In Queens, which is across several rivers from Broadway.
One section is enough to run two small trucks side by side in the middle of the main pipe.
Black Noir was wearing a battle uniform, leaning quietly on a pile of scrap bricks, his hands in his pockets without moving.
Less than three meters away from him, four turtle men were standing in a row.
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles's growth rate is astonishing. At this time, they are only a little bit shorter than John.
As for why he grows so fast, it should be because he has reached puberty.
However, Master Splinter guessed that it might be because the blood in the sewers has been too strong recently, which led to this result.
At this time, Michelangelo, who had an orange strip of cloth tied on his forehead, was holding half of a thick iron pipe dragged back from the garbage dump in the scrapyard.
In order to show his strength, this little guy puffed up his cheeks, let out an exaggerated scream, raised the iron pipe thicker than his arm high above his head, and awkwardly swung a large windmill in mid-air that made a violent sound.
Huh, huh.
The posture was extremely high, and the sound of breaking through the air was not only loud, but even had a strong force that wanted to smash the brick floor.
Black Noir's figure did not take even one step back.
He conveniently took out an ordinary wooden chopstick that he usually used for breakfast at Long Island from the tactical pocket on the side of his training uniform. His calm eyes instantly captured the core flaw of Michelangelo's bottom plate floating after exerting too much force.
At the moment when the iron pipe was pulled backwards by inertia, Black Noir slid forward half a foot and flicked his wrist as steadily as a rock.
The wooden chopstick drew a very small black line in the air, and it happened to be right on the most vulnerable wrist joint nerve bundle of Michelangelo's right front paw, which was the numb tendon.
Ta.
The point of force generation was instantly blocked, and Michelangelo's arms felt numb.
The rusty iron pipe weighing more than ten kilograms flew out of the hand, danced around twice in mid-air, and then fell into the deep sewage ditch next to it with a splash of foamy water.
Michelangelo looked down at his empty green three-fingered palm, then stretched his neck forward, and looked at the iron pipe in the ditch where strings of blisters were coming out. The whole turtle stood there blankly, with a blank look on its face.
The three brothers next to them, who were tied with red, blue, and purple cloth strips respectively, were stunned for a second, and then burst into a series of uncontrollable laughter.
The eldest Leonardo laughed so hard that he patted his legs and squatted on the floor tiles;
Donatello, who is usually the most honest, laughed so hard that the thick green turtle shell on his back hit the brick wall, making a muffled thud.
That laughter echoed in the empty underground pipe network, scaring a few fat rats that were eating algae in the dark gaps of the pipes to squeak and run around.
Master Splinter Splinter, who was sitting on an old solid wood box at the back, was holding on to his short wooden crutch for walking on flat roads, stroking the long white beard around his mouth smoothly.
His small eyes were filled with admiration for this human fighting teacher.
This big man doesn't like to talk, and he always sees the truth behind his hands.
This technique of using force to attack the enemy's vital points is not a fake trick for the sake of appearance. It is a good skill that can save lives with one blow when you encounter an enemy of life and death in the streets and alleys.
Raphael, who was tied with a red cloth strip, stopped laughing, pushed up the cloth strip on his forehead, walked up to Black Noir with his legs that were not too long, raised his head and asked carelessly:
"Hey, silent and cold coach, where is that grumpy old man who lost his temper in the sewer two days ago and smelled like Gunpowder? He promised himself that day, saying that he would definitely bring us two extra-large grilled pizzas covered with double cheese and black pepper beef during this meeting."
Black Noir tilted his head slightly, put his hand back into the pocket of his combat uniform, and took out half a short charcoal pen and a palm-sized memo.
I originally wanted to write, but when I thought that these Little Turtles should be Zhangyu, I stood there with my head down and quickly sketched.
The brush strokes were clean and neat, and within ten seconds, the painted page was folded off and handed directly to Raphael's green nose.
This is a very vivid comic strip.
The background of the picture is the beautiful villa with a spire behind Long Island Estate, and a wide Backyard Lawn.
Under the porch, a pile of neatly cut solid wood firewood was almost level with the window frame.
At the very center of the painting is the grumpy old man with big bare arms and a frustrated and angry face. He is holding a large solid wood sinking axe in both hands and is hitting a thick log with a blue vein on his forehead.
The funniest details are later.
A golden giant dog with a particularly round and huge head, just like a lion, with a mouth full of sharp teeth, biting the old man's tattered sweatshirt to death.
The four dog legs dug hard in the opposite direction, pulling the entire sweater pocket into a tight long bow.
Michelangelo didn't even bother to fish out the iron pipes in the ditch. He squeezed behind Raphael's shoulders and read this page. He happily sat on the floor tiles and kicked his legs:
"It turns out that this old gangster was used as a laborer by Golden Labrador in the Manor! He worked so hard to chop wood, he must have eaten all my cheese pizza in one go!"
Black Noir had a hint of easygoingness in his eyes, and he took the small book back casually.
He picked four short wooden training blades neatly cut from old round bars from the wooden box next to them. These were weapons specially customized for the length of these little guys. Their weight and length were like a short dagger.
Black Noir stuffed a handful into the palms of each of the four brothers sitting on the ground. He stepped back half a step, put his hands on his waist, and made a gesture to the open space, indicating that they should come together.
The four brothers frowned without even a single eyebrow, corrected their attitude, and took up their posture.