I made up myths in America

Chapter 39 Completely crazy
Someone once asked curiously online, how long does it take for an adult male with a normal body fat percentage to burn all the fat in his body?
Now Caz Daughtry has given them the answer with his own personal example.

Three seconds! Just three seconds!!

Whether it was the fat on his body that far exceeded that of a normal person, or his internal organs, flesh and blood, or even his skeleton and soul, they were all burned to ashes by the strange black flame within three seconds.

The nearby police officers were horrified when they heard his extremely painful and desperate cries before his death, and none of them dared to shoot Frank again.

After all, looking at Caz Dottery's bloated appearance, we know that he was not a qualified and charismatic leader when he was alive.

Naturally, there is no need for everyone to risk their lives to avenge him now.

Then suddenly, the intense gunfire outside the New York Police Department headquarters building stopped.

The police officers looked at each other, watching the demon with black flames burning all over his body leave and then come back.

"Where is the investigation team?"

Frank asked expressionlessly the old inspector in front of him who had two golden bars on his shoulders.

"At... Staten Island, New York, the 120th Precinct."

Someone answered for him.

Then, when the old inspector, whose mind had been racing, came to his senses, he discovered that the devil had really left this time.

……

According to the latest census, Staten Island, New York, is the smallest, least densely populated, and most suburban borough in New York City.

This is also the reason why the investigation team chose him as the place to detain Wilson Paul.

But when Frank Clinton truly made no secret of his whereabouts, his body ablaze with terrifying black flames as he crossed the bridge and headed straight towards them, George Gently realized he had been too conservative!

This place is still not remote enough.

So many people would rather risk their lives to drive all the way here to watch the fun.

How much free time is this?!

After seeing the drone footage of the dark traffic heading towards Staten Island, George Gently's face turned pale.

He found that as a middle-aged man in his late 50s, it was a little difficult for him to understand the way of thinking of the younger generation in the United States.

Do they think this is a concert of some famous singer?

If you are not careful, you will die.

George Gently shook his head helplessly and had to instruct the members of the investigation team to arrange personnel to stop the vehicles that came to watch the excitement.

If Frank Clinton cannot be persuaded successfully, this place will most likely become a battlefield. Those reckless young people should not come here to die.

"Yes, boss."

The prestige accumulated during this period of time ensured that George Gently's orders were quickly carried out.

But this alone is not enough to completely stop New Yorkers from wanting to join in the fun.

Because there are three ways to get to Staten Island, in addition to the viaduct, there are ferry and helicopter.

Many reporters who smelled the scent of big news chose to take a helicopter to broadcast the entire process of Frank Clinton's figure burning with black flames.

The rapidly increasing number of viewers and traffic in the live broadcast room made them all look beaming. They felt better than ever before and they worked very hard in their commentary.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to FOX Network's extraordinary midday broadcast. I'm your frontline reporter, Emily Moore, bringing you the latest news on Ghost Rider Mr. Frank Clinton..."

From a professional perspective, Emily's opening remarks were both fluent and articulate, highlighting her background as a graduate of broadcasting and hosting.

But who had the time to listen to her explanation at that moment? Everyone stared at the figure on the screen that looked like a demon from hell, exclaiming in admiration or surprise.

Only in the orphanage in Queens, New York, a young volunteer girl named Anna saw this scene and a trace of worry flashed in her eyes.

She recognized the Ghost Rider as the strange man who had come to the orphanage that morning and had a breakdown after learning of Olivia's disappearance.

So her guess was right.

But Mr. Frank, you must cheer up and not give in to the devil!!!
Watching Frank in the live video, who was obviously heartbroken and numb, as if only a shell was left, Anna lowered her head and closed her eyes, praying silently for him in her heart, hoping that God would bless this poor man and help him find the missing Olivia, although Anna also knew that the possibility was very small.

Deng!
Thumb thump! !
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Frank, for some unknown reason, walked slower and slower until he arrived at the 120th Precinct in Staten Island.

No one stopped us the whole time.

It seems that the prisoners imprisoned here were gifts given to him by the authorities.

"Ah."

Frank, who could guess what these people meant without even thinking, grinned and let out an ambiguous laugh.

The last glimmer of hope in his heart was shattered.

He knew that if Olivia was really still alive, the official attitude would not be like this.

After all, that would be a great handle for him.

As long as you control his daughter, you control him.

"But you didn't even leave me this last bit of hope..."

Frank suddenly raised his hand, and an extremely terrifying black flame tornado roared out from his skeletal palm, and the tightly closed door of the police station was instantly blown into countless pieces by the flames.

"Boss, it's Frank Clinton, he's here!!!"

In the police station, Wilson's trusted subordinates, who had been in a state of panic ever since they were locked up here, turned pale in an instant after hearing the huge explosion, and looked at their backbone in horror.

"Haha, what are you panicking about?"

Even though he was about to die, Wilson Paul had a somewhat sick smile on his face.

He sat on the ground with his bloated body in a white suit, looking up at the flaming skeleton of Frank Clinton getting closer and closer. The smile on his pale face not only did not disappear, but became more presumptuous.

By the end, when the scorching heat caused his carefully maintained hair to curl, he laughed out loud.

"Frank Clinton, look at you now. Is this the price you pay for dealing with me? Hahahaha, cough cough."

Wilson Paul's laughter turned into a painful cough halfway through.

Because he was picked up by Frank's hand, which temporarily extinguished the flames.

"You know what I want to hear, Wilson, if you want me to give you a quick death."

At this moment, Frank stared at the enemy in front of him with eyes dancing with black flames, and his voice was as cold and eerie as a devil crawling out of hell.

"Of course I know, hahahaha..."

Wilson Paul laughed so hard that tears and snot streamed down his face. "But I'm so sorry, your daughter Olivia is so beautiful, I gave her away to those big shots. Congressman Stone, Attorney Black, Colonel Joseph, and Federal Reserve Board Governor William Harper all had a hand in it."

"How about it, are you happy to hear the news?"

"Ha ha ha ha……"

At the end of his speech, Wilson Paul laughed wildly, with undisguised twisted pleasure in his eyes.

Everyone looks down on him and treats him as a trash can to be thrown away after use. Well, let's all go to hell together!!!
(End of this chapter)