Marvel's whitewashing cop, you want me to save the world?

Chapter 148 Welcoming You, Gods and Mortals

When Brock returned to the police station office after informing all the gang members.

I saw that Li En was still sitting behind the makeshift desk, flipping through the patrol report that had just been delivered.

He was somewhat surprised.

"I heard that Bruce Banner, Dr. Connors, and Tony Stark were all taken to that aircraft carrier by Nick Fury. Why didn't you go with them?"

After Baron was injected with the second type of Dragon's Blood Potion, his energy and reaction speed increased significantly.

He is now in charge of intelligence gathering and communications coordination for the entire Umbrella system.

He was the first to relay the news of the three top scientists being taken away to Li En and Brock.

Lee En curled his lip: "I'm not interested in that stuff. Besides, this is a crucial time for my New York City mayoral campaign. Why would I leave New York?"

Brock laughed, walked over and patted him on the shoulder: "I thought I would be going to the banquet for you tonight, but I didn't expect you to stay."

Sigh, looks like I won't be able to attend one of those high-society gatherings again.

"Go if you want, come along," Li En replied nonchalantly.

"Never mind," Brock waved his hand and turned to walk towards his desk.

"I don't have much in common with those high-class guys."

Moreover, there are a few people I actually know, and seeing them makes me angry.

I'd rather not go; I don't want to lose my temper and beat someone up at the banquet.

He plopped back into the slightly sagging old chair, pulled open a drawer, took out a cigar, lit it, leaned back, and exhaled a long puff of smoke.

Li En pressed the button on the side of the watch, and a light screen popped up.

Tony Stark's face appears in the frame, against a backdrop of a metal wall covered with various gauges and displays.

"So, Tony, how's that airship going? Can it get into outer space?"

Tony curled his lip, his expression full of disdain: "Completely impossible. This thing is at most floating in the atmosphere, using all existing technology. Some of its subsystems are even inferior to my Mark armor."

To put it bluntly, this thing only works on Earth, and that's assuming it's not under concentrated fire.

Although he had only recently boarded the mothership, given his personality and Jarvis's efficiency, the entire ship had been thoroughly ransacked inside and out.

The key point is that after he did all this, Nick Fury and his S.H.I.E.L.D. remnants didn't even notice.

"Moreover, this thing is too big and too conspicuous, making it too easy to destroy."

If it were to be subjected to concentrated firepower on Earth, it would be blown up in no time.

Not to mention taking it to outer space to fight aliens head-on; at that point, whether its radar would even be usable is questionable.

Tony's tone was full of undisguised disdain.

He paused, as if afraid that Li En hadn't understood his meaning, and added, "To be honest, in the eyes of the three of us, this thing is just a slightly larger means of transportation."

"If I wanted to, I could easily build a better one anytime with some time and materials, so it's not very meaningful."

Bruce Banner leaned halfway out from the edge of the frame and nodded repeatedly: "Tony is right, the airborne carrier is indeed not of much reference value to us."

The reason the three of them accepted Nick Fury's invitation to board the mothership was partly because they were intimidated by the title.

An aircraft carrier that is normally suspended in the air does indeed sound plausible.

When they arrived at the scene, they were nothing but disappointed.

"At least you have convenient transportation up there and can provide support to the ground at any time, so just stay there for now." Li En didn't say anything more and changed the subject.

"Steve still refuses to use the Dragon Blood Potion?"

Dr. Connors walked in front of the camera, adjusted his glasses, and said with a hint of helplessness, "That's right, I don't know what he's thinking, he just won't listen to anything I say."

His physical data was completely different from Banner's, and all the test results indicated that he could fully benefit from the Dragon's Blood Elixir.

Especially the second type, which would significantly enhance his super-soldier physique, but he just wouldn't agree.

Banner pursed his lips but didn't say anything.

His situation is different.

His cells underwent a fundamental mutation after being bombarded with gamma rays, and now they possess extremely strong phagocytic abilities.

Once injected with the dragon's blood potion, it is completely digested in minutes, without even a splash.

The enhancement effect is zero, so it's not very meaningful.

On the contrary, Hulk gets stronger as he gets angry, but the reason behind this is unknown.

To be honest, he himself still hasn't figured it out.

But Steve Rogers is different.

The Super Soldier Serum only granted him strength and physical abilities several times that of an ordinary person. Dragon Blood Type I provided him with limited enhancement, but Type II would definitely allow him to take a giant leap forward.

Unfortunately, this American soldier seemed to have gone down a dead end in his thinking and refused to budge.

"Everyone has their own ambitions. If he's not willing, then so be it." Li En waved his hand, not dwelling on the topic any further.

"I'll leave the intelligence gathering to you. I have to attend a banquet."

Tony suddenly leaned in front of the camera: "I've seen the guest list for tonight's party, it's all old guys."

There's no need to give them any face; they're the ones begging us now, not the other way around.

That's absolutely true.

Now, all the old, powerful people in the world are eagerly trying to get their hands on the Dragon's Blood Potion.

They might hesitate if asked to empty their entire fortune in exchange.

But if the offer is 30 percent or even half of their assets in exchange for a chance to live for several more decades, they wouldn't even blink an eye.

"understood."

Li En hung up the call, got up and went out.

He walked through the police station lobby, greeted several officers on the night shift, and went to the garage.

Instead of driving the black Hummers parked in the most conspicuous spots, they found a dusty bicycle in a corner.

He rode his bicycle slowly toward the banquet venue.

Lee En is now a celebrity among celebrities in New York.

Since the launch of Dragon's Blood Pills and the publication of healthcare reform policies, his local approval rating has reached nearly 90%.

This number would be absurd in any democratic election system, but in Hell's Kitchen, no one thinks it's abnormal.

Because those who once didn't believe in him are either dead or picking up soap in prison.

Interestingly, because he had been patrolling the streets for so long, the local residents had become somewhat accustomed to his presence.

When most people bump into this influential figure on the street, they will just stop and take a look, or take out their phones to take a picture from a distance.

There won't be that kind of scene where people scream and rush towards you like they would when they see their idol.

What's even more interesting is another group of people.

Many guys, upon seeing Li En riding his bicycle towards them from afar, immediately turned and disappeared back into the alley, not daring to even peek out.

Just two days ago, a not-so-bright drug addict mistakenly thought that since Lee En was running for mayor, he would definitely have to pay attention to his public image and would not be able to commit violence in the street again.

So, right in front of Li En, he squatted down on the street corner and lit his "special herbs".

I won't go into details about what happened to this guy.

To summarize: his legs were broken at the knees, and he was dragged back to the police station by patrolling officers like a bag of garbage and thrown into a cell.

There was no bail, no grace period, and no one spoke out for him in the newspapers.

What truly drives all the remaining thugs and criminals to despair is that even if you break someone's leg right there in the street.

As long as you wear combat gear with the Hellsword logo, the surrounding citizens will not only not call the police, but will also applaud.

Occasionally, a few scattered doubts would be drowned out by cheers, and even the speaker would not be able to hear what they were saying.

Those who attempt to criticize online will have their dark history of three generations of ancestors dug up by netizens within minutes, and then be drowned in a sea of ​​spittle.

"Dragon Blood Pills only cost ten dollars. After Li En is elected mayor, they will only cost one dollar at the hospital."

Do you know how much an aspirin costs? That stuff only relieves pain, it doesn't cure anything.

"The effects of Dragon Blood Pills are undeniable; at ten yuan, it's practically free."

"Don't even mention that he only broke the poisonous insect's leg. What if he killed the insect in the street? That kind of scum would be a menace if he lived."

"Lee Eun is the future!!!"

Of course, the anger of these netizens also contains another dimension of resentment—from cities outside of New York.

It is actually very difficult for those people to buy dragon blood pills at the original price of ten dollars.

On the black market, they were even being sold for as much as $500 a piece, and countless people were still scrambling to buy them.

So when they heard that New York City residents would soon be able to get pills for a dollar at the hospital window, they were green with envy.

Even more outrageous things happened in other states.

On the day of the gubernatorial election in several neighboring states, a large number of voters crossed out all the candidates' names on their ballots and wrote "Lee En" on them instead.

The incumbent governor of Tennessee only received 12 percent of the vote in the formal election, with nearly 90 percent of the remaining votes going to Lee.

Of course, all these handwritten ballots were ruled invalid according to the counting rules, but the incident itself has already caused quite a stir in American politics.

Everyone can see it clearly.

The name Li En now carries more weight than just the title of police captain.

Therefore, this closed-door banquet for multinational capital, originally scheduled to be held in Germany, was temporarily changed to Lower Manhattan, New York.

Those old folks who would never easily leave their homes this time arrived faster than anyone else.

When Li En arrived downstairs at the venue, he pushed his bicycle in front of a waiter, took out a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, and handed it over along with the handlebars.

"Could you please keep an eye on this for me?"

The waiter's eyes widened, and his fingertips trembled slightly as he took the banknotes. "Yes—yes! Mayor Li En!"

"I haven't become mayor yet." Li En patted his shoulder and turned to walk towards the banquet hall door.

Pushing open the heavy oak door, a blast of cool air, compressed to just the right temperature by the air conditioner, hits you.

Warm yellow light streamed down from the crystal chandelier on the ceiling, spreading across the polished marble floor, polishing it so much that it reflected people's images.

Men in suits and women in evening gowns gathered in twos and threes.

Everyone held a glass of champagne, and the conversation was kept in hushed tones, occasionally interspersed with a few carefully controlled bursts of social laughter.

On stage, a symphony orchestra is playing a soothing melody, the bass notes of the cellos creating a soft yet rich ambiance throughout the hall.

The moment Li En stepped into the hall, almost everyone's eyes turned to him.

There was no whispering or pointing; these seasoned fellows simply turned their gazes in the same direction at the same time, then maintained their individual postures, holding their respective wine glasses.

They were waiting to see who would be the first to go up and strike up a conversation.

There was an elderly man in a suit with gray hair and a slightly hunched back, who clearly had no intention of following this set of social conventions.

He walked straight toward Li En from the crowd, leaning on his cane.

There was no small talk or preamble.

He walked up to Li En, tilted his head slightly, and got straight to the point.

"Mr. Li En, hello, I am the chairman of Mobil Oil Company."

Our company will fully support your election as mayor of New York City, or even governor of New York State.

Even if you want to enter Congress in the future, we will be your strongest support.

After he finished speaking, he extended his right hand, his palm dry and steady.

The expression on that face covered with age spots was neither arrogant nor probing.

It's the final confirmation of a deal that someone who has won at the negotiating table their whole life is determined to win.

Li En looked him up and down, but before he could say anything...

A dull thud suddenly came from the direction of the stage.

The symphony abruptly stopped.

The cellist tumbled off his chair and crashed onto the music stand, making a series of chaotic clanging sounds of metal and paper.

The remaining musicians scattered and fled; some tripped over electrical wires and fell to the ground, while others rushed towards the side door without even grabbing their instruments.

All the conversations stopped at the same moment.

All the light from everyone turned to the center of the stage.

The scepter, inlaid with a gem of the soul, was held by a pale, slender hand, its base gently tapping the wooden floor of the stage.

The owner of the scepter wore a long robe interwoven with dark green and dark gold, his black hair was neatly combed back, revealing a face with sharp features and the corners of his mouth slightly turned up.

Loki.

The cellist who had been knocked over lay at his feet, his body curled up in a ball, motionless.

The rest of the performers had all left, leaving him alone on the stage, standing right in the center of the spotlight.

His gaze swept from the left to the right of the hall, from the front row to the back row, and finally settled on Li En.

The moment their eyes met, the corners of his mouth curved upwards slightly, revealing an elegant smile.

Then he opened his arms and, in a tone as if proclaiming the Gospel in a church, loudly announced to everyone in the hall, "O..."

"Prepare to meet your gods, mortals."