I put monsters and super powers in America

The local area has even begun recruiting a "pure militia" that is independent of the Pentagon and the National Guard system and funded by the special district's finances.

Some reports also pointed out that under the instructions of James Lincoln, the SAR authorities are also preparing to set up so-called "foreign affairs offices" in countries and regions ruled by the far right, such as Argentina, Hungary and Italy.

The chief dragon exclaimed, "Wow, this is way more than what the Sioux Reservation has done."

Independent legislative, law enforcement, administrative powers, independent military, and independent diplomacy are all in place!

Although these military and diplomatic affairs are theoretically subject to supervision and "guidance" by federal authorities, there are also strict restrictions on the use of militias.

But everyone knows that the provisions are just a name for the extraordinary.

Van Buren District is more like a vassal state or protectorate than a special district of the United States.

"Selling national sovereignty to 'saints' and 'regions' in exchange for a 'saint' idol with a legitimate family background, capable of fighting and resisting, and the absolute loyalty of millions of fanatical conservative voters behind him. The president has made a very clever deal."

"But there already existed a Sioux 'state within a state' in South Dakota, possessing extraordinary power. Now, there's a de facto 'redneck republic' with equally extraordinary power. This land is being torn apart into separate, independent feudal territories at a visible rate. Is it California or Florida's turn next?"

The Lord Dragon sneered, as if he had already seen this huge, sick but still powerful empire being torn into a group of extraordinary territories that would obey orders but not decrees in the near future.

And all this chaos will be transformed into the purest wish power to nourish him.

Regardless, he'd earned another 50,000 points of willpower from this operation. Most of it came from fervent fans who'd purchased Saint merchandise, and a smaller portion came from liberals furious at the Republicans' outrageous actions.

As for the people of Dongda, their tastes are becoming more and more picky, and even up to now, the matter has only contributed 10,000 points of willpower to him.

"Oh, the audience at the University of Tokyo is so hard to please."

The dragon master smiled helplessly, exited the Fox News app, and prepared to watch something else for fun.

Soon, a short message from CNN, placed in the most inconspicuous corner of the news section, caught his attention.

The title is simple and clear, yet full of tension - "The "Bone Blade" killer appeared in Oklahoma, rejected the federal invitation, and vowed to fight to the end."

But the Lord Dragon already knew that what was reported in the news was not the truth!

"Tsk tsk, even left-wing media like CNN doesn't dare to report the truth. It seems that Mr. Jamal Washington has really done something big!"

77. A fanatic tears his good brother into pieces with his bare hands?

In stark contrast to the "Saint" James Lincoln, who was thriving with loud drums and firecrackers and the tacit approval and even secret support of the federal government, "Bone Blade" Jamal Washington and the fire of revival of "Black Wall Street" he tried to ignite were caught in a cold and desperate situation of internal and external troubles from the very beginning.

This young, idealistic and enthusiastic "Bone Blade" returned to the Greenwood district of Tulsa, the place where his bloodline originated. He immediately integrated the local stagnant black community with his strong personal charm and extraordinary strength that could tear steel.

With the help of the highly respected pastor, Jay Elijah, he once again raised the dusty flag with the Roaring Black Panther printed on it, and with an almost "naive" and resolute attitude, he issued his idealistic political cry to the federal government:

First, we demand that Congress immediately establish a special investigative committee to reopen a full investigation into the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre, hold accountable all historical perpetrators who are still at large, and make a national, public apology and financial compensation to all victims and their descendants.

Second, the legal department is required to conduct an indiscriminate review of all cases in recent years involving obvious unfair law enforcement against the black community, and to severely punish all racist police and judicial personnel involved.

Naturally, these demands were completely suppressed without even making a splash.

There were no news reports, and even the related tweets on social platforms were deleted completely; the main dragon still learned about Jamal Washington's request through Anduriel's channels.

Now, he is looking at the information forwarded to him by Atlas, all about what Jamal Washington has done during this period.

"Alas... too naive and too impatient. It seems you still don't understand politics." He complained silently in his heart.

"Settling historical scores? Or the kind that's officially acknowledged? This is tantamount to personally tearing off the fig leaf of their own country's reputation as a 'beacon of freedom, defender of human rights' in front of the entire world, and then slapping their own face, which is anointed with holy oil, hundreds of times. Forget the old foxes on Capitol Hill; even if Jesus himself came down to intercede for them, they wouldn't be able to accomplish this. This is no longer a simple political demand; it is fundamentally shaking the very foundation of the United States!"

"Not to mention... he even pulled out that Black Panther Party flag again. Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, his courage is commendable, but he really thinks he can't die quickly enough."

Zhulong is too aware of the vague shadow of "teacher (anti-harmony) thought" behind that banner. It is a terrifying existence for these two political parties that have relied on capitalist rules to operate for hundreds of years.

That thing is more terrifying than any supernatural monster or any alien, because it can fundamentally undermine the entire ruling system on which they depend for survival.

In the eyes of bigwigs in the Democratic and Republican parties, Jamal's current behavior is no longer a "civil rights movement". It is clearly a "color revolution (anti-harmony)" under the banner of "racial equality", but this time, the target of the "revolution" is themselves.

"Plus, Greenwood is dirt poor, with very little money to spend. Unlike the wealthy rednecks in Van Buren County, they can't afford to invest in public opinion and lobbying. From the outset, his struggle was destined to be a tragic one-man show with no investment, no attention, and not even a proper script. I bet fifty cents that the federal government will never negotiate with him. The only possibility he'll face is..."

"Buzz...buzz...buzz..."

The "Anduriel phones" of the Lord Dragon, Tifa, and Jingxue vibrated at the same time.

Tifa frowned as she looked at the collection screen.

"Anduriel's emergency call!?"

Anduriel, New York Underground Base.

The emergency meeting room, which was always filled with a sense of futuristic technology, was now shrouded in a heavy and stagnant atmosphere that was almost suffocating.

On the huge holographic screen, real-time images from Tulsa, Oklahoma, like a battlefield documentary, were quietly playing.

This was the permission Atlas had "tricked" out of the internet-famous defense minister, allowing some of Anduril's equipment to connect to the Pentagon system. Anduril's technicians secretly exploited some program loopholes and found a backdoor.

Even the main dragon was shocked.

He was not surprised that Atlas was able to trick people into gaining authority. After all, the Secretary of Defense was a mortal, and it was normal for him to be fooled by the "demagogy" of this old fox. But the fact that your Pentagon's system has so many loopholes, isn't it a bit too abstract?

Afterwards, I found that the company that outsourced the program was filled with Indians from top to bottom.

"Oh, I got it."

However, now is not the time for him to mock the abstract affairs of the United States.

At this moment, the Greenwood District had turned into a street fighting hell with flames shooting into the sky.

The streets were littered with overturned car wreckage and burning roadblocks. The sound of intense gunfire rang out like popcorn, and bullets splattered clouds of dust and debris against the walls and ground. The air was filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder and the faint scent of blood.

Twenty-four "Super Maruns" wearing dark gray "God's Choice-1" exoskeleton armor, like the most ruthless and efficient war machines, are quickly moving and advancing among the ruins in standard four-man combat teams.

"Alpha Squad! Three o'clock, second floor window! Suppressing fire!"

"Beta Team, read that! Throwing flashbangs!"

Their coordination was seamless, their tactical movements as standard as a textbook. With each precise burst of fire from their specially modified carbines, they unleashed their "supernatural bullets," soaked in a supernatural factor solution, towards the agile enemy.

However, their opponent, the agile figure holding the bone blade, was like a god of war who would never fall. Amidst the hail of bullets, he performed a breathtaking solo dance.

Sweat trickled down Jamal Washington's tanned face, mingling with the dust and gunpowder. His eyes were as calm as a still pool of water, yet beneath that calm lay a raging rage capable of incinerating everything. The bone blade in his hand gleamed with a chilling cold light, reflecting the chilling glow of death in the firelight.

He shuttled between the ruins like a ghost, and every time he flashed, a "Super Ma Run" would fall.

"Tsk-!"

A Blade Warrior leaped from the second floor of a half-collapsed building, his bone blade slicing a sharp arc through the air! A "Super Marun," who had just poked his head out to fire, didn't even see the man's movements before he felt a chill on his neck! His head, encased in a sturdy helmet, was chopped off in a single blow, and a column of blood gushed out from the severed neck!

The sturdy "God's Choice-1" exoskeleton armor made of monster fibers and high-strength alloys was as fragile as a layer of tinfoil in front of his bone blade that was powerful enough to tear through steel.

This is a bit like the scene in StarCraft where a fanatic tears 50 of his good brothers apart with his bare hands.

But two fists are no match for four hands.

There are simply too many "Super Maruns".

After suffering a certain amount of casualties, they quickly adjusted their tactics and stopped engaging in close combat with Jamal. Instead, they kept their distance and used a dense firepower network to suppress him behind a shelter made up of abandoned vehicles.

All kinds of grenades, stun grenades, incendiary bombs, and even expensive "anti-supernatural bombs" were thrown at his hiding place as if they were free!

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The violent explosion completely engulfed the small area, and raging flames and billowing smoke rose into the sky.

The situation on the battlefield seemed to be reversed in an instant.

"This is a fucking massacre!"

"They're killing an awakened person who's acting righteously!"

"He didn't kill any civilians, and he even spared the pilot of the hijacked helicopter! He didn't do anything wrong!"

In the Anduriel conference room, Louis slammed his fist down on the hard obsidian table, making a dull thud. Veins bulged on his newly stubbled head, and electric arcs danced restlessly at his fingertips.

"And that kid... Jamal. I don't agree with his Black Panther Party stuff, but at least... at least he's fighting for the legitimate rights of his people! He's not wrong! Those bastards of the federal government just sent the army to kill people because of a few slogans?! And they're slaughtering people without regard for civilian casualties! Do they have any law or order anymore?!"

Aaron's expression was also extremely ugly. His face, which always looked serious and pious, was now filled with disappointment and anger.

"This is the country I once swore allegiance to... This is the army I once took so much pride in..." He whispered to himself, his voice filled with endless sadness and self-mockery. "They are timid when facing real enemies, but when bullying their own people, each one is more ruthless than the other! They have completely... betrayed the Lord's teachings and become minions of Satan!"

"Oh, I really wonder what the founding fathers would think if they saw this scene."

Tifa and Jingxue sat quietly on the side. Although they didn't say anything, their tightly clenched fists and eyes burning with anger had already made their position clear.

"Atlas!" Louis turned his head sharply and looked at the man who had remained silent in the main seat. His voice was urgent. "We can't just stand there and watch! We have to do something! We have to help him!"

"I know." Atlas' voice was terribly low. His eyes, which were always as deep as an eagle's, were now fixed on the screen. Deep in his eyes, there was a surging anger that was almost turning into substance.

Of course he was angry.

"Saint" James Lincoln was a racist who openly drove his car into people. Instead of holding him accountable, the federal government made peace with him and other forces behind him, acquiescing in his establishment of a de facto "lawless place."

And Jamal, a young man who just wanted to seek justice for his people, was treated as a "terrorist" and ruthlessly wiped out by the most elite special forces!

This undisguised double standard, this arrogance and shamelessness of playing with law and justice, has completely and once again touched Atlas' bottom line.

But for some reason, Atlas turned his gaze to the main dragon, his deep eyes full of anticipation.

Then, a calm voice sounded slowly from the corner of the conference room.

"help."

Except for Atlas who was already staring at the main dragon, everyone turned their heads in astonishment and looked at the figure who had been leaning on the sofa with his eyes closed, like an outsider.

The Dragon Master slowly opened his eyes. His gaze, always as calm as the abyss, swept across everyone present, finally landing on the huge holographic screen in front of him, which was still playing the tragic battle scene.

He didn't even stand up, but just maintained that lazy posture and repeated it again in an unquestionable tone, as if stating an established fact.

"I must help."

78 (Part 1). Yearning is the feeling furthest from understanding.

"I must help."

The main dragon's (anti-harmony) sound was not loud, but it was like a stone thrown into stagnant water, instantly causing ripples in the stagnant air.

Everyone's eyes were cast in astonishment at the figure who had been leaning on the sofa with his eyes closed, like an outsider.

The Dragon Master slowly opened his eyes. His gaze, always as calm as the abyss, swept across everyone present, finally landing on the huge holographic screen in front of him, which was still playing the tragic battle scene.

He didn't even stand up, but just maintained that lazy posture and repeated it again in an unquestionable tone, as if stating an established fact.

"We must help him. And we must appear before them with an attitude that leaves no room for argument."

"Please give me your reasons," Atlas said with a meaningful smile, but his voice was calm. "Try to convince me."

"I know we might completely offend the federal government this time," the Dragon Lord said with a firm gaze and a voice full of enthusiasm and determination. "I was worried at first, but then I suddenly remembered a quote from a great man."

"The American imperialists are very arrogant. They will be unreasonable wherever they can be. If they do try to be reasonable, it's because they're forced into it."

"So the more we show fear and retreat, the more they will push forward. The federal government, or rather, the people who are in control of it now, their logic is no different from that of street bullies."

"If you take one step back, they'll take ten steps forward. If you reason with them, they'll act like hooligans. If you try to restrain them with laws and rules, they'll just flip the table and compete with you to see who has the harder fist."

"But if you dare to draw your sword and challenge them to a duel, to see whose fist is stronger, they will actually respect you and speak to you in a polite manner."

The main dragon's gaze calmly met Atlas's deep blue eyes, which were surging with the "power of deceit".

"So, the only way to get them to sit down and talk to you calmly is to first demonstrate our strength. Let them clearly realize that we are not soft persimmons that they can easily manipulate. Let them understand that any attempt to deal with us with conventional military and security forces is extremely foolish and will only make them pay a price a hundred times more painful than the last time at Pearl Harbor!"

"Only when they feel genuine pain and fear will they put aside their arrogance and sit down at the negotiating table as equals. Only then will we truly have a say in setting the rules."

"Besides," the Dragon Master paused, "who said that this time, we have to fight to the death with the Super Maruns?"

"I don't like fighting, I prefer to end it."

"We can present ourselves as 'stopping violence and protecting civilians,' separating the two sides and restoring calm to the war zone. When our power descends as an arbitrator, the nature of the entire incident will change. We will no longer be vassals or allies of either side, but an independent third party that stands above them and has the final say."

"In the future extraordinary world, we will have the greatest say, even... surpassing the federal authorities!"

Every word the dragon said was like a heavy hammer, hitting Atlas' heart.

Hasn't he thought about these principles and deductions before?

But he is Atlas Graham after all, the heir to the Graham family, and a member of the country's huge vested interest system.

Behind him are too many family businesses, business partners, and a complex network of political allies who secretly support him. These are both the source of his power and his heaviest shackles.

He longed for change, but was afraid of a complete and subversive revolution. He wanted to smash the old world, but was afraid that the flying fragments would hit his priceless antique vases.

Given Atlas's personality, he prefers to hide behind and weave a web silently like a giant spider, rather than jumping to the front so quickly.

But the main dragon had not finished speaking.

"I trust your abilities, Mr. Atlas." The dragon master's voice rang out again, this time with a subtle, all-seeing smile. "I believe you have a way to help us flex our muscles while also perfectly avoiding the worst possible scenarios. After all... you're great at making others believe what you want them to believe, aren't you?"

Atlas' pupils suddenly contracted!

His heart felt like it was being gripped by an invisible hand, and it skipped a beat!