Martin Variety in American Comics.

Chapter 472 Where did we get to? (Please subscribe, read, and comment on the monthly ticket)
Martian Manhunter had to admit that Martin's concerns were justified.

Most of the officials in these third world countries have this plan. What they think about every day is how to exchange their country's resources for US dollars and then send their families to the United States.

If the country can still be maintained, they will continue to make money; if an accident happens, they will flee to the United States by plane and continue to live the life of the rich.

Since the beginning of the Age of Discovery, the colonial princes have begun to do this, currying favor with the masters of the colonial countries and maintaining their status in their own countries.

Once a war breaks out, they flee to the colonial country and become second-class citizens.

After World War II, the extremely inefficient old colonial system was dismantled, and the Americans developed the method of financial colonization.

Anyone in the third world who has US dollars can go to the United States to live the life of a wealthy person and enjoy the free American life.

But how to exchange things from the third world into US dollars depends on the attitude of the Americans.

Although the president signed a series of agreements with the Justice League, it did not prove anything. However, he still refused to admit defeat in the face of artillery fire, which proved that he still had feelings, or ambitions, for this land.

Martin didn't care about the president's feelings towards the country, as long as he could stick with it and not leave easily, that was enough.

"It looks like my life is over!"

The President was sitting in an air-raid shelter. The artillery fire outside was so fierce that the top of the shelter was shaking and dirt was falling down.

He is a student from the United States. He wears a suit on a daily basis and always looks neatly dressed.

But now, he had torn off his tie, his suit was open, the white suit was covered with yellow dirt, and he looked disheveled.

After repelling the first wave of attacks, the president ordered everyone to hide in the air-raid shelter.

When third world countries go to war, they only have three tricks up their sleeves. Especially in Africa, the countries are still relatively poor and cannot even maintain daily military training, so naturally they cannot use any advanced tactics.

"I am the president. After all, I have lived a glorious life for a few years. It doesn't matter if I die here. I will only cause you to die here with me."

The president had the opportunity to escape, but he just didn't want to.

His family was well-off. His grandfather was a top-ranked businessman in his country. He was engaged in international trade, which actually meant selling local minerals to industrial countries at low prices.

By his father's generation, they started by selling cheap mining resources and processing primary industrial products.

This transformation did not allow his family to accumulate more wealth, but it turned them from ordinary businessmen into a force that could not be ignored in the local area.

When it came to the president's generation, he was sent to study in the United States at the age of 12. With the US dollar paving the way, he received an elite education and seemed to be no different from Americans.

But although he was a black man, he was a black man from Africa, so his skin color not only failed to bring him any privileges, but instead he suffered humiliation from native Americans.

From that day on, he decided to return to his country and let these Americans see what he was capable of.

He had ideas and the resources to implement them. After returning to China, he began to engage in politics. He used various tactics to ascend to the presidency and fought wits and courage with various forces.

After a few years, he felt like he had aged decades, but had not achieved any results.

At this time, the Justice League arrived in the desert, although those superhumans did not intend to directly influence the surrounding countries.

But the president still saw hope for changing the situation. More importantly, he no longer had any choice. If he didn't give it a try, he would have to step down in disgrace and watch all his life ambitions being buried in the yellow sand.

As it turned out, he made the right bet on the Justice League this time. Not only did they provide a lot of technology, but they were also willing to fund the construction of a large amount of infrastructure and send people to work in rural areas.

"Even if I am given another six months, with the help of the Justice League, I can definitely make this country a different place. But now, everything is in vain."

The president sat dejectedly on the ground, looking at the pistol in his hand and smiling miserably. His black face actually looked unusually pale.

"President, we haven't lost yet. The Justice League has invested a lot in us. They will never watch these investments go to waste. They will definitely come to rescue us."

The guards trained by the president's family sat around him, holding his arms, fearing that he would not be able to figure it out and do something stupid.

The president's military forces are divided into two parts. One part is the guards trained by his family himself, who share common interests and are absolutely loyal.

The other part is the mercenaries, and they are the ones who were ready to take action before.

The president spent a lot of money to hire these mercenaries, so there is no need to care about their lives.

But the president had a premonition that he was on the verge of death, so he dragged the mercenaries away from the artillery fire and into the air-raid shelter.

"They work for money, but now they are in a situation where they have the life to make money but not the life to spend it. It would be abnormal if they didn't have any thoughts."

These presidents were a little too calm and didn't take everything to heart: "But now there are artillery fire outside. Even if they want to kill me, it's impossible to use my head to exchange for a life."

"Those rebel shells don't know my head any different than any other head."

The mercenaries knew this better than anyone else. Even if they cut off the president's head and avoided the bombardment of heavy artillery, they could also escape the encirclement of the soldiers.

The mercenaries want $100 million, and the soldiers outside want it even more.

To some extent, the rebels and these mercenaries are the real enemies, because both sides want the bounty, so naturally they have to kill all potential enemies.

Therefore, even if the mercenaries cut off the president's head now, they would be killed silently by the soldiers before they even saw the leader of the rebels.

The mercenaries soon realized this and fell into despair. They sat in the air-raid shelter, waiting for the artillery fire to end so that the soldiers could rush in and start killing people.

This air-raid shelter only serves the purpose of air defense. There is no escape tunnel underneath. Although a lot of food is stored here, it will be consumed in a few days.

It is better to fight the enemy than to starve to death.

After thinking about it, the death of these people seemed to be certain. They sat on the ground decadently, listening to the sound of gunfire outside, quietly waiting for death to come.

Slowly, the rumbling sound of artillery fire outside the air-raid shelter began to weaken, and the amount of dust shaken off the top became less and less.

Everyone became nervous, as if they could hear the footsteps of death approaching. Even the president, who felt that his life was over and wanted to die, subconsciously tightened his grip on the gun.

But one minute passed, then ten minutes passed.

The attack that these people imagined did not come. The air-raid shelter they were in did not come under any attack, and no soldiers wanted to force an attack.

But the sound of artillery fire outside that had subsided started again, and was even more intense than before.

"What's going on outside?"

This doubt popped up in everyone's mind at the same time. The mercenaries huddled in the corner, unwilling to go out and take risks.

Including several bodyguards around him, they walked towards the door of the air-raid shelter with guns in hand. They looked out through the periscope, but the mirrors on the ground were either blown up or covered with a layer of black charcoal ash, so they could not see anything.

There was no other way, they could only muster up their courage and climb up one level, coming to a small compartment specially used to observe the outside situation. They worked hard to clear away the mud that was clogging the pipes, and then they saw a big knife falling directly down, splitting the meat-like monster in half.

“Are we still on Earth?”

The guards rubbed their eyes, suspecting that they had stayed underground for too long and lacked fresh air, so they saw these messy things.

But when they looked outside again, they not only saw the special blood flowing towards the observation port, but also a robot taller than the building, waving its weapon and killing people.

"This is crazy! This is crazy! There must be something wrong with our eyes and brains!"

Several guards hurriedly ran underground to report this puzzling fact.

At the same time, Martin wielded the crescent-shaped sword in his hand, opening and closing it vigorously, drawing sword lights in the air that looked like the phases of the moon, and split the bullets and shells that were flying towards him into two halves.

The rebel soldiers looked at a huge robot falling from the sky and reacted the same way as those who came out from underground to gather information, thinking they were hallucinating.

But when the cold blade passed in front of them, those large weapons that symbolized strength were torn into pieces by the sword as fragile as paper. The courage and greed in the hearts of the soldiers were replaced by fear, and they demonstrated the traditional skill of the colonial army - running against the wind.

But their commander was still here, so the soldiers just took a few steps back, trying to avoid the terrifying-looking robot.

"What the hell is this?"

The farthest place the old general had ever been in his life was the Middle East, so of course he could not understand what silicon-based life was.

But he firmly believed that no matter what kind of monster it was, it would not be able to withstand the bombardment of artillery fire, so he ordered his army to bring in more heavy artillery, hoping to blow the robot in front of him into pieces.

"There is no problem that heavy artillery cannot solve. If there is, it proves that not enough heavy artillery is being used!"

He said this to his subordinates with full confidence, firmly believing that once the large force arrived, they would be able to resolve the only unexpected incident today. Then, the world would return to the way he knew it.

"If you think like that, I believe you and your army will suffer a great loss!"

The assassin, who had remained silent all this time, finally spoke, but the words he spoke were harsh to the old general.

The general did not know what it meant to be courteous to his subordinates. He said arrogantly: "If you don't know how to fight, please leave here. When everything is over, I will fulfill my promise."

The assassin did not leave. In order to prevent these people from being finished, he had to say something: "Maybe heavy artillery can solve all problems, but it takes time for your army to mobilize. With only these people and weapons, the robot can wipe out all enemies including you before the army arrives."

The old general looked at the robot standing on the ruins of the Presidential Palace. The light reflected by the long sword in the other's hand was so bright that even though there was a distance of hundreds of meters and a pair of sunglasses between them, it still stung his eyes and made him put down his pride.

"Maybe I should listen to your advice. If you have any ideas, tell me now!"

The assassin did not answer. He just pressed a button that looked nothing special. Then the land around the presidential palace began to wriggle. Deformed monsters rushed out of the ground, opening their big mouths or waving their tentacles, and rushed towards Martin who was standing on the ground.

"An old-fashioned biological weapon. Your technology and application have not made any progress!"

Martin kept an eye on the situation around him. Each of these monsters was ten meters long and the mucus secreted from their bodies could corrode most inorganic matter. Every part of their bodies was a deadly weapon.

Therefore, these monsters can move silently underground and launch a fatal attack on the target when the time is right.

But after Martin became a motorcyclist, his perception of the world was very different from that of the people on Earth. Those hidden secrets that he claimed to be so sophisticated had actually been discovered by him through data analysis.

When the monsters move underground, even if they use mucus to corrode the soil in advance, they cannot avoid contact with the surrounding bottom layer.

As a result, their actions created vibrations that were transmitted to the ground and captured by the sensors on Martin's body.

"The moon is as cold as frost, and the thunder is powerful!"

Martin grabbed the tail of the crescent blade and drew a big circle in the air. Wherever the blade passed, everything broke.

The monsters that rushed out from the ground felt the invasion of cold, and then a cold light flashed by. The tentacles or extra limbs on their bodies broke off, and colorful liquid spurted out of the wounds.

Anything around that came into contact with the liquid was immediately corroded into a pool of foul-smelling liquid, and the ground was also corroded into large holes, but it did not cause any harm to Martin's body.

"You think you can take down the Justice League with just these little tricks? I think your ability is just like that!"

Martin taunted these irrational monsters. He loosened his left hand that was holding the knife, grabbed a monster with horns on its head, turned his arm around, and pressed the monster's head directly to the ground.

Then his left forearm transformed into a cannon barrel, spurting out a beam of energy that directly blasted the monster's head into pieces.

At the same time, he stabbed forward with the knife in his right hand, but when he exerted force, his fingers loosened slightly, or the handle of the knife slid from the tail to the middle, turning the long-handled knife into a short knife, and pierced the chin of the black bear-like creature in front of him with one blow.

Our salary has not been reported yet. Purple liquid flowed out of the wound. Martin did not hold back. He turned the hand holding the handle of the knife violently, and the blade that pierced into the opponent's head directly crushed the brain, but it was stuck in the bone.

The monsters on both sides seized this opportunity, opened their big mouths full of sharp teeth and pounced on him, as if they wanted to chew Martin up and swallow him into their stomachs.

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(End of this chapter)