From picking up corpses to becoming a true god of America

Ye Xiao followed a group of thugs and discovered that they had all come to the community center at the same time.

Are they trying to put up a stubborn resistance here?

Gunshots rang out from inside, and screams of agony filled the air.

Ye Xiao couldn't help but think.

No, they didn't seem to be putting up a last-ditch resistance; rather, they seemed to be rushing in to help.

The once pristine white corridors of the community center are now littered with corpses.

The obese, middle-aged white man, a cigar dangling from his mouth and a grim face, watched helplessly as his men were slaughtered like animals.

"Damn it, Smith, is this what you call a trivial matter?"

Beside him, Chief Smith also gritted his teeth.

If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed that there were people in this world who were not afraid of guns.

Do we really have to use explosives and cannons to completely eliminate him?

Klingen had already lost an arm and was covered in wounds.

But with the help of the eerie, black slime, his eyes were completely bloodshot, and he fought with incredible ferocity.

"Damn it, what were you thinking? Why didn't you send the National Guard to help?"

The fat man frowned, looking extremely distressed.

Nearly half of the people he led died at the community center.

Fortunately, I had spoken to Chief Smith beforehand and left the other half outside, so he wouldn't suffer any serious consequences.

"There's no other way; we have to use that trick!"

Chief Smith clenched his fists, his face turned ashen, a fierce glint appearing in his eyes, and he gritted his teeth and shouted.

"Everyone, put on your gas masks!"

Whoever this guy is, he wants him dead!

"Holy crap, are you serious, old man? You don't want to be the bureau chief anymore?"

"They even managed to get their hands on those contraband items?"

The fat man quickly threw away his cigar, grabbed a gas mask from his side, and urged his men to escape as fast as they could.

Soon, a thick green toxic fog rolled in from under the riot shields, completely engulfing the entire corridor.

Klingen shuddered the moment his body was touched.

His extraordinary abilities are not invincible.

Ye Xiao granted him an extremely powerful self-healing ability; the black, sticky substance surrounding his body could help him heal at any time.

At the same time, this black, viscous liquid can also store power.

Relying on these two characteristics, Klingen underwent training that pushed the limits of human endurance, even using large amounts of steroids, to forge an extremely powerful and terrifying physique, with his strength usually stored in his slime.

However, this ability is also limited.

Although Klingen was physically fine, he was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Just dealing with those armed bandits had made him lose control of his emotions, almost turning him into a walking corpse.

What's more, these eerie green fogs now?

No, we have to leave first!

"This is a completely new toxin; I obtained it from the lab through connections."

Smith, wearing a gas mask, calmly watched Klingan struggle in the toxic fog.

"It not only affects the central nervous system, but it is also corrosive to the skin."

"You're fucking ruthless. No wonder you came back from the Middle East battlefield."

The obese middle-aged man couldn't help but pull his gloves tighter.

Those who served in the military overseas have dirty hearts!

The better ones are those who resell various supplies.

The worse ones, like Smith, use all sorts of poisonous gases without any psychological burden.

But the fat guy could understand.

After all, Smith was also driven to a dead end.

If this monster isn't taken down soon, he'll be doomed, and the Seattle gangs will face annihilation.

So at this moment, the police and the gang mysteriously joined forces, attempting to kill the monster.

The intense poisonous fog nearly destroyed Klingen's nerves.

Although his body was still recovering, he collapsed heavily to the ground, barely breathing.

Chief Smith rushed forward.

A powerful flashlight pierced through the thick green fog, illuminating the face of a young white man.

When Director Smith saw Klingen's young face, he felt as if a bell had been struck in his mind.

"You, you're not Seattle Superman! Who are you?!"

"I am Robin."

With his last ounce of strength, Klingen forced a sly smile.

Damn it!

Who the hell is Robin?

It's so weird.

This was far beyond Smith's imagination.

He originally thought the suspect should be at least middle-aged, had overseas service experience, and possess some kind of peculiar ability to withstand bullets.

But Chief Smith never expected this.

The person who committed dozens of serious crimes in Seattle was actually a teenager with acne on his face!

Where exactly did this go wrong?

Just as Chief Smith was at a loss, chaotic screams suddenly came from outside.

"Help! There's poisonous fog!"

"Damn it, run! Someone poisoned it!"

The fat man's expression changed, and he shouted angrily.

"Damn it, Smith, how dare you play me like that?"

"This is none of my business!"

Chief Smith's expression changed, and he quickly stopped his subordinates.

"Turn off the valve quickly! Hurry!"

"Chief, I've already locked it!"

Mike, the supervisor in charge of operating the valves, looked helpless and flustered.

The stainless steel cylinder beneath him had been shut off, so where did the poisonous fog outside come from?

Everyone turned to look out and saw that a thick, scarlet fog had somehow spread around the perimeter of the community center, enveloping the entire long street and completely isolating it from the outside world.

This bizarre scene plunged everyone into deep fear.

Could the real Seattle Superman be out there?!

When this absurd idea popped into his head, Chief Smith panicked.

In this fishing operation, did they become the fish that got caught?

Chief Smith slumped to the ground, his face full of dejection.

"Damn it, who the hell is he?!"

Manager Mike finally lost his temper and, with his men, dragged Klingen outside.

In his view, the fact that Seattle Superman has never targeted the police suggests that he must have some fear of public power.

Moreover, Mike still has that man's accomplices in his hands, so it's not impossible to have a proper talk.

The eerie, scarlet poisonous mist, seemingly alive, kept pouring in.

The bandits who were swallowed up screamed and fell to the ground, unable to escape.

Mike was both terrified and furious, and immediately ordered his men to lift Klingen up.

"Hey! You bastard, show me who this is!"

Mike pressed the gun against Klingen's lowered head.

"If you don't want me to blow his head off, you'd better stay right there!"

"..."

Upon hearing this, everyone was surprised to find that the eerie poisonous fog seemed to have truly stopped!

They were only a foot away from them.

Great! Mike never expected that his desperate idea would actually work!

It seems that this real Seattle Superman is also a madman with superhero syndrome!

That makes things much easier.

Based on Mike's many years of experience as a police officer, he could easily get him to compromise with just a little threat.

However, just when Mike was extremely confident.

A figure suddenly fell from the sky and crashed heavily to the ground in front of them.