American Comics: BOSS Invasion

Seth and his two companions were, to begin with, violent individuals, the kind of unruly bad seeds who didn't play by the rules.

Ever since Qishan solidified their Transformation Technique and enhanced their bodies with Steel Release, coupled with the amplification of Chakra, they had become nigh invulnerable, immensely strong berserkers.

With their physical advantage, their pent-up violent urges sought an outlet, leading them to actively seek out trouble with small-time gangsters wherever they went.

Often, before Qishan could finish a meal, the local gangs would already be wiped out.

Sometimes, they'd run into heavily armed biker gangs, facing down storms of bullets as if it were commonplace.

After this happened repeatedly, Qishan grew weary of it. Why were they provoking these small-time thugs for no reason?

So, Qishan laid down a rule: they were not allowed to initiate violence.

As a result, the latter half of their journey was much more peaceful.

Qishan couldn't care less about how they dealt with the fatty; he was busy looking around as he walked further inside.

The mustached man was called Laurist Laukos, a dealer in arms, well-connected and a man who knew how to enjoy himself. He had arranged most of their itinerary, which was satisfactory to Qishan.

However, his name was too long, so Qishan still preferred to call him 'Mustache'.

Compared to the Seth brothers, who were consumed by violence, Mustache was noticeably more astute. As Qishan walked deeper, he was still muttering, "Boss, I've already scouted this place. It's mostly stocked with pork and beef. There are some familiar-looking skeletons in the corners, which seem human, but I can't be certain.

The exit opposite the cold storage connects to a larger secret room. The smell of alcohol, blood, and the sound of music are all coming from there."

Qishan remained noncommittal. He had a good idea of what it was, given the obvious stench of blood.

He extended his right hand downward, and a flat, slender object, like the blank of a katana, emerged.

Mustache's expression changed slightly: "Boss, you…"

Before he could finish speaking, Qishan had already slashed out with the blade.

The blade flashed, instantly piercing the iron gate, splitting it in two.

"Ah!" A scream came from inside, followed by a panicked commotion. With a creak, the upper half of the iron gate fell inward, crashing onto the ground.

Deafening music blasted out, and the flashing neon lights revealed a scene of demons dancing wildly.

Even with the door cleaved open and two guards already dead at the entrance, the people inside the dance floor were still lost in the pulsating rhythm.

The Seth brothers grinned savagely and charged in together.

Moving shoulder to shoulder like a locomotive, they smashed the doorframe down, sending chunks of broken concrete flying, scattering the surrounding people.

Qishan leisurely walked in, the dark blade casually dragging on the ground, leaving a clear, visible groove in its wake.

Without a doubt, this was an underground bar.

Completely illegal, with no semblance of legitimacy. Anything forbidden by law could be bought here.

The people inside seemed even more insane, shaking their heads and swaying to the music, as if only their bodies remained, their souls long since ascended to paradise.

With just a glance, Qishan could sense the aura of souls emanating from many of them.

This was a recently acquired ability, and he didn't know if it was unique to this outer world's laws. As long as someone had killed, the murderer would be tainted with a variation of spiritual particles.

They would never have imagined that tonight's thrill would lead to their deaths.

In the booths along the edges sat impeccably dressed social elites in suits, with even more beautiful women by their sides.

They would often embrace two at once, nibbling on them mindlessly, then pull out a rolled-up Franklin and, with the help of a few beauties, snort all the 'laundry detergent' on the table.

Then they would shout and scream like madmen, shaking their heads and swaying as they resumed their kissing.

And that was considered mild. In the corners, many people were lined up, and the sounds of moaning made it easy to imagine what they were doing.

Qishan's lips twitched slightly.

You have to say that America is a great power. There are no restrictions on business, and with a base of several hundred million people, it wouldn't take long to multiply several times over. But the population hasn't been increasing over the years, instead, it's been steadily declining.

Isn't it because Americans are so good at courting death?

It was only then that the security guards noticed something was wrong, but there were too many people on the dance floor. By the time they squeezed their way over, Qishan and his three companions had already blended into the crowd.

The appearance of four men with vigorous blood energy on the dance floor instantly attracted the attention of many beautiful women.

They fluttered their eyelashes, trying to make seductive moves to entice them to come over.

Some were even more direct, abandoning their dance partners and jumping straight over.

The three subordinates looked solemn, their bodies tense like Terminators, constantly colliding with the ladies.

When the ladies lost their balance, they were quick to help them up and tidy up their scant clothing.

Seeing how gentlemanly the three men were, the ladies' bodies went limp and they could no longer stand.

They had no choice but to sacrifice themselves, helping the ladies lean slightly against the wall.

For safety and to maintain blood circulation, their palms had to keep massaging as their bodies swayed.

Too lazy to bother with them, Qishan emitted an invisible repulsive force, pushing these inhuman creatures aside, and walked unhurriedly to the innermost part.

In the monitoring room, the screens locked onto the headshots of Qishan and his group.

Several men were constantly typing on the computer, trying to find the men's identities in the database.

Behind them, a scantily clad woman with bare thighs held a glass of red wine, gently swirling it, and said lazily, "Haven't found them yet?"

Several men were sweating on their foreheads: "Sorry, we've searched three times, and there's no information in the database.

However, we found a blurry photo in the Mexican border surveillance files. Although the similarity ratio is only 37%, I'm sure it's them!"

"Smugglers?" The woman raised an eyebrow slightly. "Has anything happened on the Mexican side?"

"A month ago, Border's Joy Valley was destroyed! They say it was a fire-breathing wizard!"

"Wizard?" The woman snorted coldly: "Nonsense. Send two people over and kill them! How dare they barge into my bar, no matter who they are, they will die tonight!"

She tilted her head back and drained the red wine, the scarlet liquid sliding down her snow-white neck, causing several men to gulp.