America: A Prodigy of Stereotypes

"Silly Fu, getting divorced means he's not good enough for her."

"Deleted? Why can't his father see his name?"

"It wasn't deleted, we just don't have the necessary permissions. Don't click to view it, or the relevant authorities will come after us, and I don't want to write a report." The technical officer tightly controlled the mouse.

Wade was eating a burrito for lunch in his car, completely unaware that George Stacy had already opened his box using her internal privileges.

"Why haven't they arrived yet?"

Wade glanced at his watch.

He placed a box of donuts on the passenger seat.

After hearing from Li Qun that Gwen's dad was a policeman, Wade bought a box of donuts—a super deluxe box with multiple flavors.

"It's okay to eat one, right?"

A box of six donuts. Wade reached out and picked up a chocolate sauce frosting donut and started eating.

"This is way too sweet..."

Wade took a bite and put it back in the box.

Wade's obsessive-compulsive disorder kicked in as he looked at the box of donuts. He picked up five more donuts and took a bite out of each one to make the box look uniform.

Chapter 213 Threatening the Invincible

"Is it that guy?"

A white Ford van pulled up; it was a police car, and from the outside it looked like an ordinary delivery van.

When George Stacy arrived at the agreed-upon location with her police colleagues, Wade Wilson was being beaten by a group of African American street rappers.

Wade didn't resist at all, he just kept shouting, "Nick!"

"Hey! Police!! Don't move! Everyone, lie down with your hands behind your heads!"

Six men got out of the police van. When the red and blue lights were on the front of the van, the four black men who had beaten Wade looked down at Wade, who was bleeding from all seven orifices, and suspected that he was being used as a sting operation.

George Stacy and her colleagues prepared to call nearby police officers to come and take the black men away.

"and many more……"

Wade stood up from the ground.

“I said, wait a minute. They’re not beating me up, we’re just doing impact training,” Wade said, wiping the blood from his mouth and smiling at George Stacy.

George Stacy, wearing sunglasses, exuded leadership among the six police officers, and Wade knew who he should talk to at this moment.

The four black men who had been beating Wade looked up from the ground at him as he stood up, and seemed to think that Wade had been stunned by their beating and was now in even worse shape.

"What kind of impact training?" George Stacy turned to look at Wade.

“I’m the Queens Street Fighting Championship district champion, and after Thanksgiving I’ll be competing in the New York City championship. These are my friends who helped me with the training,” Wade said.

“You look like you’re about to die,” one of George’s colleagues remarked, observing Wade’s complexion.

“Don’t call an ambulance for me, let them go. I’m sure they didn’t beat me up,” Wade said.

George Stacy took off his sunglasses and hung them around his neck. He turned and looked at the four black men on the ground, their faces pressed against the ground and their hands cuffed.

"You're lucky."

"Let them go."

George Stacy took the handcuff key from her colleagues, knelt down, and unlocked the handcuffs of the four black men, while her five colleagues stood by watching.

“You guys need to remember this guy and stay away from him when you see him,” George Stacy said to the four black men, who nodded gratefully to George.

"Thank you, officer. We will listen to you."

The four street rappers ran away quickly without looking back.

"Why don't you thank me?" Wade twisted his neck in dissatisfaction.

"Hello, Mr. Wilson, I am George Stacy."

"Oh, hello, Officer Stacy."

"The car is there."

"I saw."

“I’m leaving,” Wade said to George.

“Can we talk here?” George Stacy asked.

"Okay." Wade grinned at George, who was bleeding from his nose. Wade wiped it with the back of his hand, getting half his face covered in blood.

"Oh my god..."

An officer returned to the car, gave Wade some tissues, and told him to wipe his face clean.

“I’ve cleaned up what happened last night for you,” George Stacy said without any hesitation.

“I wish my dad was a NYPD officer too,” Wade continued, grinning foolishly.

"Wade Winston Wilson, your Social Security ID is..., you live at..., your email address is..., and your ex-wife is Natasha Ariane Novna Romanova..."

“You investigated me?” Wade looked George Stacy up and down.

Wade rarely sees anyone as proactive as George Stacy.

All Wade knew was that he had made a phone call to George Stacy, and now all of his personal information was available to her.

“You’re a dangerous individual. You’ve entered my daughter’s network of relationships, and I have to check on you,” George Stacy said.

"Is there a plot like that? Like in Korean soap operas, where Officer George gives me a million dollars to leave Gwen Stacy and never go near her again." Wade's silliness was gradually swallowed up by his sassiness.

“I won’t do that.”

“It might be a threat, but I need you to be careful not to let any messy things involve Gwen,” George Stacy said to Wade.

"What if we accidentally get involved?" Wade asked.

There are no "ifs".

“Unfortunately, I am not threatened,” Wade said.

"Are you trying to tell me that you don't care about anyone? That you have no weaknesses?"

Wade gave George what he thought was a sweet smile and nodded.

“Have you ever seen a cruel form of torture in the South American jungle?” George Stacy asked Wade.

“Officer George, you don’t look like a righteous police officer right now.”

“The primitive tribes in the South American jungles would hang up the person they hated most, cut off that person’s genitals, and make him swallow his own thing, with Pete’s whole jaw stuffed in his mouth,” George Stacy said calmly.

"..." Wade licked his lips, closed his mouth, and nodded to George Stacy.

This really threatened him.

After defying death, Wade seriously considered the "challenges" he would face if his immortality were discovered.

The “ultimate insult” lies in the “challenge” that he cannot accept.

“You can tell your friends all you want; I’m not worried about what you’ll say about me behind my back,” George Stacy said.

"oh?!"

Wade understood.

The implication was all too obvious.

Wade had only met Gwen a few times, and George wanted to use Wade to let those who were often with Gwen know George Stacy's attitude as Gwen's father.

“What if Gwen brought her boyfriend home one day…” Wade looked at George Stacy.

“I would warmly welcome him, but I am a conservative father and cannot accept unconventional behavior,” George Stacy said.

“Me too.” Wade blinked.

“You look much better.” George raised an eyebrow as he looked at Wade’s face.

"Really? This is the result of my training in resisting blows."

"This is kung fu, you know?"

"As the kung fu master said, if you want to hit someone, you must first learn to take a hit," Wade said with a silly grin.

"Oh, right, I bought some donuts in the car. They're a new kind that none of you have tried before. I'll go get them for you."

Wade reached into his pocket and discovered that his car keys were missing.

“The car keys are gone.” Wade looked at George Stacy, completely flustered.

“The car keys are here.” George Stacy took the car keys out of her pocket and waved them at Wade.

"How did it end up with you?" Wade was quite surprised.

“I found it on those guys. I knew Gwen’s car keys weren’t theirs at a glance,” George Stacy said.

Chapter 214 You're Number One

"Miss Stephanie Walter, please come to the Colleges Office after hearing this announcement..."

Li Qun had just finished the exam and stepped out of the classroom when she heard the campus loudspeaker calling for someone.

Without a fixed classroom, teachers have no idea where a student will be at school at any given time. Besides waiting for them to appear according to their schedules, the only other option is to call out to them via the school's public address system.

"They're looking for me." Stephanie felt a little flustered when her name was called over the loudspeaker.

“It’s okay, it’s just your turn. Everyone’s the same,” Gwen said to Stephanie.

Stephanie nodded.

The twelfth-grade students all knew what was going on with the campus radio broadcasts calling for people during this period; it was nothing more than about college applications.

Stephanie only moved to New York this summer, and her application process for local New York universities required more steps than for others who had always lived in New York.

New immigrants may even be required to provide language test scores.

"Liqun, Peter, I knew you'd be together. Come with me." The vice principal had been waiting in the corridor, also needing to speak with them.