Chapter 480

In Marvel, the System Works for Me

Las Vegas, the entertainment capital of the world, had two sides, like a coin:

One was heaven, a material paradise.

The other was hell, a hell of the human heart.

Heaven lay above.

Neon lights and revelry bloomed in a display of endless luxury.

Hell lay below.

There, boundless greed and the frenzy that followed sudden ruin or wealth swirled like a vortex, swallowing human desire.

A dim alley.

A man in a hooded cloak jogged down it, glancing back now and then.

Two men in black suits pursued him.

The lights grew brighter, the noise clearer.

The exit was close. Beyond it lay a bustling avenue.

The hooded man suddenly took a long stride into the crowd and stopped. He turned, pulled down his hood, and revealed a sharply defined face.

His long black hair curled slightly.

His skin was bronze.

He had a high nose and full lips.

He watched the two suited men with amusement, a taunting glint in his eyes and a smile tugging at his mouth, as if to say:

"Come after me in front of all these people!"

The two men froze. They hadn't expected him to pull a stunt like that.

Then they sneered and drew their weapons. One slipped on a pair of brass knuckles—call him Brass Knuckles—while the other pulled out a knife. Knife Guy?

"Ah! He's got a weapon!"

A sharp-eyed young woman spotted it and screamed, though whether from fear or excitement was hard to tell.

The crowd promptly cleared a wide circle. Some called the police, others recorded video, and an orderly gathering of spectators took shape.

"Stop!" the hooded man shouted, taking a step back.

The two men acted as though they hadn't heard. Far from stopping, they sped up.