Dark Savages Come To the United States

Two people, one big and one small, walked on the streets of Hell's Kitchen. It was still daytime and nothing too difficult to see happened, so Bulkelso was quite happy.

"Jill, has this place always been like this?"

Bulkelso looked at the lively scene in front of him, a little puzzled.

Police cars could be seen slowly passing by on the street, but the gangsters on both sides of the street didn't seem to see them.

As for the elderly people, they greeted the police officers in the car. If he hadn't seen the dollar bill handed into the car, Bulkeso would have believed that the relationship between them was harmonious.

"Yeah, all the time."

Jill seemed a little heavy on the subject.

Being able to grow up safely in this place is simply a matter of torture level difficulty.

"If this was in a shelter, all the bastards on the street would have their legs broken and hung on stakes!"

Bulkelso's voice sounded, attracting the attention of most people on the street.

Hearing the savage's undisguised disapproval, the bastards seemed about to do something to preserve their pathetic pride.

"Old man, what kind of online game are you still playing! I told you that thing is not suitable for us old guys!"

At this time, an old voice sounded, interrupting the surrounding crowd.

The shambling figure of the old man in the barber shop he met a few days ago appeared not far away and waved to Bulkeso, his eyes were a little eager.

Bulkelso understood that the old man wanted to avoid trouble for him, out of good intentions.

So I just expressed my disdain for those gangsters in my heart, and then led Jill towards the old guy. Anyway, no amount of dust would at most make Bulkelso feel disgusted, and it was impossible to hurt him at all.

"I said man, how have you been?"

Burkasso reached out and patted the old guy on the shoulder, looked into his eyes and spoke slowly.

"It's okay. I said last time that I would give you a free haircut. Since I saw you today, come now."

Speaking of which, the old man was not thin and thin, but no matter who stood in front of the two-meter-high Bulkelso, he didn't look so strong.

Bulkelso's body was the product of thousands of years of training on the battlefield. His strong muscles and moderate fat made his body look extraordinarily burly.

But it doesn't have that sharp and amazing sense of line.

No way, in order to survive better on the battlefield, every soldier will store some fat in his body.

You must know that the protection of fat on the body is far above that of muscle.

Of course, professionals like monks and demon hunters pursue ultimate dodge and flexibility.

Their pursuit of physical fitness is completely different from that of barbarians.

But even the weakest spellcaster profession among professionals, whether it is a witch doctor or a mage, their bodies are far beyond ordinary people.

Except for the necromancer Bu Kesuo who dealt with corpses all day long, I haven't seen much. Although those guys also fight for hope and justice, their methods are too terrifying.

Every now and then, large pieces of corpses explode, and ghosts fly around, which is really unsightly.

"Who is this little guy? Your grandson?"

The old black man was a little curious as he watched Bull Casso take Jill with him.

In his cognition, most of those superhumans are lonely, and it is rare to hear news that these guys have family members.

Like that pervert in tights who's been active in Hell's Kitchen.

Heard it's called Daredevil, but who cares?

The existence of that guy made the gangs feel uneasy at all, causing all kinds of explosions at every turn.

"Oh, of course you may think so."

Bulkeso patted Jill on the head and said with a smile:

"My hair doesn't need to be taken care of, but this little guy needs a refreshing hairstyle to cheer him up."

While talking, Burkasso took the child into the barbershop he saw a few days ago. The space inside was not very big, only two chairs for haircutting.

And it looks like it's aged.

"Dude, my name is Bulkelso, what's your name?"

Bulkelso looked at Luke Cage who was sitting in the small space behind the counter, and said to the old man beside him.

"Oh, I forgot I didn't introduce myself, my name is Zack, Zack Strand."

Speaking of which, old Zach pointed to Luke Cage, who was looking at Bulkelso, and was about to make an introduction.

"I remember him, his name is Luke."

Bul-Kelso pins Jill to the barber chair.

"Then it's up to you, old Zack, give this kid the most spiritual hairstyle!"

Saying that, Bulkasso laughed out loud.

Luke Cage on the side seemed to want to say something, but chose to shut up.

"Who doesn't know that my old Zack's barber shop is the best on the block, just leave it to me."

As he said that, old Zach walked over with a fader.

...

"Uncle, do you really think this hairstyle is very spiritual?"

Jill looked at Bulkelso with short fluffy blond hair, as if trying to see a trace of guilt in Bulkelso's eyes, but obviously he failed.

After all, for Burkasso, that long hair is because he is too lazy to take care of his hair. For him, as long as it does not affect the battle, then any hairstyle is a spiritual hairstyle.

Counting on the aesthetics of a barbarian, it can only be said that the child is still too young.

True, old Zack was, as he said, the best barber shop on the block, even a few blocks around.

But neither Bulkelso nor Jill noticed that only black people would come to old Zack for a haircut, so none of the hairstyles he designed were suitable for Jill, a child with blond hair.

"Okay, Luke, if you have anything to say, don't be afraid to follow us."

Bulkelso turned to look at Luke Cage in a cheap blouse.

He somewhat liked this natural fighter, so he didn't mind spending a little time listening to what he had to do.

"I think it's better for you not to come to Hell's Kitchen too often. Your image and personality are too conspicuous."

Luke Cage had an embarrassed expression on his face when he said this.

He is a different person, born with great strength and invulnerable skin. If it weren't for his extraordinary sense of justice, he might have been Jin Bin's guest.

After all, in his opinion, Bullseye, known as the number one killer, has nothing to do with him.

A killer who uses projectiles and firearms can't penetrate his defenses.

In fact, he was still overconfident.

Although he just wanted to teach Hitt a lesson that night and didn't show his real skills, but how good can a black man who has no chance to receive combat training rely on the melee experience from the street?

"Is this place dangerous?"

Bulkelso was a little curious. He had not lived in New York for a long time. At most, he felt that this place was extraordinarily chaotic. It would be difficult for him to understand the dangers of this place in detail.

"Yeah, gang mix, and that leotard freak with two D's stacked on his chest."

two D?

Brother Xia?