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

Chapter 157 Humans, Stand with Me, Defend Our Home

New York's reaction was extremely strong.

The moment everyone on the street heard the phrase "a demon has descended from the sky," they erupted in chaos.

It wasn't a panic-inducing explosion; it was an explosion that got everyone moving at the same time.

The housewife dropped her shopping bags and ran home, and the convenience store owner pulled down the roller shutter and locked it.

The street thug threw the lit cigarette butt on the ground, pulled out a gun from his back waist, and began checking the ammunition.

No one questioned the truth of this statement.

If Li En says the devil will fall from the sky, then he will definitely fall from the sky.

This person has spoken the truth too many times in New York, and every time someone has paid the price for not believing him.

Now, no one would dare risk their life to bet that he was joking.

"It won't be long before a huge hole appears in the sky, and aliens will invade New York."

As soon as the second sentence was uttered, those who were still standing there in a daze finally came to their senses.

People kept pouring out of the building and rushing to the police station entrance.

They rushed to Li En, shouting, crying, and screaming all mixed together.

No one could hear what anyone was saying, but everyone's face showed the same thing.

"Officer Lee! Are aliens really coming?!"

"What should we do then?"

"God, someone save us!"

Li En took a deep breath.

His chest bulged, forcing a full breath of air mixed with car exhaust and the cold river water into his lungs, then he opened his mouth and the sound exploded from deep in his throat.

"Perhaps some of you are hoping that the military will come and solve the problem."

"Perhaps some of you are praying that even if disaster strikes, heroes will rush to the front to protect you."

"But you are wrong."

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the faces in front of him, distorted by fear and anxiety.

"Faced with an alien invasion, our Hellsword squad will indeed risk our lives."

Our police officers will also bravely rush to the front lines.

But that doesn't mean we can guarantee the safety of every one of you.

He raised his right hand, clenched it into a fist, and tightened all five knuckles at the same moment, making the joints crack.

"You must remember—in the end, a person can only rely on themselves."

The moment the last syllable fell, he swung his arm down.

At the same time, black waterproof tarpaulins were ripped off the sides of the cargo beds of all the trucks and pickups parked on that street.

The curtain rolled up and fell to the ground, revealing the neatly stacked wooden crates underneath.

The crowbar was inserted into the seam of the box lid, and with a sudden upward pull, the wooden board cracked open.

The contents inside were exposed without any concealment under the midday sun.

Assault rifles, shotguns, pistols, and submachine guns.

The matching magazines were wrapped in waterproof oil paper and stuffed in bundles into the gaps between the firearms.

Every cargo box is the same configuration, and the back of every pickup truck is packed full.

Throughout New York City, in every borough, on every major street, there is at least one pickup truck parked.

The moment the black tarpaulins were simultaneously ripped off, all the weapons in the cargo beds of the vehicles were exposed.

They're all laid out so blatantly in front of everyone.

A pickup truck was also parked on the street next to Central Park.

Residents of upscale apartments near Park Avenue stood on the sidewalk.

Staring at the cold, silent metal objects in the cargo bin.

The expression on his face changed completely in a very short time, from shock to fear, and from fear to retreat.

No one stepped forward.

Some people even took several steps back, turned around, and ran back to the lobby of their apartment building without looking back.

They had guns, but those guns were kept locked in a study drawer, wrapped in velvet, and engraved with the family crest—collectibles.

They never associated guns with war.

But Hell's Kitchen is different.

A hunched figure emerged from the crowd at the entrance of the Manhattan Precinct police station.

She walked slowly, her right knee seemed a little weak, and she had to pause slightly before each step to find her balance.

She walked over to the pickup truck, stretched out her thin, wrinkled hand covered in age spots, and took a shotgun from the cargo bed.

With the butt tucked under his armpit and the gun held horizontally across his chest, he pulled the slide with his right hand with a click.

The loading action was swift and clean, without any unnecessary frills.

She checked the ammunition and confirmed that the magazine was fully loaded.

Then he pointed the gun at an angle to the ground, turned around, and looked at Lee Eun, who was standing next to the camera.

Ben Yurik's cameraman kept the lens firmly on her.

This footage was broadcast live on every screen across the United States.

Li En quickly stepped forward, his tone unusually tinged with a sense of helplessness: "Mrs. Hudson, why don't you go to the air-raid shelter first?"

"9

"Pah, air-raid shelters are for protecting against human weapons. Who can guarantee what kind of weapons aliens have?"

"Rather than being buried alive in there, I'd rather fight these alien brats."

As she spoke, she seemed to get tired, so she simply shoved the butt of her shotgun into the ground, using the gun as a crutch to support the weight of half of her body.

Then she turned around, took a pistol from the pickup truck, and put it in the pocket of her old, faded wool coat.

"Fuck, alien." She looked up, her gray-blue pupils mostly hidden by her droopy eyelids.

"Hell's Kitchen is my home. Anyone who comes to mess with me will be killed."

The street was quiet for about a second.

Then it exploded.

"Mrs. Hudson is right!"

"This is our home."

"Whoever comes, we'll kill them!"

Li En stood amidst the sudden burst of sound, a smile playing on his lips.

He raised his right hand, clenched his fist, and his voice drowned out all the shouts.

"Take up your weapons—defend your homeland!"

Residents flocked to the pickup truck.

No one pushed or shoved; everyone took the model that suited their needs from the storage drawer.

Those thugs and gang members came armed with guns.

They stood on the periphery of the crowd, shotguns slung over their shoulders, their faces bearing a smile that was hard to decipher—a smile that was either tense or excited.

Some people didn't take anything from their pickup trucks; instead, they went back to their homes and pulled out their long-hidden items from under their beds, behind their wardrobes, or in hidden compartments in their kitchen cabinets.

For these people, a gun they are comfortable using is better than any newly manufactured black market gun.

In just over ten minutes, residents of all the neighborhoods in Manhattan were transformed into fully armed formations.

Men, women, the elderly, and even a few children who looked like they had just passed puberty, each of them was holding a gun.

No one taught them where to stand, and no one assigned them firing zones.

But these people who have lived half their lives or even their entire lives in Hell's Kitchen know better than any well-trained soldier how to fight street battles on their own doorstep.

Just then, a beam of azure energy shot out from the top of Stark Tower, piercing straight into space.

The diameter of the beam of light expanded rapidly within seconds, becoming so bright that even people looking directly at it from across half of Manhattan would involuntarily squint.

The sky was torn open from the very center by that beam of blue light, and the crack spread outwards in all directions along the edge of the beam, growing wider and deeper.

The air began to tremble, and space itself was being forcibly torn apart by some external force.

On the other side of the hole is the cosmos.

It's not the kind of starry sky on Earth that's softened by the atmosphere and veiled in a light blue veil.

It is naked, without any cover, belonging to outer space.

Against that cold, black backdrop, countless menacing-looking aircraft hovered densely.

They are arranged in an array, extending from the left side of the hole to the edge of the right field of vision.

The hull of each spacecraft reflected the cold white light of some unknown star behind it.

Like a group of deep-sea predators who have already smelled blood, they are quietly waiting for the moment when the floodgates are fully opened.

On the space carrier, everyone held their breath and stared wide-eyed.

On the streets of New York, everyone is looking up.

Li En stood directly in front of the camera, drawing Frost Requiem from his waist with his right hand.

The gun was shrouded in a layer of azure and grayish-white mist.

The light from the Cosmic Cube intensified, as if the entire gun was preheating for the ammunition about to be fired.

He raised his gun, aimed it at the ever-widening crack in the sky, turned his head to face the camera, and to all those across America who were watching this scene.

"Aliens are attacking."

"Humans, join me in defending our home!"

"Exterminate these foreign invaders!"

>