I'm building Gundams in America

As the stronghold of the Democratic Party's liberal wing in the United States, California, especially Los Angeles, is one of the cities with the highest tolerance for LBT+ in the United States and even the world.

It even provides very strong legal protections at the state level, prohibiting discrimination based on gender orientation and gender identity in business, employment, and housing.

West Hollywood is a well-known queer culture hub in the United States, boasting a large community and hosting a Pride Parade every year.

The term "queer" is a general term for sexual minorities, encompassing all non-heterosexual and non-traditional genders.

The burly Marshall in front of me, with eyeshadow, a ponytail, a prominent chest, and a scruffy beard, was also a queer.

Her gender identity is the so-called fluid gender, a type of gender identity within the queer community. Simply put, it means that a person's inner gender perception is not fixed and can change with time, mood, environment, and between male, female, androgynous, genderless, armed helicopter, etc.

Compared to specific gender identities such as fixed gender identities like armed helicopters or Coke bottles, mobile gender identities have an advantage.

You can switch to the gender that best benefits you at any time, depending on changes in your surroundings.

Simply put, they want to take advantage of every opportunity.

Looking at Marshall's bulging biceps, Wayne knew he was definitely a skilled fighter. He nodded and said gently, "..."

"Of course, Marshall, good girl. I have a child named Leon, who is just like you. I think you two will become good friends. Now, bow your head."

Marshall's face showed gratitude, and he quickly knelt down in front of Wayne, clasped his hands together in prayer, and lowered his heavily made-up head.

Wayne extended a finger and tapped Marshall's forehead, saying:

"May you be blessed."

The energy of [Basic Witch Doctor] was activated instantly.

A gentle energy flowed into Marshall's body and circulated throughout his entire being.

As a fluid individual, Marshall didn't unload himself; after all, sometimes when he was in a good mood, he might suddenly want to be a man for a couple more days.

Therefore, in order to maintain her personality and figure during her period of female identity, she has recently taken a lot of androgen suppressants and estrogens, which has caused some serious reactions in her body.

They often experience problems such as neuralgia and organ pain.

Despite taking a lot of painkillers, she still couldn't suppress the discomfort in her body.

This is also why American pharmaceutical companies are vigorously promoting the so-called LBT+, including voluntary sex reassignment surgery from elementary school.

Once surgery is performed, patients must take medications to suppress rejection and various painkillers for the rest of their lives. For pharmaceutical companies, this creates a lifelong customer and an uninterrupted ATM.

In America, there are no ideologies, it's all business.

The energy of the [Basic Witch Doctor] surged through Marshall's body, causing her to let out a comfortable groan.

The feeling of complete comfort made her feel as if she were flying in an instant, and she rolled her eyes.

Wayne's fingers quickly left her forehead.

Marshall felt a pang of disappointment, but as his discomfort subsided, a fervent look appeared in his eyes as he gazed at Wayne. He prostrated himself before Wayne, proclaiming excitedly:

"Oh, saint, bless! Thank you, Saint Wayne! It's been so long since I... since I felt like a normal person..."

The feeling drove her crazy, and her gratitude was completely heartfelt.

Seeing that Marshall's demeanor was not feigned but rather genuine, the other officers in the tent instantly abandoned their last bit of reserve and accepted the sponsorship from Mr. Wayne.

The president has made hundreds of billions of dollars in the stock market, and he doesn't even take $2000 for himself. Isn't he out of his mind?

Do you love America, and does America love you?

At the same time, even Officer Zane, who had seemed so insistent just moments before, spoke to Wayne with a sincere expression:

"Sir, may I truly bring my grandmother here to pray for your blessing?"

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He was raised by his maternal grandmother from a young age, but now his grandmother suffers from Alzheimer's disease, has completely lost her ability to take care of herself, and has even forgotten him.

With his income, he simply couldn't afford to send his grandmother to those expensive nursing homes, so she could only live in a public nursing center.

If he hadn't worn his police uniform every day to visit his grandmother and deter those malicious bastards, she might have been raped countless times inside.

Having witnessed Marshall's transformation firsthand, he instantly realized he had to grasp at this lifeline.

Wayne nodded and looked at Zane. The arrogant young policeman had completely lost his arrogance and lowered his head.

He said at the moment:

"Of course, Zane, as I said, bring her here."

A look of gratitude appeared on Zain's face, and tears welled in his eyes as he said, deeply moved:

"Oh, Saint, thank you, I thank you for my grandmother's kindness..."

This scene made the other police officers unable to hold back any longer. Several officers who were already suffering from illness immediately knelt down and asked Wayne for a blessing.

The black-haired, black-eyed saint in front of them welcomed everyone and blessed each of the police officers present.

When they felt their pain disappear and the suffering that had tormented them for days vanish, the police officers were immediately overwhelmed with gratitude.

They had already accepted the black-haired, black-eyed saint before them from the bottom of their hearts.

It instilled a deep sense of awe for those in positions of authority.

Seeing that his men had been completely won over by Wayne and were so cooperative, Cyril breathed a sigh of relief.

The safest way is for everyone to make money.

After blessing the last officer, Wayne looked at Cyril and asked in a deep voice:

"Cyril, my child, do you have any familiar friends at Timur State Prison?"

Cyril paused, pondered for a moment, and then quickly said:

"Sir, I once had a colleague who, after being dismissed for killing a Black criminal with prior convictions for rape, drug trafficking, and child trafficking, went on to work as a prison guard at Timur State Penitentiary. His name was Langdon."

Before Wayne could ask for details, Cyril continued:

"I know his situation is very bad. He is desperately short of money... No one in America is not short of money. The previous lawsuit almost bankrupted him. In addition, he has serious occupational diseases... And after that lawsuit, his wife divorced him..."

Wayne, with a look of pity on his face, said:

"Very well, Cyril, my son, bring this Langdon to me."

Although it's unclear what Wayne actually wants to do, it's obvious that he's preparing to do something to Ironwood State Penitentiary.

"I won't ask what I shouldn't ask," Cyril quickly nodded and said.

"Of course, sir, I'll contact him in a bit."

He then glanced cautiously at the time on his phone and said to Wayne:

"Sir, I think we've disturbed you enough today, and it's time for us to leave..."

Having just received instructions from the dispatch center, they couldn't linger here for too long.

What truly tantalized Cyril was the address of the Russian gang's safe house that Wayne had provided.

That's a reward delivered right to my doorstep!

If we can capture all the weapons inside, it will be a great achievement.

Wayne waved his hand and said:

"Of course, officers, please proceed."

Cyril, feeling as if he had been granted a pardon, quickly put his hands together and said:

"May the saints bless you."

He had heard the homeless people here say this before, and he had found it somewhat funny at the time, but now it had become the words he most wanted to recite.

The officers saluted Wayne, then got into their patrol car, started the engine, and sped away.

"Boss, shall we go to Manchester to provide support?" Zane, who was driving, asked quickly.

Cyril shook his head and said:

"No, we're going to Baker Street..."

As they spoke, the sirens blared.

A convoy of six police cars, sirens blaring, headed toward Baker Street.

Although Marshall and the others didn't understand why Cyril wanted to take them to Baker Street, a place far from the fighting, they restrained their urge to express themselves after their encounter with Wayne today.

Soon, they arrived at Baker Street.

This is a quiet little street located in a Russian-American community.

The police car carrying Cyril had just come to a stop when Zane, the driver, stared wide-eyed ahead and said in a low voice:

"May the saints bless them, it's someone from the Russian faction!"

Several black cars were parked in front of them, and several tall, burly Russian men had just gotten out of the cars. They were all stunned when they saw the police cars in front of them.

"Kill them!" Cyril shouted excitedly, opening the car door and raising his gun.

Behind him, several other police cars sped up and surrounded the Russians!

[Your base skill level as a Witch Doctor has increased to Master 44.4% + 0.6%]

Experience Points: 103 + 6