American Comics: BOSS Invasion

"Hey, you hick, hand over the money, or I'll splatter your brains!"

In a small alley not far from the restaurant, two burly black men, armed with short guns, surrounded Will from the front and back.

Their skin had a natural camouflage in the darkness, and in the dim light, one could only barely make out an outline and two rows of white teeth.

The most eye-catching thing was the short gun in his hand.

Will scratched his head, feeling a little depressed, and sighed softly.

"Although this was my original intention, you guys popped up so quickly, making me feel a little embarrassed. Does the fact that I'm a country bumpkin make me easily identifiable to anyone?"

"Yellow-skinned devil, what nonsense are you talking about? I'm telling you to hand over the money, right now!"

The black man urged impatiently.

"Okay, okay, don't be anxious."

Will suddenly threw something, hitting the black man in front of him right in the face, causing him to stagger and his head to involuntarily tilt back.

Will flashed forward, swung his right leg, and kicked the other man in the groin.

Ooooh ~

Accompanied by a scream, the black man involuntarily soared into the air, followed by darkness before his eyes, as Will's right leg moved upward, directly kicking the black man in the face.

Under the enormous force, the black man drew an arc in the air and fell directly out of the alley.

He slid several meters on the ground before slowly coming to a stop, and then there was no more movement.

At this time, the gun that the black man had inadvertently thrown into the air was rotating as it fell.

Will reached out and grabbed it, pointing it at the opposite side with a dashing movement.

This series of movements was as fast as lightning, and the black man behind him had not reacted from beginning to end. How could such a big change have occurred just after he blinked?

After a two-second stalemate, Will said, "Is this kind of thing your weapon? It doesn't seem to be anything special."

The black man was a little nervous: "What do you want to do? I warn you, this city is protected by superheroes, don't mess around!"

"I was just about to meet him!"

Will replied casually, examining the short gun, and said, "Do you pull it here?"

As he said that, he slowly pressed down on the trigger.

The black man's head was sweating profusely, and he quickly raised his hands, repeatedly saying: "Don't shoot, don't shoot, damn it, you're a lunatic! It's just a robbery, does it have to escalate to murder?

How about we make a deal? You let us go, and we'll pretend this never happened?"

"Actually, I have a question, how did you guys know I came from the countryside?"

Will had a sincere expression, this title was already becoming a problem for him.

When he went to the capital before, many people could tell at a glance that he came from a fishing village, which made the young man very depressed.

He didn't expect that when he came to the New World, someone would still call him a country bumpkin.

The black man was stunned, opened his mouth, and after a long while, he smiled bitterly and said, "I don't know if you believe it or not, but I don't know why I called you that name either. To be honest, that name suddenly popped into my head when I saw you."

Will shook his head, "It seems there's no solution! Forget it, give me seven thousand dollars and you can leave!"

"Seven… seven thousand?" The black man's eyes widened, and he couldn't help but curse, "If we had seven thousand dollars, how could we be robbing? I think you should just kill me!"

"Oh!" Will responded and directly raised the muzzle of the gun.

"Wait, wait! Damn it, are you serious?"

Will's indifferent expression obviously gave the black man a bad premonition.

After the muzzle was pointed at him again, he even had the illusion that the god of death was about to descend.

He stared at Will quietly for a while, then suddenly threw the gun on the ground hatefully.

"Damn it, Francis, I'm going to kill you when I get back this time, look at the lousy idea you came up with!"

The black man took off the running bag on his arm and threw it over directly.

"There are twelve credit cards in here. If you're lucky, it might be more than seven thousand dollars, but you have to be quick, it won't work after tonight.

How about it, buddy, you get what you want, let us go!"

As the sound of footsteps gradually faded away, the black man covered his chest and slowly regained his composure. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, took a long breath, gently picked up the gun, and then slowly moved towards his companion.

"Hey, idiot, wake up! The police are coming!"

He shouted twice, but when he saw that the other party didn't move, his heart sank.

He swallowed his saliva, slowly squatted down, and forcefully turned his companion over.

A wolf howl, as if its tail had been stepped on, resounded through the air, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps fleeing in a panic, like a stray dog.

Only a disfigured corpse was left at the entrance of the alley, lying flat on the cold ground, and a mixture of red and white liquid was slowly seeping out from the completely sunken face.

On the other side, Mr. Fashion was rapidly moving across the rooftops.

The speed was extremely fast, and the movements were gentle, like a ninja.

Each time he leaped, a vague shadow would suddenly appear beside him, gradually solidifying as he ran, and finally transforming into a completely new individual.

After coming out of the restaurant, and rushing towards the place where the noise came from, a large number of perverted modified people had appeared behind Mr. Fashion.

Mr. Fashion never looked back, and he even kept his eyes closed while running, the arc of his mouth turned up very high.

"So that's how it is, so that's how it is, is that how it is?"

When he subconsciously wanted to mobilize his subordinates, Mr. Fashion sensed that there seemed to be many people hidden in his shadows.

He tried to call them, and sure enough, one of them materialized, becoming a member of the previous Fashion Legion.

If he remembered correctly, his legion should have all died, just like him.

He didn't expect that they would be reborn in this way.

Crossing the New World is really wonderful, he couldn't help but want to sing a song to praise this great miracle.

"Dolga!"

"Ha! Lord Fashion!"

With a light call from Mr. Fashion, a figure suddenly窜 out, shrouded in a black windbreaker, the upper body exposed solid muscles, and obvious suture marks, wearing a black top hat, holding a dagger in his hand, a wild smile appeared under the red short hair.

"Go! My Guima! Sneak into the battlefield and kill everyone!"

"Ha! Understood!"

The red-haired windbreaker man left with a wild smile, jumped three or two times on the tricky corners of the house, and disappeared directly from sight.

Mr. Fashion chuckled: "Kill a few more, I am very interested in the human body of my New World."