American Comics: Opening Guidance Batman

In the early morning in New York, a light shone through the gap in the curtains, and Schiller, who was still asleep, was awakened by the sound of the symbiote.

"I'm so hungry, I'm so hungry, I want to eat brains... One brain, two brains, three brains..."

Schiller sat up helplessly from the bed and said, "Are you still hungry?"

The symbiote ignored him, and just hummed there alone, Schiller got up to wash, and the symbiote asked, "Aren't they coming?"

"Who?"

"Those brains."

Is co-authoring a superhero a brain in your eyes?

But if you have to say this, there is no problem. After all, there are not many superheroes with brains, and most of them have gathered here.

"I'm so hungry, I'm so hungry, I'm so hungry, I want to eat the blue-eyed brain first, and the brown-eyed one for the next day..."

Schiller found that the symbiote did seem to be hungry, and he kept conveying a feeling of hunger to Schiller's mind through his brainwaves, making Schiller a little hungry too.

He went to the kitchen first, opened the door of the refrigerator, and took out some chocolate to eat, but the symbiote didn't mean to stop crying hungry.

What makes Schiller a little puzzled is that he's been in DC for a longer time this time, and as a result, on the night of his meeting with the godfather, he's almost unconscious.

Schiller is not a person who sleeps a lot. When he usually works, he relies on coffee to refresh himself. He can only sleep for 4 hours a day. This state can last for a week without feeling sleepy.

But the day before he came to Marvel, he was exhausted and sleepy just because he accompanied Gordon for a day without sleep, which made Schiller think of his ability to shuttle between two worlds. Where does the ability come from? What are the restrictions?

After thinking for a while, Schiller found that he couldn't get an answer from the existing clues, so he planned to solve the symbiote's hunger first.

The symbiote wants to eat brains, but Schiller doesn't really mind finding the brains of a few criminals in Hell's Kitchen to eat them. He's not Batman, so he doesn't follow the law of no murder. If you want to find a few vicious gangsters, you can also find them.

"Would you bite off someone's head?"

"Do you want me to do this?"

"No, of course not, you have to know that there is etiquette for dining, we can't be so bloody, it's too uncivilized, you can go straight into their heads and eat the brains, but don't get bloody …”

"Okay, that's fine too..."

He really wanted to bite his head off!

All symbiotes have an ancestor, Schiller thought, so they are all strikingly similar in some ways.

Schiller got dressed and went out, planning to wander around Hell's Kitchen to see if he could meet a few hapless robbers.

Although Hell's Kitchen is not as talented and simple as Gotham, it is not bad.

As soon as Schiller walked to the convenience store on the corner, he saw a man in a black down jacket with his hands in his pockets walking in. He could vaguely sense his current mood through telepathy. Schiller stared at the opposite side of the street. He, sure enough, pulled a pistol out of his pocket and pointed it at the boss behind the counter.

As soon as Schiller was about to walk over, he saw that the store owner took out a larger gun from under the counter and pointed it at the robber. The unlucky robber raised his hands and slowly backed away, and ran out of the store in a hurry. .

Well, it seems that his luck is not very good. The first robber he met was a stupid thief, and he was a novice. He robbed in Hell's Kitchen and dared to use only a pistol. .

Schiller continued on, crossing a small bridge over the gutter, and across the back of an old clothing store.

Hell's Kitchen is a place similar to Gotham, chaotic, evil, and full of criminals, but also has a charming energy and vitality.

Not far from the Schiller Clinic, there is a famous graffiti street. All the buildings here are colorful. The structure of the house seems to be stacked with various colored containers. The alley is narrow and narrow. Small, all kinds of storefronts are full of the retro style of the 1930s, even the hot dog stall, the hot dog cart is a shed made of iron, and the body is covered with all kinds of exaggerated colorful graffiti.

I have to say that this colorful style appears in such a slum, which is ridiculous when you think about it, but it looks very harmonious. Compared with Gotham, it is much more sunny and energetic here.

If there are too many people in the city of Gotham who are bound by evil and sin, and there are too many souls who struggle to survive by crime, then in Hell's Kitchen, in addition to criminals, there are many people who don't want to be bound by the world and take the initiative to escape. The rebels of the orderly society, they live freely and happily here, bringing a unique vitality to this place.

There was a sound of "呲la" on the iron plate, and the hot dog turned over. The young man in the orange and red apron had brown skin and blue eyes. He raised the shovel in his hand, then turned his head and quickly smashed the potato wedges. Picking it up, he said briskly in a Mexican accent: "Want some of my special chili? I promise to keep you awake all day! No charge!"

"You're from Mexico?" Schiller asked, standing at the hot dog stand.

"You wouldn't believe me when I said I was a native American, but that's the truth. It was just my mother who took me over the border. We crossed the border when I was very young."

The Mexican boy's tone has always been very cheerful, just like his actions of making hot dogs, with the unique hot style of South America.

"She now works in a garment factory on the east side of Manhattan, and I've loved cooking since I was a kid, and I've inherited a great craft from her, and the Gonzalez's have absolutely the best hot dogs in Hell's Kitchen! You can't get them anywhere. Such an authentic Mexican hot dog!"

"But isn't the specialty of Mexico taco?"

"Come on, you Yanks can't get used to tortillas. I used to make some tacos, but no one bought them."

"Can you do it? Then get me one. When I traveled to Mexico, my favorite was the tacos and avocado soup."

Gonzalez snapped his fingers and said with an enthusiastic smile, "You're really tasteful, and Gonzalez's tacos are the best in Hell's Kitchen!"

As he said that, he started to prepare tacos. Several children came running over playing football, smelling the fragrance, and all of them gathered in front of the hot dog stand. Gonzalez waved his hand and said, "There are no taco chips now. Come back later."

A few children stretched their necks to look, and found that there really didn't seem to be anything they wanted to eat, so they kicked the ball and ran away. Gonzalez flipped the tortilla and said, "These little bastards, every day. Come over and ask me for corn flakes, that big bucket of corn flakes, they can finish it in a few minutes, but speaking of it, I am the same, I always felt hungry when I was a child..."

"Aren't they really hungry?"

"Of course not, the black kid in the lead, his father is a freight driver in Hell's Kitchen, and what was left on the truck was enough for their family to eat. The rest of the children's parents also have serious jobs, and they are enough to eat. No problem."

"Although New York's slums are also messy, they are much better than Mexico's, and most people here can eat enough."

Soon the hot dogs, taco, and soup were ready, and Gonzalez loaded everything up in a flashy acrobatics, and handed it to Schiller, who paid and stayed After receiving more tips, Gonzalez was very happy. He tapped the table with a shovel and said, "You are a friend of the Gonzalez family. I will give you a discount next time!"

Schiller waved at him, and after leaving, he continued to walk along this graffiti street.

In fact, there is not much criminal activity in Hell's Kitchen during the day. The sun shines on the grotesque buildings, bringing better light and shadow than the regular buildings on the streets of New York. The messy wires extend overhead to the distance. In the alley, all kinds of bells and whistles are stacked and parked, and children's laughter and screams can be heard in the distance.

Schiller found that, just like Gotham, although this place is chaotic, it also has its own unique vitality.

If there are many people in Gotham who have no choice, then many people in Hell's Kitchen are not abandoned by society, but they have abandoned orderly society.

In the same way, the gang hierarchy here is not as strict as Gotham. If it was in Gotham, the person who rushed into the convenience store just now and wanted to rob, the boss would ask him which gang he belonged to and which gang he belonged to. Street, who is his immediate boss, is he trying to start a war, or maybe it will cause a small-scale gang fight.

But Hell's Kitchen is different. The bosses here don't care which gang you are from. If you dare to rob you, you must be prepared for a shuttle. No matter who you are, they will pick up the gun and defend their industry to the death.

To a certain extent, the folk customs here are more simple. Don't look at the warm and thoughtful service of the Mexican hot dog guy, but Schiller saw two big guns in the back of his hot dog cart. Dare to come and rob him, Gonzalez will definitely let them experience the enthusiasm from Mexico.

But at the same time, Gonzalez is also happy to pay protection fees to the gangsters on the street, and the gang members like to come to him to buy breakfast, and he even gives them a discount.

There are not so many tragic and painful stories in Gotham~www.novelmt.com~ Most people are seeking life on the road of pursuing freedom, living as they wish and indulging, just like the rock music that often plays on American road films, revealing a kind of Unique sense of humor.

If Satan gets into Gotham, he'll be ripped off by layers of layers of well-ordered gangsters, and then invited by the godfather to "talk", and perhaps a sap from some bodysuit weirdo. Then he was sent to a mental hospital by the police, and he would never leave without paying.

But in Hell's Kitchen, if Satan comes here, the people here will grab pots and pans and swarm up, chop up Satan and then fry it, and even come to a competition of various national and ethnic cuisines.

Everyone here is a cook, and their cooking skills are not superb, but almost everyone can feel happy in the process of cooking the devil.

This is Hell's Kitchen, a place of chaotic, happy and wild in pursuit of the ultimate freedom.

No one can be the emperor here, and no one can be the savior here, not even a big gang.

Everyone here and their lives represent the ultimate rebellion against those boring and orderly societies. This is the largest piece of graffiti on the map of New York. It is messy but colorful, and no one can erase it.