A person in Tokyo becomes a demon god

Chapter 262 Black and White

"Alex, your ability is indeed very useful."

Tony, the skinny black man who had been running with his belly rolled up, was still panting heavily.

"But is this really okay?"

Not only him, but Tony's mother, older sister, and younger sister all lost tens of kilograms instantly, falling from the 'elephant' level to the 'antelope' level.

This was certainly not because they suddenly mastered some kind of 'divine skill' or gained supernatural power; rather, it was because most of their fat was absorbed by Alexander's 'little elbow,' which resulted in an instant weight loss effect.

This ability is a tribute to the legendary liposuction surgeon, 'Green Bull'.

Of course, fat can be absorbed.

Since the skin doesn't just disappear into thin air, they all need to carry the layers of skin around their waists while running.

"if not?"

Alexander, who was waving his right hand and slaughtering his enemies, turned around and asked in an annoyed tone.

"Are you planning to drag that fat body out of this city?"

Forehead,
Tony was speechless.

Having run all this way, they were exhausted and had to escape New York?

It seemed impossible, but after having a large amount of fat absorbed by Alexander's right hand, the group, now 'lightly equipped,' didn't need their bodyguards to drag them around, even if they weren't helping in the fight.

boom!boom!boom!boom!
The bodyguards, now free to move, opened fire to protect other areas.

Most of the 'zombies' and 'mutants' were drawn away by the active Alexander and his 'little elbow,' leaving the bodyguards to deal with only a few zombies.

Furthermore, since the 'employer's family' could run around on their own, the pressure dropped dramatically, and in the process of fighting and retreating, not a single person fell behind.

and so:
"Hey, wait a minute, everyone!"

A white man in a suit and tie, with his hands raised, ran out of a nearby building.

"I am not infected, and I am not carrying any weapons!"

After stating his position, the white man raised his hands and jogged toward Alexander, who was carrying the head of a 'mutant', at the front of the line.

“Mr. Alexander, I am Mr. Anderson’s agent. We met at Atlanta Stadium.”

“I remember you,”

Click!

He suddenly clenched his five fingers together and crushed the 'mutant's' head in his hand.

Alexander turned to look at the other person.

"I'm sorry, I don't play basketball anymore."

"Yes, yes, Your Excellency Alexander."

Seeing the mutated corpse being visibly shriveled up in the other person's hand, the agent quickly lowered his head.

"My employer, Mr. Anderson, wishes to evacuate with you. Is that possible?"

"Huh? I think you just want Alexander to protect you!"

Tony, clutching his sagging skin, started yelling. He'd lost all his fat but his IQ was still questionable.

"It doesn't matter,"

Young Alexander raised his hand to shut up his idiot brother and grinned.

"In the face of supernatural disasters, we should all help each other. Let Mr. Anderson come over."

"Yes, thank you, thank you!"

The white agent was overjoyed and immediately turned around and waved his arm.

Soon, a group of Lao Qian's family members, also under the protection of bodyguards, hurriedly ran over from the buildings by the roadside.

“Mr. Alexander, thank you for taking me in.”

The middle-aged man in the lead bowed his head respectfully.

The others also either lowered their heads or half-squatted.

"Mr. Anderson, this is not the place to chat, let's go!"

With a flick of his elbow, the entire team immediately continued to advance under his command. At such times, he openly displayed his mutated right hand, and not only did no one fear, doubt, or question him, but everyone would subconsciously follow his lead.

Because in situations like this, fists are power!

Only his hand can lead everyone to fight their way out.

"Wait, Your Excellency Alexander!"

"We also"

As the team continued to move forward, more and more people who were staying in the building came out and joined the team.

As the saying goes, those who can afford to live in Manhattan are almost all either very rich or very powerful.

In theory, if everyone stays inside the building, the strength of modern buildings can greatly slow down the spread of infection and reduce the pressure on rescue efforts—however, in such a situation, who would be willing to entrust their life to the government? Especially the current federal government of America.

If you can find a way to escape on your own, then do so.

Compared to the vague and uncertain rescue efforts, this 'supernatural being' who charged ahead and was not afraid of infection was right before our eyes.

Of course, we must seize this lifeline!
"Alex, can you hold on?"

As the crowd grew larger, Tony, clutching his belly, ran to the front and approached his brother amidst the carnage, asking him with concern.

"Should we just abandon these guys?"

"No, I'm fine."

After being parasitized by 'Little Elbow', Alexander became immune to viral invasion.

After absorbing a large number of 'zombies' and 'mutants', his arm became much stronger! It even fed back a warm current into his body, which is probably what the island nation calls 'ki' and what the American government calls 'psychic energy'.

Now, he's a supernatural being too!

With his life-threatening situation averted, Alexander immediately began to think about other things: his gaze secretly swept over the ranks behind him.

“Tony, these people are all our ‘points’.”

America

It is a country with a 'points system'.

Just like shopping at a supermarket, all actions can be seen as earning varying amounts of 'points'; when you have enough points, you can use them to redeem certain items—this is how high society operates.

Saving lives is also a kind of 'points': after these people escaped, they all owed Alexander points, which they could exchange for various conveniences at any time.

Simply put, everything can be seen as an exchange of benefits.

Turning their backs on you?
That would lead to being ostracized by the entire 'high society'. Times have changed, but these powerful and wealthy individuals still control astonishing wealth and resources.

This right hand alone is not enough to make Alexander invincible: once he gets out, he doesn't want to be lying in some secret laboratory where the 'points' on these powerful figures will come in handy.

In this supernatural age, whether to befriend a powerful supernatural being or remain on the sidelines, these shrewd people will not find it difficult to choose.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

On the other side of Manhattan,
"Games, figurines, comic books, my dear brother, don't you have any other collections?"

In a high-rise apartment building dozens of floors down, young female reporter Dana rummaged through her belongings, sighing repeatedly.

As expected of the older brother's room?
What are these!

"Actually, the content is quite interesting, don't you think?"

Smith, who was picking up a comic book and flipping through it, replied, only putting the comic book down when he noticed his sister staring at him after she had stopped.

"OK, OK,"

Find something that can help him recover his memory, or rather, understand what happened before.

After searching for a long time, I found nothing of value.

Smith used to be a very meticulous guy.

"Don't you keep a diary?"

Faced with his sister's questioning, Smith shrugged helplessly.

"Sorry, I don't remember anything."

Besides, who keeps a diary if they're a decent person?
She's not some little girl from an island nation.

Ok?
Why would he have this idea, just like a Japanese girl who has only recently come into contact with someone who writes a diary?

Thinking of this, Smith froze on the spot.

"what happened again?"

This made Dana, who was still searching, look up.
"I think I've regained a sliver of my memories. Diary? Island nation? Puppet monster?"

Like fragmented images appearing in the fog, Smith, clutching his head, frowned deeply.

"Yes, I think I've recently been involved in some supernatural events!"

? !
"Memories are beginning to return—"

"Is this what they call 'stimulation recovery'?"

The young female reporter Dana had naturally heard of such cases: when amnesiacs come into contact with familiar people, things, or events, their memory centers are stimulated, thus allowing them to retrieve their memories.

"Come on, let's try other words and see if we can stimulate more memories."

However, after excitedly trying out various 'keywords',

Smith just shook his head blankly.

this,

"Perhaps the stimulation wasn't enough. Let me think."

Dana, who had squatted down to rummage through drawers and cabinets, suddenly stopped because a photo frame had fallen out of the cabinet.

It's a photo of a blonde woman and Smith.

And it was a wedding photoshoot: a pure white wedding dress and a black suit.

Judging from the photos alone, they were undeniably a handsome couple. Unfortunately—neither of them were exactly what they seemed.

"This is,"

A hooded head peered out, and Smith looked at the photo with curiosity.

"My wedding photo? I'm married?"

"To be precise, it used to be."

Dana explained helplessly that she hadn't been in contact with her scumbag brother for three years, but as his sister, she still knew about some of his important affairs.

"Karen Parker, your ex-wife."

"I divorced him two years ago and then went to an island nation."

It's both a promotion and an escape from trouble.

Because the family of the wife he abandoned was also quite powerful.

Of course, as Smith was promoted and sent abroad, the other family could only rage helplessly: they were just stepping stones for Smith to climb the ladder.

"A young lady from a prestigious family?"

This word made Smith pause again.

"Yes, that's exactly the feeling. I think I felt something similar when I was in an island nation!"

The daughters of noble families are all a bunch of arrogant and foolish people.
No, such a thought is arrogant in itself.

After first 'examining' his own arrogance, Smith looked at the blonde beauty in the photo frame.

"Dana, do you know where she is?"

Smith has lost almost all of his memory, but if he's not mistaken, the other person might also be a New Yorker who has been caught up in this supernatural disaster.

“In the Bronx, at 175 Grand Concors.”

This place, across the river from Manhattan, is the first choice for many people who are not qualified to enter Manhattan.

This was precisely Smith's shrewdness in choosing a 'stepping stone' that could both help him and prevent it from being discarded and causing a huge backlash.

“Our past,”

Once the target was identified, Smith immediately prepared to take action.

"Confirm Miss Karen's condition."

Perhaps this could stimulate him to acquire more memories.

"Okay, whatever."

Dana walked up to her brother, wrapped her arms around his neck, and tilted her head.

"Thank you for your help, brother."

brush----

Next second,
Smith, holding his younger sister, leaped from the top floor of a building.

(End of this chapter)