Obama looked skinny and gaunt, but he did have African ancestry, so he was not entirely helpless. At first, he had tried to maintain his statesmanlike composure, but the Russian Emperor's series of throws had thoroughly enraged him.
Black people generally had stronger leg muscles. Pinned to the ground in a chokehold-like restraint by the Emperor, he could not put any strength into his hands and could only kick with one foot. By now, he had kicked so hard that one of his shoes had flown off.
The leaders of the remaining countries were not as hot-headed as they were. Seeing Baldy, the old men and women all breathed a collective sigh of relief. Regardless of whether Mr. Jasper Sitwell was capable in that regard, he was a world-famous superhero, Captain America's good friend, justice among the just, light among lights. He would save them, right?
However, no one rashly stepped forward. They had suddenly been dragged into such a strange place, and based on their life experience, keeping a low profile was definitely the right choice. They would wait for someone else to take the lead while they hid behind and assessed the situation. That way, whether they advanced or retreated, they could act accordingly.
The only person who walked over to Baldy was Doctor Doom. The two had some acquaintance with each other.
Doctor Doom was Wanda's godfather. Wanda and Little Franklin were good friends, Little Franklin's father was the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and Baldy was this Director's important confidant. The relationship was neither particularly distant nor especially close.
"Who is controlling all of this from behind the scenes?" Doctor Doom did not ask where they were. The yellow sand covering the ground, the towering statues in the center of the plaza, and several distinctive buildings all indicated