Talking Criminal Law in the East Side? Have the Gunshots Rattled Your Brain?

The RPG's fiery white tail flames reflected a dead line on the aviator sunglasses.

If you try to withstand this Rocket, the brains in your arms will inevitably be shattered into a yolk-and-egg-drop soup.

Reconciliation?

It's actually very simple, isn't there a meat shield nearby?

Sing Sing reached behind him, grabbed the 200-pound guy, and threw him away.

"Wait! What are you doing?! Damn it! Yamete!"

While cursing and swearing, Deadpool struck a pose in mid-air as he flew straight towards the Rocket.

"Stephen Chow! I curse your grandpa's great-uncle! Deducting my pay is one thing, but using me as a scapegoat! Fuck you!"

The shockwave whipped up billowing flames that swept around, and with the force of the explosion, Sing Sing, clutching the life support tank, drifted down.

Stepping on his right foot with his left, he landed steadily and then opened his canvas shoulder bag.

Thankfully, the brain was still steadily bubbling.

"Stay calm, Comrade Jacob. As long as you don't give up, there's always a way to overcome difficulties."

Sing Sing breathed a sigh of relief and patted his bag.

"Look, it's completely undamaged, isn't it? Sigh... we only lost a motorcycle."

Deadpool crawled out from the collapsed debris nearby, a shrapnel bullet still lodged in his chest.

"Completely unharmed? Come on, touch my conscience, it was physically pierced through!"

He gripped the shrapnel and pulled it out forcefully, drawing a trail of blood.

The sirens and gunshots all around them left the two no time to pay attention to anything else.

On the left side of the street, a dozen gangsters huddled behind a car and opened fire across the street.

Inside the sandbag bunker on the right, two machine guns were spitting fire.

Bullets formed a fiery net, riddling the roadside fire hydrants with holes and sending water jets flying everywhere.

Next to the intersection, an electronics store was smashed to pieces.

Several middle-aged women, pushing supermarket shopping carts, were oblivious to the stray bullets flying overhead, frantically carrying TVs and air fryers out of the mall.

Two middle-aged women even got into a fight over a double-door the Fridge, a truly absurd scene.

Wow~

Deadpool spread his arms and took a deep breath of the air, which was filled with the smell of gunpowder and marijuana.

"Can you smell it, Director? This is the fragrance of freedom! A unique wildflower blooming in the soil of capitalism!"

"Hey! Folks! Stop fighting!"

"Your friendly neighbor, Deadpool, the representative of Detroit's intangible cultural heritage, is back!"

After saying that, Wade yelled and rushed behind the gang's cover on the left.

He snatched a half-eaten hot dog from a Black man's hand, stuffed it into his mouth, and then grabbed the man to shield him.

Three stray bullets struck his bulletproof vest, knocking the gangster unconscious with his eyes rolling back in his head.

Deadpool threw the man aside, yelling with a mouthful of wasabi, "Ugh, this hot dog bun isn't fluffy enough!"

Sing Sing's forehead veins were throbbing; taking this guy out was really a brain drain.

Chaos erupted on the street as two pickup trucks, welded with spikes and steel plates, sped out of the alley and stopped in the middle of the road, blocking the entire street.

The car door was kicked open, and more than twenty thugs with red headscarves and skull tattoos jumped out.

The leader, a bald man with a face full of scars, carried a shotgun and pulled out a megaphone, shouting:

"Cease fire! From this moment forward, Third Avenue in the East District is under the complete control of the Blood Crow Gang!"

"Everyone! Whether you're fighting or carrying the TV, hand over all your cash, gold watches, and valuables as ransom. Anyone who resists will be killed on sight!"

The two groups that were just exchanging fire stopped, and the old lady who was robbing the appliances also grumbled and pushed her cart back into the shadows.

The leader of the Blood Crow Gang glanced around the room, his gaze settling on Sing Sing under the streetlight.

The cloth bag he was carrying to his chest was bulging, clearly filled with valuable and sought-after goods.

The leader stepped forward and pressed the barrel of his gun against the canvas bag.

"Hey, where did this pretty boy come from? Dressed all high and mighty."

"What treasure are you carrying in your bag, protecting it so tightly? High-purity blue ice?"

"Or are they bearer bonds from Switzerland bank? You'd better know your place and kneel down with your hands behind your head, or I'll spare your life."

Sing Sing stared at the gun barrel.

Honestly, these street thugs have no manners at all!

Are local gangs really this rude?

"Let me introduce myself. I am Stephen Zhou, Director of the Overseas Special Talent Recruitment Office of the 749 Bureau of China. I am Deputy Division-Level cadre."

The leader was taken aback. "Huh? What kind of scheme?"

"According to Article 263 of my country's Criminal Law, those who rob public officials of important state scientific research materials carried on their person at gunpoint, if the circumstances are egregious, can be executed directly."

As he spoke, he pulled a business card from his pocket.

"How about you consider abandoning your evil ways and joining the light? The bureau can give you special permission to work on a sewing machine."

"Food and lodging provided, guaranteed training and learning, good behavior will reduce your sentence by three years. Would you like to consider it?"

The henchmen around him burst into laughter.

"Boss, has this kid been stunned by the gunshot?"

"A public official? Talking about law in the East District? That's the funniest joke I've heard all year!"

The leader, provoked in public, slapped the business card away.

To hell with your laws, go to hell!

Bang!

Sing Sing sighed, "I didn't warn you..."

In a fraction of a second, Sing Sing inserted his right index finger into the barrel of a shotgun.

The Inner Qi transformed into an invisible airlock, completely sealing off the air-sealing space of the entire gun barrel.

The gunpowder exploded violently inside the gun barrel on the spot!

"Ouch! My face! My eyes!"

The leader loosened his grip on the gun, covered his face, and collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain.

Sing Sing stood still, tossed the gun aside, and pretended to blow a breath on his fingertips.

The underlings, who were just laughing, widened their eyes in disbelief.

"Damn it, did I take too much drugs today?"

Is this something a normal person could do?

"I've already told you, violence won't solve anything, why won't you listen?"

The thugs around him snapped out of their daze and hurriedly pulled back their gun bolts, ready to fire at Sing Sing.

"Gathering a crowd to resist arrest is an even more serious offense!"

A crowbar flew into his palm.

Sing Sing, with one hand protecting the brain he had exposed on his chest, weaved through the crowd with a crowbar in hand.

The thugs, who usually acted arrogantly and domineeringly, were powerless to resist.

"A devil! This man is a devil!"

"My kneecap is shattered, don't come any closer!"

Deadpool, watching the show, clapped along.

"Good! That was a brilliant move! The guy in the red shorts on the left isn't down yet, Director, give him a good whack to make him lose his manhood!"

Deadpool, with his sharp eyes, spotted several stacks of US dollars scattered on the ground, immediately slipped over, picked up the bills, and stuffed them into his crotch.

After hiding the money, he turned around and made a gesture towards the camera.

"Kids watching TV, don't try this! This is a professionally trained zero-dollar purchase!"

Less than a minute.

More than twenty armed men lay sprawled on the ground, none of them able to stand up.

Sing Sing threw the crowbar on the ground, grabbed a lightly injured thug by the collar with one hand, and lifted him into the air.

"I'd like to ask you about someone. Is there a doctor around here named Christopher Muse?"

"I don't know... I really don't know any muse..."

"Don't you recognize them? I've heard the alligators in Detroit's sewers are calcium deficient. If you don't know them..."

"I said, I remember now, I said!"

The thug was so frightened that he trembled and shouted loudly.

"Up ahead! There's a slaughterhouse three blocks east! He opened a clinic in the basement of the slaughterhouse!"

Sing Sing's eyes lit up, and just as he was about to put the person down, the thug added, panting.

"But you're too late! Our big boss and the slave-catching team outside were about to capture him and sell him to a big corporation!"

Slave-catching team?

Big conglomerate?

Sing Sing had a bad feeling.

If Christopher is captured by the black market first, this brain-dead creature will have nowhere to find a body.

"Wade! Get to work!"

Sing Sing shook off the thugs and prepared to continue his journey.

Three blocks away, plasma flames shot up from the direction of the slaughterhouse.

A muffled explosion swept along the street, shattering windows and turning most of the night sky a ghastly white.