Marvel Superheroes in China

"I haven't seen superheroes in action for a long time. Will this time it be broadcast live?"

"I hope we can do a live stream."

"..."

In an instant, the streets and alleys of the entire United States were filled with endless discussions.

New York, Chinatown.

This is a gathering place for the Chinese people.

In a Northeastern Chinese restaurant, the owner saw a newspaper and exclaimed, "A superhero is going to his homeland to challenge the country's martial artists?"

The proprietress walked over and glanced at it, then muttered to herself, "This...this is suicide! Martial artists cannot be humiliated. Don't they even understand this principle?"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a middle-aged American man who was having a meal couldn't hold back any longer and suddenly kicked the table over.

With a 'bang', the dishes scattered all over the floor.

Immediately, all the customers turned to look.

The burly American man, his face flushed, pointed at the proprietress and said, "Say that again? What did you just say? You actually said that our American superheroes are no match for you Chinese pigs?"

The proprietress's face immediately turned cold: "Sir, please watch your words."

"What's wrong with my wording? Chinese pigs, Chinese pigs, you are all Chinese pigs. Haha."

"What the hell..."

The landlady's fiery temper flared up on the spot, but her husband grabbed her arm.

"Husband, he insulted us..."

Not wanting to cause trouble, the boss shook his head at his wife, then smiled and said to the customer, "I'm sorry, it was a problem with our wording. I apologize to you."

With a loud 'smack,' the burly man slammed his hand on the table and roared:

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to our superheroes. You, kneel down and say, 'American superheroes are invincible, Chinese martial artists are trash!'"

"Speak, speak!"

"What are you standing there for? If you don't apologize, I'm calling the police and saying you're slandering superheroes and the Avengers!"

"Why are you looking at me like that? Oh? Still want to throw a tantrum? Just bear with it. You're just a Chinese pig parasitizing my America. In America, you Chinese have the lowest status. You want to throw a tantrum at your American daddy?"

"..."

The boss took a deep breath, turned his head, and whispered, "Wife, I want to beat him to death."

"Yes, I want to too."

As the two were talking, all the Chinese people in the restaurant stood up and stared at the burly American man with unfriendly expressions.

silence.

After a few seconds of silence.

Everyone rushed forward instantly.

"Hit him!"

"kill him!"

"..."

The burly American man screamed repeatedly, his face bruised and swollen: "Damn Chinese pigs, you...you dare to hit me! I'm calling the police! You dare to hit me!"

"Do...do you all want to die?"

“I’ll call the police and shoot you dead on the spot. You’re a lowly race anyway.”

Seeing that he was still cursing, a cook couldn't hold back any longer, grabbed a cleaver, and chopped it down on his head.

"what!"

"what!"

A bloodcurdling scream instantly echoed throughout Chinatown.

The American was split open on the spot, but because he had withdrawn his strength, he was not killed.

He ran out in terror, clutching his bleeding head, screaming, "Murder!"

"Murder."

"The Chinese are about to riot! The Chinese are beating Americans! Murder!"

"Help me..."

"..."

In the restaurant, the chef stared blankly at the cleaver in his hand, muttering, "I...I broke the law."

"I am done!"

With a loud thud, the cook dropped his cleaver and slumped to the ground. He wondered if the American might be dead. A cleaver had just cleaved him right in the head…

But in an instant, the cook's eyes hardened again as he glanced at his fellow Chinese present. He suddenly wiped away a tear: "I don't regret it. Boss... please tell my mother that I might be going to jail, and tell her not to worry about me. I... I don't regret it. He... he insulted my country, he insulted Chinese martial artists!"

The boss sighed and nodded heavily.

Ten minutes later, the American was seriously injured and unconscious, and was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. Meanwhile, several police cars pulled up in Chinatown, their lights flashing.

An obese police officer walked in with a large group of reporters and said coldly, "Who used a weapon to injure John Xun? Step forward!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the cook stepped forward: "Me."

As soon as the chef stepped forward, the restaurant owner also stepped forward: "Me too!"

The proprietress also came out: "Me too."

Immediately afterwards, all the Chinese people in the restaurant stepped forward:

"I!"

"it's me!"

"And I!"

"I!"

"Count me in!"

"..."

Just then, the restaurant door was pushed open, and all the Chinese people in Chinatown walked over, giving the reporters and police officers a disdainful look.

"I!"

"Count me in!"

"I chopped it."

"it's me!"

"I!"

"I!"

"I!"

"..."

In the blink of an eye, hundreds of Chinese people were standing beside the cook.

At that moment, the cook was moved to tears. This was his fellow countryman, this was the unity of the Chinese people. This was the shared belief of all Chinese people working abroad—the motherland cannot be insulted! Chinese martial artists cannot be insulted!

Because only the Chinese people know a little about these hidden things, and have vaguely heard that Chinese martial artists are silently making sacrifices in some unknown corner of this world... They are protecting this world. And they don't want the public to know of their existence; even in death, they do so quietly.

The police officer was dumbfounded.

At the same time, the reporter was also visibly shocked...

Chapter 64: Summoning the Sea King

Meanwhile, on the vast Pacific Ocean...

A cruise ship was anchored in the middle of the sea, but strangely, there was no one on board, not even the boatman.

Fishing boats passed by, but they only circled around them from a distance, saying they were ghost ships...

Below the ship, at a depth of ten thousand meters in the ocean, cities stood in rows, bustling with people. Every individual possessed exceptional swimming abilities and could breathe underwater.

At the very center of the city stood a palace-like building. Inside the palace, main and secondary structures were arranged.

Sitting right in the center was none other than—Aquaman, Arthur.

With his hair down, Arthur smiled as he looked at his guest, who was no ordinary person. He was the leader of superheroes and had a nickname: Captain America.

“Mr. Steve, you’ve already learned everything you need to know. I can’t tell you anything more. Mortals are not worthy of knowing.”

Upon hearing this, Captain America felt a pang of sadness. In the eyes of these powerful figures, am I still just a mortal?

mortal……

Ugh……