hotmtlnovel Page 124
Page 124
"You're asking for it, you bastard! Do you know you're blocking the way?" the truck driver roared, leaning halfway out of the window, causing the Santa Claus doll hanging on the rearview mirror to sway.
“First of all, I’m standing on a pedestrian crossing, and secondly… I hope you really did remember to buy insurance.” Ian stepped forward and kicked the stopped truck twice.
The wheels of two trucks were blown off on the spot.
Before the driver could react...
Ian then tore off the truck's fuel tank with his bare hands and threw it onto the back of a pickup truck—a passing driver probably realized he had encountered a gift from nature.
"Om~"
He floored the gas pedal and sped off with his haul, disappearing around the street corner in the blink of an eye. However, his escape speed was nowhere near as fast as Ian's.
"Hello! Is this 911? I've been robbed by a little kid! Yes... he stole my gas tank, and he had an accomplice. It must have been a premeditated crime!"
“He didn’t use any tools, he just removed my fuel tank with his bare hands, and kicked away six of my truck wheels, so now I have to change my spare tire.”
"What? You think I'm joking? I'm not joking!"
"What do you mean, 'please provide my identification information first'? Damn it! Don't think I don't know you're trying to be racist! You white people only protect your own race!"
“My extended family went through so much trouble to smuggle themselves over from the Curry Country, but you won’t give them legal status. This is a lack of freedom and democracy!”
"Is it a moral decline... Hey, hey, hey?"
The incessantly rambling Indian driver was in a helpless rage over the phone call that had already been disconnected.
Must respond to every emergency?
nonexistent.
It is necessary to distinguish between genuine and false alarms.
Operators in the US police force have considerable autonomy in this regard.
……
After running for two blocks, Ian finally stopped, not because he was too tired, but because his shoes had long since burst open and he didn't want to continue performing barefoot running for passersby.
"No, this world can affect me again? Is this a good thing or a bad thing?" Ian was puzzled. No one knew what the so-called creator meant.
Instead of giving Ian a suspended position above his head, He created a separate title for him: "Saint of Merit," a title that would be visible to everyone wherever he went and grant him various privileges.
That damned Creator.
They even encouraged the will of the universe to use the Great Fortune Celestial Venerable to scare the little boy!
This is something that uncles and aunts can tolerate, but Ian... After weighing the pros and cons, Ian chose to tolerate it as well, after all, fortunes can change in the future.
He still needs to grow.
To mingle on someone else's turf.
In any case, you have to endure a little bit of anger.
"Damn it! Why isn't this new Marvel world a world where trucks weren't invented?!" Ian wasn't actually afraid of the Great Fortune Celestial.
No matter how many trucks or planes were thrown at him, he would remain completely unmoved. He was only slightly intimidated by the Great Fortune Celestial Venerable, whose four wheels were on the ground and showed signs of movement.
No one can explain why.
Perhaps the aftereffects of time travel are just that hard to erase.
“I felt the malice of the Creator.” Ian stared at his left shoe, which was completely unglued and the toe of the shoe grinned as if mocking his “flying kick to the truck” feat.
"If you'd said it could have affected me earlier, I would have used my fists." Ian muttered, rubbing his hands together, and noticed a warm yellow tent set up across the street.
[Winter Giveaway - Free Shoes and Clothing, Everyone Receives a Share.]
This is another scenic view in America.
Wealthy individuals or churches often provide charitable aid for reasons such as votes or other interests. Since it's a matter of free lunch, Ian immediately stepped forward to thank the wealthy individuals for their generosity.
Merry Christmas! May you have a warm winter!
A volunteer handed me a pair of sturdy work boots.
“I’m not very happy, but… thank you.” Ian took the brand-new boots, squeezed the soles, felt that the quality was good, and then quickly picked up another pair from the pile of shoes.
The volunteer didn't stop him because Ian smiled at her. Being handsome gives you an advantage, even when you're homeless.
"Are your eyes wearing colored contact lenses? They look so beautiful."
She even gave Ian a lovestruck look.
"Thank you."
Ian thanked him again and left politely. He first changed into new shoes, then tied another pair of shoes together with shoelaces and hung them around his neck like sausages.
on the street.
Crowds of people.
Cars flowed in and out.
There was a vitality that Ian had never felt in that frozen world before.
He looked around.
Suddenly I felt someone tugging at my sleeve.
"Sir, would you like to buy some? It will help a poor little boy have enough money to buy a PSP." There were even children selling cookies on the roadside.
He also became entangled with Ian.
“It only costs five dollars, and I’ll even pray for you to pray to Jesus.” The little boy in the knitted hat held up a tin box containing a few rather abstractly shaped cookies.
"Then talk to him a bit more and ask him to give you a game console." Ian wasn't fooled. He felt that the little boy's craftsmanship didn't deserve a PSP, which he didn't even have.
Please help me, please help the child.
The little boy's eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked pitiful.
"Who isn't a child at heart? If you keep bothering me, I'll report your mother and grandmother for sexually harassing me. Trust me, I'll win."
Ian's deep voice intimidated the little boy in front of him.
"..."
The boy could only abandon the tricks Ian had already learned, watching fearfully as Ian gradually disappeared around the street corner. His young heart, however, had already been deeply shaken by what it had become.
"It's so annoying to have to start socializing all over again in this world." Ian felt a little melancholy as he wandered aimlessly through the streets, the dazzling array of shops making his head spin.
It's started snowing.
The weather is quite unpredictable.
A cold wind swirled snowflakes and crept into Ian's collar, making him shrink back. It did have a bit of an apocalyptic winter feel to it, but the temperature wasn't nearly that cold yet.
Greenwich Village, Black Street
Ian walked past the street sign. On both sides of the street, Christmas decorations shone brightly. Pedestrians hurried by, wrapped tightly in their coats, their breath lingering briefly in the air before dissipating.
In front of a three-story Victorian-style brownstone townhouse.
The small table covered with purple velvet was quite eye-catching.
There was a crystal ball, tarot cards, and a crooked sign on it.
Tarot Reading
Behind the small table sat a horse-faced man wearing a cheap red cloak. His beard was neatly trimmed, but his hairstyle looked wild, as if it had been ravaged by a tornado.
“Young man! You look worried. It’s obvious you’ve been having a lot of bad luck lately. This is a sign that your destiny star is dim. Why don’t you try a tarot reading?” He was shuffling tarot cards with exaggerated movements when he saw Ian pass by and immediately gave him a mysterious smile.
They look exactly like fraudsters.
"I do not need it, thank you."
Ian didn't stop, maintaining basic politeness, politely declining the other person's offer before continuing on his way. Behind him, the fortune teller sighed regretfully, lamenting the sluggish market.
In this regard.
Ian didn't hear it.
His attention had been drawn to the television in the window of the electronics store on the street.
"What the hell!"
Ian's golden eyes narrowed sharply.
The decadent mood had completely vanished.
Instead, a trembling astonishment filled the air. On the screen, a figure in a familiar uniform walked onto the stage, and then the audience, resembling a talent show, erupted in enthusiastic cheers.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" The host's enthusiastic voice reverberated throughout the street through the surround sound system, "Let's welcome tonight's grand finale star—Spider-Man Cyclone!"
As soon as this sentence came out.
It immediately attracted a crowd of people on the street to gather around the television in the shop window.
"It's Spider Whirlwind!"
"Oh my god! I love him the most!"
"His whirlwind jet is a classic that no one else can surpass to this day!"
……
The onlookers around him were all whispering among themselves.
Ian wouldn't listen to a word.
He rubbed his eyes and looked again at the person on the audition stage. The clothes he was wearing were no different from the superhero costume he remembered, but now the young boy was standing on the stage.
Peter Parker
The boy's name was displayed on the television screen.
"What the hell!"
Ian couldn't help but take a few steps back.
Spider-Man Peter Parker, this superhero was actually wearing a sequined modified suit, with a toothy grin cutout in his mask. On stage, he first did a split and then a backflip!
"Ladies and gentlemen! The New York Boys are here! Where's the applause and screams?" Peter Parker grabbed a rope from the stage and levitated himself like a spinning top. His red and blue bodysuit was covered with glowing LED lights, and the Spider logo on his back had been replaced with exaggerated fluorescent pink polka dots.
music.