Wandering America: My kill threshold is far ahead

The cool-looking GT speeder drove through streets littered with garbage bags. Homeless people who had set up camp on the sidewalks on both sides of the street crawled out of their tents and raised their middle fingers. Among them were some hot-tempered old men who didn't even finish the formalities and started cursing.

The car stopped outside Happy Hour. A rich young man dressed in designer brands climbed out of the driver's seat, while the passenger was a bald, black man in a suit and sunglasses, who looked like he had the word "bodyguard" printed on his forehead.

Bang! The door was pushed open forcefully, and everyone's eyes turned to look at it at the same time.

Oh wow, so they've come to bring warmth?

"Bitch, so you were hiding here!" The driver walked straight over, and Sandy, who had just been chatting and laughing, was now panicked.

These two uninvited guests were clearly there to see her, but what kind of entanglement they had was unknown to anyone except the parties involved.

"What are you doing?" In a moment of panic, Max jumped down from the bar stool and stood in front of him, his eyes radiating domineering arrogance: "Kid, this is not a place for you."

"Woman, mind your own business." The other person looked quite arrogant: "I'm here to find that bitch Sandy. She stole my phone and posted some really bad things on my Facebook account. I'm going to make her pay for it today. If you don't want to get into trouble, get out of my way, or I'll take care of you too."

Hearing his "fierce" threat, Max patted his chest, pretending to be very scared: "Really, baby? That really scared Mommy to death."

This caused the entire bar to burst into laughter. After all, everyone knew that Max had a nickname in the poor streets: Mad Max. Although he was a bit past his prime, he had at least been awesome before.

Threatening her is ridiculous. Her greatest achievement was taking down a fully armed mounted police officer during a protest march organized by homeless people.

"Max, don't listen to his nonsense." Fearing a conflict, Sandy quickly explained, "Actually, I'm the victim. This is the truth."

"This man's real name is Vincent Hall. We met on Facebook. He invited me to his mansion, but when I wasn't looking, he drugged my drink. I caught him, so I secretly switched the cups. He drank it and passed out. That's when I realized it was a kind of drug."

"Out of curiosity, I checked his phone and found that his friend list included many girls from poor backgrounds like me. What's worse, after he drugged these girls, he didn't just assault them; he also recorded the videos and uploaded them online to sell to satisfy his perverted psychology. He even threatened the victims, saying that if they dared to report him to the police, he would publish their real identities, addresses, and contact information below the videos."

"Although I haven't received higher education, I know that this is a form of bullying and a criminal act. So I used his account to edit a picture and text to remind girls who haven't been scammed yet what I did wrong. I accept all normal social behavior as long as both parties are willing. But you can't take advantage of your good background to blatantly trample on human rights. Many of them come to big cities to make a living. If they are left with psychological trauma, it will be a lifelong thing."

Hearing this, Ma Jie silently gave Sandy a thumbs up. She may be a gold digger, but you have to admit this girl has guts.

After all, on the map of America, the probability of finding the original is lower than being hit by a plane; some high schools even give out small umbrellas to students for free.

There are about a dozen states that have even banned abortion outright.

Conservatives who adhere to Catholicism and Protestantism believe that a fertilized egg has the right to life, and that abortion is equivalent to "murder".

From the perspective of capital, the poor must have more children. If you don't have children and I don't have children, who will work for us in the future?

"Okay, I understand, Sandy." After listening to Sandy's description, Max knew that with her level of education, she probably couldn't have made up such a coherent story.

"Jimmy, call the police station and ask them to send someone over."

"What do you want to do?!" Upon hearing that the other party wanted to call the police, the rich man named Vincent immediately panicked. He wasn't afraid of being arrested by the police, since his father had plenty of money to hire lawyers. Even if the evidence was conclusive, so what?

If this story of being manipulated by two homeless women from the lower class were to spread on social media, people would laugh their heads off.

"I don't want to do anything." Max laughed happily. "We poor and powerless beggars living at the bottom of society, what can we rely on besides the law? Don't go, kid. You can't leave anyway. Sit down and Mommy will buy you a beer."

"Why should I listen to you? Who do you think you are?!"

Vincent Hall, who had initially been aggressive, gradually calmed down, but after thinking about it, he decided to let it go. There was no need to make a big fuss over such a small matter.

Just as he turned to leave, four burly men in black and white suddenly appeared behind him, blocking the aisle with their arms crossed, waiting for Max's instructions.

"Get out of my way, or I'll make things difficult for you."

Seeing that the other party acted as if they hadn't heard, the braised egg hero, who was responsible for protecting the young master, immediately triggered the protection mechanism.

As the saying goes, strength is never a disadvantage. With a forceful shove of his right hand, he sent the tall and burly Ethan sprawling on his backside, knocking over a table in the process.

It's fair to say this guy is really bad; he's all skin and bones, but he doesn't understand what it means to have perfect balance between waist and stance.

"Damn it, you're hitting someone, aren't you!" His companions, seeing this, rushed over with shouts.

After a few exchanges, the bodyguards beat them up with a banging bell, knocking them all to the ground.

There's no way around it. If professional gamers can't even beat a few random players, how are they supposed to find jobs? Rich people aren't stupid.

"Useless." Max cursed under his breath, then lunged forward, his long, white legs thrusting in a straight line to deliver a powerful side kick.

Holy crap! This is an expert... Ma Jieke's eyes lit up, because this was a standard Sanda move, with a theoretical attack range of up to 1.8 meters.

Braised Egg Man blocked with his arm, staggering as he did so. Max seized the opportunity and immediately followed up with a counterattack.

The purpose of a side kick is not to subdue the opponent, but to throw them off balance, thereby creating an opportunity for a follow-up attack.

The leg made an incredible change of move in mid-air, twisting its hips and pressing down in one smooth motion, fiercely slashing towards the head of the Braised Egg Man.

This completely stunned Ma Jieke, because the official name of this move is Kyokushin Karate's downward split kick, which is roughly equivalent to a heavy punch in a boxing match.

Top fighters can generate over 800 pounds of impact in an instant, and have repeatedly caused knockouts in unprotected fights, making it a true finishing move.

You can tell from their fighting style that it's a training system focused on real combat, capable of ending a fight in three seconds and never dragging it out to four.

You've got something special, lady. No wonder you can win over a bunch of grown men.

I can't speak for other places, but in a poor neighborhood, this level of strength would definitely be considered Valkyrie level.