Chapitre 246: Collision Course
"Target sighted. We're tracking them now. They're approaching the main city area. Please alert surrounding vehicles and close off any dangerous sections of the road." The helicopter pilot relayed the update to the ground units.
"Roger that. Keep tracking them, don't let the target escape," the veteran officer replied confidently over the radio. He then turned to the younger cop and said, "Keep chasing! We've got more patrol cars joining us ahead!"
The younger officer, inspired by the old cop's commanding presence, instinctively nodded, his adrenaline pumping.
His blood now burning with excitement, he floored the gas pedal, accelerating to keep up.
With the arrival of the helicopter, the chase was growing more intense by the second.
Soon, all the major media outlets in Metropolis caught wind of the situation.
News vans and helicopters from every station scrambled to cover the unfolding high-speed pursuit.
Even the Daily Planet dispatched their lead reporter, Lois Lane, alongside her trusty photographer, Jimmy Olsen, rushing to the scene for the scoop.
Soren, seated on the motorcycle, glanced up and spotted the helicopter in the night sky. He couldn't help but exclaim, "Look! There's a helicopter chasing you!"
Jason snorted, his tone defiant. "They'll never catch me!"
He was supremely confident in his riding skills, convinced that the Metropolis Police Department had no chance of stopping him, someone who had honed his daredevil driving techniques in the dangerous streets of Gotham.
As they entered the main city, officers began deploying spike strips across the road.
These strips were usually highly effective against typical four-wheeled vehicles, as cars couldn't easily swerve to avoid the long row of spikes laid out horizontally across the road.
But when it came to a nimble motorcycle, the spikes were practically useless.
Jason dodged every single one with ease.
Then, with the police cars still in pursuit, he suddenly veered sharply to the right, launching off the elevated road!
The bike landed smoothly in the bed of a large pickup truck filled with cargo.
Using the momentum, Jason propelled them forward again, speeding down a narrow street with no lane markers, then zipping into a nearby alleyway.
Soren, nearly thrown off the bike by the abrupt turn, quickly grabbed Jason's waist, shouting, "Whoa, whoa, whoa—watch out ahead!!!"
They nimbly avoided a pile of discarded cardboard boxes, a string of hanging banners, and a row of green plastic garbage bins stacked high in the alley, leaving the pursuing police cars far behind.
However, the helicopters above only multiplied.
Not only was the Metropolis Police Department sending more choppers, but several media outlets had dispatched their own helicopters as well—including one from the Daily Planet.
Lois Lane, camera in hand, sat inside the Daily Planet chopper, peering out the window.
Turning to Jimmy Olsen, she remarked, "They're about to exit that alleyway—just ahead is the intersection. If they make it past the crossroad and over the bridge, they'll be in Gotham. I doubt the Metropolis PD can catch them before that happens."
Jimmy kept snapping photos excitedly, "Click, click, click," and exclaimed, "This is the first high-speed chase in Metropolis in years! If the Metropolis Police can't catch these two, the citizens' complaint letters are going to flood the mayor's office!"
Lois paused, her mysterious and captivating violet eyes focusing on the motorcycle illuminated by the helicopter's spotlight.
She suddenly noticed the young figure's clothing sitting on the back of the bike.
"Wait a second! They might not be—"
"Hey, good evening! Anything I can help with?"
Before she could finish her sentence, a blond man draped in a star-spangled cape flew into view, positioning himself in front of the helicopters.
His slicked-back golden hair gleamed in the spotlight, and his blue, high-collared combat suit featured golden wheat sheaf insignias on the shoulders.
His muscular physique was perfectly outlined, and his chiseled face bore a radiant, confident smile.
Lois squinted to get a better look.
She knew this guy. He'd been making waves in recent months, appearing in headlines just like Superman had in the early days.
He was going around saving the world, and his abilities were almost identical to Superman's: heat vision, invulnerable body, super strength, super speed, supersonic flight… He was practically a carbon copy of the Man of Steel.
But the biggest difference?
He was human.
Homelander flew ahead, exchanging a few words with the police helicopter pilots.
Then, turning back to the other choppers, he announced confidently, "I've got this, folks. Don't worry, I'll handle them."
With a wave to everyone behind him, he dove toward the ground with a grin, eyes tracking the figures caught in the helicopter beams.
As he finally locked onto the two riders on the motorcycle, he smiled even wider—this was going to be easy.
Scarlet beams of heat vision shot out from his eyes, aimed directly at the speeding motorcycle as it approached the intersection.
In mere milliseconds, Jason reacted with lightning speed, twisting the bike's handlebars sharply.
The motorcycle skidded sideways, barely dodging the deadly heat vision, the tires screeching against the pavement.
The immense inertia from the high-speed movement threw both of them off the bike!
Jason was hurled through the air, tumbling across the ground several times.
His Red Hood helmet cracked upon impact.
Soren instinctively curled his body inward, performing a textbook roll to protect himself from the crash.
However, to his horror, he realized that he was tumbling straight toward a metal road barrier!
The momentum was relentless.
He skidded across the asphalt, unable to stop the rolling motion of his body.
As his neck hurtled closer to the barrier, certain to break upon impact, a broad, warm chest suddenly caught him.
He heard a sharp intake of breath from his savior.
"—Soren."
A deep, magnetic voice resonated in his ear.
In the next moment, he felt a pair of burning hot hands gripping his waist firmly.
Soren lifted his head, peering through the narrow visor of his motorcycle helmet.
His wide eyes met a pair of pale blue ones, simmering with barely contained fury.
His body instinctively shuddered.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone