City of Sin Under the Night Sky

Luo Xia gripped the hexagonal crystal, which looked like a work of art, and immediately received the corresponding prompt.

[Obtained Energy Activation Device 1: AllSpark energy cap increased by 1000, energy recovery rate increased by 1 point/second.]

[AllSpark Energy (Stage 1): 4/1000, energy recovery rate: 1/second.]

Watching the AllSpark energy recover at a faster rate, Luo Xia couldn't wait to check the effects of the Sensor Glove.

[Sensor Glove: Consumes 100 points of AllSpark energy, crafted from magnetic metal. Provides high-temperature insulation and bulletproof capabilities; the glove is equipped with a retractable dagger and increases arm strength to a certain extent.]

This Sensor Glove consumed less energy than the Pulse Pistol and seemed like an auxiliary tool, yet Luo Xia couldn't figure out what the glove's function had to do with the word "sensor."

Could it be that this system is also a clickbait artist? Luo Xia gave a wry smile.

Although he had enough AllSpark energy and magnetic metal wasn't hard to find—the most basic form being iron—the Sensor Glove didn't require much energy but demanded a large quantity of materials. Luo Xia dug out every iron object he could find in the house, but it still wasn't enough to craft a single Sensor Glove.

Helpless, Luo Xia had to suppress his excitement and start cleaning for real. After all, this place would be his home for a long time to come. While Luo Xia wasn't a neat freak, the habits instilled in him during his time in the military dictated that everything had to be kept in perfect order.

After several hours of back-breaking work amidst clouds of dust, Luo Xia finally got the place cleaned up. It was just empty, though; aside from a sofa and a wooden bed frame, there was nothing else.

This place didn't even have a wardrobe.

Luo Xia suddenly thought of a rather terrifying question: "Do I have to do my own laundry, sweeping, cooking, and dishwashing?"

Luo Xia liked cleanliness, but he didn't want to rely on himself to solve these problems forever.

Well, these were all problems, but Luo Xia felt he would always find a way to solve them.

Seeing that it was almost time for dinner, Luo Xia took a shower, changed his clothes, and headed upstairs. When he knocked on Mrs. Cardenas's door, he found that Foggy had already arrived.

"Sorry, I'm a bit late," Luo Xia said to everyone.

"It's fine, dinner isn't ready yet. I still have one more friend who hasn't arrived," Foggy replied to Luo Xia.

Mrs. Cardenas's voice drifted from the kitchen: "Oh, excuse me, does anyone have a moment to help me buy some baking soda? We've run out."

Foggy was about to get up, but Luo Xia said to him, "I'll go. I was just thinking about getting familiar with Hell's Kitchen."

Foggy said with some concern, "But the security in this area isn't very good at night. Maybe I should go instead."

This was a genuinely good person; that was the definition Luo Xia had for Foggy. However, Luo Xia still insisted, "You can't be my babysitter forever, can you? Besides, I'm probably better at protecting myself than you are."

Once Foggy heard this, he understood what Luo Xia meant and could only offer a reminder: "Then you'd better be careful."

Luo Xia acknowledged him and headed out. Buying baking soda was secondary; his main goal was to see if he could find enough iron scraps to craft the Sensor Glove.

However, Luo Xia hadn't expected the chaos of Hell's Kitchen to far exceed his imagination.

It was only seven o'clock in the evening, just as the sun had set. Before Luo Xia had even walked a block, he saw a drug addict collapsed on the side of the road, two streetwalkers fighting until they were bloodied over a client, and a gang brawl involving machetes and baseball bats.

Luo Xia didn't want to cause trouble, so he tried his best to avoid them. After winding through several turns, he arrived in an alleyway, where he encountered a thug flicking a butterfly knife.

"Hey, yellow-skinned monkey, hand over all the money you've got," the thug said to Luo Xia.

"I'm just curious, can't you guys come up with a different slur for Asians? Have you been this uncultured and unoriginal for hundreds of years?" Luo Xia said, feeling speechless.

"Huh? What are you babbling about, yellow-skinned monkey?" The thug began waving his knife and closing in on Luo Xia.

"I'm saying you could kneel down and shout, 'Great King, spare my life,'" Luo Xia said quite seriously.

The thug didn't understand what "Great King, spare my life" meant, but he understood "kneel down." His face twisted into a snarl as he thrust the sharp blade toward Luo Xia's waist, aiming directly for the kidneys. If it landed, it would result in lifelong disability, if not death.

But before the blade could even finish its arc, a black shadow leaped down from above and stomped the thug directly into the ground. It was a tall man dressed entirely in black, wearing a half-mask.

He proceeded to hammer the thug's face left and right, landing seven or eight blows until the man was knocked unconscious. It was truly brutal; even Luo Xia felt a twinge of pain watching it. If it were him, he wouldn't have used such heavy force—he would have just used a bullet to end it quickly.

After confirming the thug was incapacitated, the masked man in black said to Luo Xia, "It's best not to go out at night. Not only is the security here poor, but racial discrimination is also particularly severe."

His voice was hoarse and low, seemingly disguised to prevent others from recognizing him.

"It's fine, I have this." Luo Xia pulled a Colt 1911 from behind his back, which he had casually taken from Tony's lab. To design his Iron Armor, Tony had prepared several sets of standard-issue U.S. military weapons in the lab for research.

Luo Xia knew his Pulse Pistol was too conspicuous, so he had swapped it for the Colt.

Although he couldn't see the masked man's expression, Luo Xia felt a hint of hostility directed at him—or rather, hostility toward the gun in his hand.

"No one has the right to take another person's life, even in self-defense," the masked man said to Luo Xia.

"Oh, a supporter of abolishing the death penalty?" Luo Xia was a bit speechless.

In his past life, as a native-born Chinese and a special forces soldier who had seen his fair share of killing, he found it hard to understand this mindset. Well, if he's not a great sage, he must be a bored 'white left' activist.

Still, seeing that this person used action to help others, he was probably a candidate for sainthood. He was far better than those who only knew how to scream online that murderers shouldn't die.

Seeing that Luo Xia remained unmoved, the masked man seemed to want to say something else, but Luo Xia interrupted, "I think we can agree to disagree, but before that, I think we should solve another problem."

As soon as Luo Xia finished speaking, the roar of engines approached from the distance, and a dozen thugs with malicious expressions emerged from both ends of the alley. They glanced at the bloodied man on the ground, said nothing, and charged forward with machetes and baseball bats.

Clearly, they were all part of the same gang.