Reborn in America: I Have an Equipment Slot

After a while, Edward realized that he didn't seem to be injured and slowly opened his eyes.

Only then did he realize that a fist the size of a sandbag was stopped in front of him.

This scene instantly brought his mind, which had been filled with leaves, back to reality.

"Hey guys, I'm in a good mood today and don't want to see any blood! But if you keep acting so arrogantly, I don't mind letting you taste what it feels like to have your asses ripped open!"

Irving retracted his fist, clenched it, and gestured with his knuckles cracking as he exerted force, which looked extremely intimidating.

"Okay, buddy, you can have this seat today! But if you take it again next time, you'll be in trouble!"

Edward swallowed hard, uttered a harsh remark, then turned and helped his companion escape.

To be honest, the restaurant seats are on a first-come, first-served basis. If they hadn't been with two female companions and wanted to make a good impression, they wouldn't have deliberately caused trouble over a seat.

Seeing the two white men immediately back down and slink away, the surrounding crowd erupted in boos.

Upon seeing this, Edward and his companions' pale faces instantly turned bright red, and they hurriedly left the restaurant.

The two Mexican beauties accompanying him couldn't stand this humiliation. As soon as they left the restaurant, they decisively shook off Edward and his companion, gave each other the middle finger, and turned to leave resolutely.

"F**K! Edward, you coward, you're scared out of your wits by just one Asian guy! My eighty-year-old grandmother is stronger than you!"

Seeing his companion push away his support, wipe his mouth, and look resentful, preparing to return to the restaurant to cause trouble again, Edward quickly stepped forward and blocked his way with both hands. "Hey! Stop, Pete!"

"Is your brain made of dog shit? Didn't you see that Asian guy knows kung fu?!"

"We can't just slink away like this, can we?"

Pete's face flushed red as he pointed to the strange looks from the other diners in the restaurant: "If we just run away like this, what will the rest of the gang think of us?"

"So you'd enjoy going in and getting beaten to a pulp like last time?" Edward took a deep breath, staring intently at Pete in front of him, and said.

Pete gritted his teeth, covered his head, cursed, and turned to kick the LED light bulb beside him hard.

"So what do we do now? We can't exactly go back to our gang members for help, can we? If they find out the two of us can't even beat an Asian, they'll laugh themselves to death..."

Edward took a deep breath, glanced around impatiently, and then focused his gaze on a few black men walking side by side in the distance. An idea immediately formed in his mind.

"Hey Pete, we don't need to bother the gang brothers with something this small. Why don't we just find some lowly black guys?"

……

"Sir, would you like some beer?"

As soon as Irving sat back down, a scantily clad bunny girl waitress quickly approached him and kindly asked if he needed any other drinks.

Irving glanced at her; she was Mexican, with heavy makeup, a good figure, but average looks. He then raised his cocktail, indicating that she didn't need it.

The waitress gave an awkward smile, slightly disappointed, and then left without disturbing the waitress further.

But before the waitress could walk away, a Black man not far from Irving's seat immediately reached out and stopped her:

"What kind of beer do you guys have? Give me a glass."

Seeing that the black man was in good shape, the bunny girl's eyes lit up, and she introduced in a high-pitched voice, "Sir, we have two kinds of beer. One is regular wheat and dark beer, $1-3 a glass, and the other is craft beer, $50-100 a glass. What would you like to drink?"

As she spoke, the bunny girl deliberately leaned forward and puffed out her chest.

"$50 will do!" The black man chuckled, then took out a thick roll of banknotes from his pocket, pulled out five $10 bills, and stuffed them into the other man's leg wraps.

Seeing how generous the other party was, the bunny girl's eyes immediately lit up. She then beckoned to him with her finger and smiled charmingly, "Sir, please come with me to get the beer."

After saying that, he picked up the plate and wiggled his hips as he walked towards the corridor behind the restaurant kitchen.

The Black man immediately got up and followed him.

Irving was immediately shocked by what he saw.

Out of curiosity, he got up and followed the other person when they weren't paying attention.

I saw the bunny girl come to the end of the corridor and press the switch on the wall lamp.

A hidden door slowly opened, and Owen realized that the restaurant was actually a hidden world!

Holy crap, no wonder this restaurant is so popular despite its expensive and mediocre food.

While the bunny girl and the black man went through the hidden door, Irving waited a moment, then followed suit and slipped inside.

The hidden door led to a basement. As soon as Owen stepped down the stairs, he discovered that this enormous space contained more than a dozen interconnected rooms.

The dim, ambiguous pink lighting, coupled with the pungent scent of perfume in the air, made Owen instantly realize where he was.

Irving took a few steps and then noticed a room door that was ajar. He went over to take a look.

Wow, it's all paid programming.

I knew a craft beer couldn't possibly be that expensive!

Looking at the variety of entertainment in the room, Irving couldn't help but sigh, "These black guys really know how to have fun."

Having learned something, Irving turned around and slipped out of the basement.

For him, such a place held absolutely no appeal.

If you really have this need, it would be great to find Tina, who is beautiful, has a sweet voice, and isn't clingy.

As soon as he returned to his seat, Irving noticed that two new Frenchmen had sat down next to him.

The two looked around, seemingly searching for something.

Upon seeing Irving approach, the two Frenchmen immediately crowded around him with admiring eyes.

"Hey buddy, if I may ask, are you of Chinese descent?"

"Bro, you threw that punch way too fast! Were you using Chinese kung fu?"

The two looked on incredulously, gesturing wildly with their hands, incredibly excited, their expressions like they had just met a celebrity.

"I don't know kung fu, I just know a little bit of fighting."

Irving modestly replied, "The main problem is that those two white men were too weak; they clearly smoked too much tobacco."

"No need to be so modest, Bro! I've trained in boxing, taekwondo, and Muay Thai. I could tell you were an expert just from watching you fight! Modesty isn't a virtue in America."

Owen laughed heartily, seeing that the two were experts, he simply stopped pretending: "Alright, you guys figured it out. I'm very good at fighting. Two or three ordinary people are no match for me. I haven't lost a fight yet."

"Oh my god! Never lost? That's amazing!"

"With skills like that, have you ever considered going pro, buddy?"

The two Frenchmen exclaimed in surprise and immediately waved to the waiter, signaling him to move the table and come over to share it with Owen.