American comics: Praising the sun, starting from Gotham!

Xiu En leaned against the concrete pillar, each breath he took a form of torture.

He stayed at the altar for two more days and two nights.

The footsteps downstairs were as heavy as some kind of migrating wild beast.

Joestar is back.

"Archangel! This is all the white flour buns in this area! I'll take them even if I have to steal them!"

Joestar didn't use "bags" to measure; he used "sacks."

He slammed three enormous woven bags down hard beside the rotten wooden plank that served as the altar, making a dull thud.

The steamed buns inside were somewhat deformed from being squeezed, and when piled together, they looked like a small white mound.

Not only were there steamed buns, but also two whole cases of cheap bottled water, and a large bunch of wild daisies that he had somehow managed to get his hands on—this was probably his entire understanding of "sincerity."

"This is what you wanted, buy more."

Jerami nimbly dared to dodge the mountain of buns, like a mouse that even dared to dance on a cat's whiskers.

"By the way, this guy almost got into a fight with the owner of that breakfast stall in Chinatown because he said he bought all the steamed buns to summon angels."

Xiu En forced a smile, too exhausted to even complain: "Well done. Guard the stairwell, and for the next hour, don't let a single fly in."

Joestar pounded his chest, the wound there likely reopening long ago, but he seemed oblivious to the pain: "I swear by my blood! Every speck of dust here will be protected!"

Fall.

The time has come.

The offerings were readily available:

The one in the middle cost $5.

These safety buckles may not even contain any jade.

Replaces "Baihu".

Four pears that look like they've been run over by a car and then restored.

Replace white fruit.

That bottle of cheap rice wine.

Replaces "vegetarian wine".

And next to it, a mountain of steamed buns, a little against etiquette but plentiful and filling.

There was also the Glock 19 that had been stolen from the gangsters, still smelling of blood, painted white and pressed down on several sheets of yellow paper.

The spirit of war that replaces "sacrifice".

Xiu En slowly knelt down and lit the red candles stuck in the gaps between the steel bars.

A faint flame struggled in the eerie wind as Xiu En stared at the gap in the unfinished, abandoned building, gazing at the dark clouds filling the sky.

There is no sun here; this is Gotham.

"System!" Xiu En murmured to himself.

As soon as he finished thinking about it, the previously dormant blue panel suddenly started flashing as if it had been infected with a virus.

The rigid, inorganic font was replaced by a flowing golden light.

[Observation: The Sacrifice to the White Emperor.]

[As autumn begins, the metal element starts to wane.]

The gaze lingered on the safety buckle for a full three seconds.

Shuen swore he heard a "tsk" with a lot of static.

Then, as his gaze swept over the bottle of cheap rice wine and the rotten pear beside it, the "tsk" sound became even clearer.

But in the end, it saw the blood-stained Glock 19 and Shuen's pale face, which was almost lifeless but still tightly clenched into fists.

[A remote and impoverished place, a land of barbarians and foreign tribes...]

Though there is no music of bells and drums, nor gifts of jade and silk, ... I remember your sincere heart.

[The use of weapons as sacrifices subtly reflects the desolate atmosphere of the western suburbs. Appropriate.]

The instant the word "can" fell.

Only Xiu En himself could feel a sharp breath emanating from his lungs.

That's "gold".

In this Five Elements theory, it represents the lungs and the element of killing.

"cough--!!!"

Xiu En suddenly collapsed to the ground. This time, instead of coughing up blood, he coughed up a large clump of black, tar-like, viscous substance.

For the first time, air entered his lungs without hindrance, bringing not pain, but only clarity.

Main Quest: White Emperor Festival Completed.

[Grade: Barely Pass (Lower B)]

【award:】

[1. Lifespan extension: 72 hours (144 hours).]

[2. Special Gift: Western Geng and Xin Metal Qi (trace amount). Note: It can strengthen the physique and refine killing intent, but the lungs still need to be nourished; further misuse is not advisable.]

[3. New module unlocked: [Decision-Making].]

At the same time, a discordant screech of brakes and the loud thud of a car door opening and closing came from downstairs, abruptly shattering the few seconds of tranquility.

"That madman is hiding up here!"

A gruff voice roared.

Surround this damn unfinished building! I want that sick bastard dead!

Just as Xiu En was preparing to use his Glock, which might still malfunction, to meet the thugs downstairs, the blue panel in his field of vision suddenly vibrated.

The aura of battle that had just subsided surged again, changing the font.

[Analysis: This place is perpetually shrouded in darkness, rife with miasma, truly a wild and desolate wasteland.]

[Considering your frail health and sincere heart, I hereby bestow upon you a special decree.]

The text was flashing, and the last phrase, "a special imperial edict," even had a small golden seal icon appear.

Xiu En was taken aback; he was all too familiar with that handwriting.

This is the same person who pretended to be blind and marked "√" when distinguishing between rotten pears and fake jade.

[New permanent blessing added: [White Emperor Palace - Portable Version]]

Wherever this body is, within a radius of seven feet (approximately two meters), it will be illuminated by the light of Venus. It is impervious to clouds, smog, miasma, and rooftops.

[Note: This light is only for strengthening the body, improving health, and prolonging life; it is not for offensive purposes. However, wherever the light reaches, it becomes the White Emperor's sacred site.]

As the text disappeared, before Xiu En could even complain about what a "portable version" was, a beam of light crashed down on him.

It wasn't the stark white light of Gotham's typical searchlights, nor the ambiguous red and green of neon lights, but a pure, golden, pale light.

At this dark and gloomy 5 a.m., on the rooftop of an unfinished building in the Gotham slums shrouded in dark clouds, Shum was like a leading man who had not only been given a close-up by the stage director, but also had his brightness maximized.

Within a two-meter radius, even the flying dust was illuminated with golden light, and the mound of steamed buns instantly gained a sacred feeling, as if it were enshrined in a royal temple.

[Life countdown paused]

[Valid light detected... Body enhancement in progress...]

"Archangel... Archangel..."

Joestar, standing nearby, saw the dust dancing and felt the long-lost warmth on his skin.

For a Gotham thug who may have never seen a proper sun since birth, this was like seeing a crack in the door to heaven.

"Light...it's light!"

Joestar knelt down with a thud, his face pressed against the slightly warm cement ground from the sun, and wept bitterly.

"Lord Golden Bird has appeared!"

"Show off your face, get up."

Xiu En kicked him in the butt. Although the light was a good thing and his body was warming up at a visible speed, he was still a target!

A series of chaotic footsteps and shouts came from the stairwell.

"What's that so bright?"

"Flashbang?! That bastard has SWAT equipment?"

"Stop talking nonsense, it's up there, charge up!"

The gangsters were clearly startled by the sudden burst of golden light from the rooftop, but the pause lasted only half a second.

After all, for five thousand dollars, even if God had blessed them, they would still rush up and snatch the money from God's hands.

Several thugs wearing gas masks and wielding baseball bats and handguns rushed out of the stairwell.

Then they were dumbfounded.

They imagined the wanted criminals to be cowering in the shadows, not like this.

The gaunt man stood in the center of the unfinished building, bathed in a beam of golden light falling vertically. Even though he was holding only an ordinary pistol, the light shining on his pale face made him look like a god who had just descended to earth and was hesitating whether to destroy the world.

At his feet, the mohawk-haired madman, like a vicious dog guarding its master, got up from the ground, picked up the steel pipe, and his eyes were frighteningly red in the backlight.

"What... kind of magic is this?"

The leader instinctively raised his hand to shield his eyes from the blinding sunlight; this Gotham Black Flag officer had never seen such high lumens of natural light in his life.

Xiu En squinted, feeling his physical strength rapidly recovering with the sunlight, as well as the lingering aura of martial prowess.