Thanks for the Gift from the Black Guys!

"I see, then I can rest assured."

Suddenly, Alvin, who had a gentle and frail demeanor just moments ago, became somewhat cold.

Staring at the youth who seemed to have completely changed, from his aura to his eyes, Black Guy unconsciously broke out in a cold sweat, a vague sense of foreboding creeping into his heart.

But the Smith & Wesson MP9 handgun in his hand gave Black Guy courage once more.

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What's there to be afraid of?

He had a gun, after all. Could this kid really kill him instantly?

Black Guy's expression turned much more ferocious. He licked his thick lips, "Kid, stop f**king scaring me. If you don't want to die, then just do as I say!"

"Kneel down, and then."

Just as Black Guy's mind was filled with yellow refuse...

Alvin suddenly struck back with an elbow, his fully powered elbow directly hitting Black Guy's abdomen.

Caught completely off guard by the sudden heavy blow, Black Guy's stomach churned with acid. Then, Alvin twisted his waist and hips, pushing off the ground with force as his knee shot upward. Simultaneously, he grabbed Black Guy's hair with both hands and yanked downward.

BANG!

His fragile nose slammed into the hard knee.

Tears, snot, and blood sprayed out together. The intense pain caused Black Guy to scream, cursing wildly, "F**k, f**k, I'm gonna kill you, you brat!"

However, before he could finish speaking, a dark gun barrel was shoved directly into his mouth.

It was a salvaged old-model laser gun. While its aim might be off...

But he was shoving it into someone's mouth. Even if the aiming reticle was off, it couldn't possibly miss, right?

"Mmph! Mmph!"

Black Guy's eyes widened, his pupils filled with terror. "Don't... kill me."

He never imagined that a seemingly frail youth could unleash such agile movements.

Alvin shoved the barrel of the old-model laser gun directly into Black Guy's throat, a smile spreading across his face. "I still like your arrogant look from just now. Please resume it."

No one who grew up in the lower levels was a pushover.

Fighting and brawling were child's play. Even the lowest-level scavengers in the lower levels had a few lives on their hands. Alvin's previous self was no exception.

No matter how free America was, it couldn't compare to the chaos of the lower levels; the difference was at least a hundred thousand miles.

"Let... let me go."

Black Guy pleaded in terror, "I was wrong, I swear to God, I'll never do it again!"

Alvin grinned, revealing all his teeth, and said in a very gentle voice, "It's okay, I don't hold grudges. Just be more careful in your next life."

BANG!

He pulled the trigger.

A beam of light blue laser pierced directly through Black Guy's head.

A sinful life came to an end.

Of course, he preferred to call it... purification.

Pulling out the old-model laser gun, Alvin said indifferently, "Sorry, I believe in Emperor Lord. What is this God thing?"

Then, without any guilt or reaction, he squatted down and began searching Black Guy's body.

A few bills, exuding the scent of money, made Alvin intoxicated.

Thank you, freedom!

Thank you, America!

Thank you, Black Guy!

From the moment Alvin stepped out of the alley, less than two hundred meters in total, he had encountered three waves of robbery.

It seemed like every time he turned a corner, he ran into a robbery.

Even the farts they let out seemed like they were copied and pasted, seamlessly transitioning from robbing for money to robbing for sex.

Could it be that his face just looked too easy to rob?

As for the result, he was naturally stripped bare by Alvin, with everything that could be looted being taken.

What Black Guys?

These were clearly good brothers who gave their all!

At least, in the eyes of the lower-level dweller Alvin, these Black Guys were as kind as angels compared to the scum in the nest.

On just one street, Alvin successfully obtained several hundred US dollars in massive wealth, a Smith & Wesson MP9 handgun made in America, clean but ill-fitting clothes, and a fine tactical dagger from America's specialty, the Black Guys.

Emperor Lord bless!

With his harvest full, Alvin silently performed an Eagle Salute in his heart.

Thank you for America's gift. He finally didn't have to wear those rags that either showed his top or his bottom.

As for those who intended to rob him, Alvin naturally sent each of those scumbags to God with a bullet to repent.

Bang!

A gunshot echoed, smoke filling the air.

Looking at the person lying in a pool of blood, Alvin felt no burden.

Scumbags should be treated like scumbags.

For example, with a bullet.

He wasn't Batman, nor was he a Superhero overflowing with a sense of justice. He didn't have time to discuss human rights and laws with criminals.

Blowing away the smoke from his gun, Alvin left calmly.

As the streetlights flickered on, the entire street was bathed in neon light, bustling with people.

Alvin, carrying a "fortune" of several hundred dollars, scanned the shops lining both sides of the street, finally settling on a fast-food restaurant.

Then, without hesitation, he strode straight into the fast-food joint. Seeing the various burgers depicted on the signboard, his saliva went wild in his mouth. His appetite briefly took over.

Forget any goals, what he craved most now was a good meal!

Having finally escaped the sea of suffering that was Warhammer, even if he had to add the word "temporarily," it didn't stop him from revisiting the delicacies of his memory!

Under the slightly surprised gaze of the cashier, Alvin held up three fingers: "Three 'A' set meals, please. Thank you."

Fortunately, the Navigator System came with a built-in language translation system, sparing him communication and reading barriers.

"Sir, are you sure you want three 'A' set meals?"

The cashier looked at Alvin, who was a bit thin, standing at the counter. "Our 'A' set meal includes a double-patty beef burger, a portion of french fries, a portion of chicken nuggets, and a drink. A normal adult can only eat one set meal. Three is too much; you probably won't be able to finish it."

"Oh? Is that so?"

Alvin hesitated.

Just as the cashier thought he was going to give up, Alvin unexpectedly shook his head and said, "Three might not be enough. Please give me five 'A' set meals."

The cashier twitched the corner of his mouth. Did he just say all that for nothing?

But the customer is God, after all. If he wanted to order that much, what could the cashier do? So, he nodded, took the money, and said, "I hope you won't waste it."

The moment he took a bite, a complex flavor filled his mouth.

Soft bread sandwiched with sweet jam, paired with a few slices of sour pickles and tomatoes, and a large, juicy meat patty. Alvin was so moved he almost shed a tear.

This was what humans should eat!

What nutritious porridge? Even dogs wouldn't eat it!

Nutritious porridge was good, and its goodness lay in... its nutrition.

Alright, to be honest, if he had a choice, Alvin would rather eat British food, or even Indian... Oh, scratch that, that would really kill people.

But he wanted to eat something that humans ate.

He devoured five beef burgers, two servings of fries, four Cokes, and five portions of chicken nuggets in one go. Alvin patted his bulging stomach and wiped his mouth with satisfaction.

At that moment, a news report suddenly played on the television in the fast-food restaurant.

The Seven's Lamplighter would officially retire tomorrow, and a retirement ceremony would be held.

"Excellent, it's in the early stages of the plot."

Looking at The Seven on the video, Alvin could finally confirm the current plot point.

Lamplighter's retirement meant the story had just begun.

Locomotive, under the influence of drugs and losing control, accidentally crushed Hughie's girlfriend. This incident served as the fuse, triggering a series of subsequent events.

Of course, Alvin didn't care about Hughie, nor would he criticize Locomotive. He didn't have that much free time.

What truly deserved his attention was... Locomotive's girlfriend, Claw Woman!

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