasha up here. Now, not only had he failed to find the demon, but the tracker was also broken. He was certainly in for a severe reprimand from his father.
After Goul was blown to smithereens, the police belatedly sprang into action.
Led by the American SWAT team, a large contingent of officers stormed the building. Incidentally, to showcase his bravery and spirit of sacrifice, the police chief also donned a bulletproof vest and joined the charge.
However, with his pregnant-like belly, even wearing a simple bulletproof vest was a struggle. Once on, he looked completely out of place amidst the officers, appearing more like a bystander who had wandered in.
Even so, knowing Goul was reduced to dust, the chief remained uneasy, fearing Goul might have accomplices hidden in the building. Before the raid, he made sure to instruct the officers on either side to protect him.
Goul had controlled the thirty-first floor. Furthermore, due to the explosion, the power systems from the first to the fifth floors were damaged, meaning they had to climb the stairs.
Climbing thirty flights of stairs was no challenge for the rigorously trained SWAT officers. Even the remaining police officers, who frequently went on patrols and chased criminals, had decent stamina and could manage thirty floors with some effort.
But it was torture for the chief.
Since taking his position, he had spent over ninety percent of his work hours in his office. Although he had once been a decorated officer, years of desk work had taken their toll on his body. Forget climbing thirty flights of stairs; after only five floors, he couldn't continue. With two officers supporting him, he wheezed like a fat pig. Upon reaching the sixth floor, he clung to the handrail and refused to move any further.