The 5000-year-old girl in American comics

Chapter 21 Restless New York

Diana was told by Thor's neighbor when she was about to visit him after get off work.

However, seeing Mjolnir firmly bound by the Lasso of Truth, Diana no longer cared. Based on the descriptions of Thor's neighbors of the people who took Thor away, Diana had a pretty good idea of ​​whose people they were.

After all, we've dealt with each other for so long; it's S.H.I.E.L.D., after all.

Standing on her rooftop, looking up at the sky above New York City, Diana squinted, feeling that the once calm lake of New York had inexplicably begun to ripple recently.

Diana withdrew her gaze from the sky and returned to her room.

Meanwhile, in the Tri-Wing building in Washington, D.C., an agent wiped the cold sweat from his brow. Diana's gaze just now made him feel as if she might appear beside him at any moment.

Forget it, I'll just go play with my little bee. Monitoring an extraordinary being is too much of a test of my mental fortitude; I'm sure my two bosses will understand.

Just as he turned to play the game, a red figure darted out of Diana's small building.

The red figure was none other than Diana herself.

Her destination was Hell's Kitchen, one of the most chaotic parts of New York City.

There have been far too many deaths in New York City lately. Diana found the rising death toll strange starting two weeks ago, but since the police reports indicated that the deaths were all gang members involved in gang fights, she didn't think much of it.

But no gang could possibly have so many survivors after two weeks of fighting; no one would continue.

But this impossible thing actually happened.

If we don't understand, we need to find out. These people are starting to affect the lives of civilians. Whether they die or not is irrelevant; civilians are not a reason to be dragged into their battle.

To understand what happened, we need to start from the source, and the source of all the questions lies in our destination: Hell's Kitchen.

In Hell's Kitchen, several figures gathered together, much like company shareholders sitting together discussing the company's future direction, except that they were seeking human lives.

"I want to know why those bastards haven't been dealt with yet!" The man sitting at the head of the table exuded an overwhelming sense of oppression.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Fisk. We don’t know how those outsiders managed to do it,” the man with a thick Russian accent said to Mr. Fisk. “They just keep popping up like worms.”

“No, just like rats can always survive in all sorts of disgusting places,” another figure said.

……

Fisker understood that the problem wasn't with the people present. But the recent fighting in New York had begun to draw the attention of those big shots who shouldn't be focusing on these petty squabbles.

“This can’t go on,” Wilson Grant Fisk sighed, rubbing his temples. “While I don’t want things to turn out this way, continuing this struggle will inevitably bring down some people.”

The man with the Russian accent wholeheartedly agreed, and he had been quite troubled lately. One of the best hitmen at a mainland hotel was quitting, which annoyed him, but he was also distracted by the affairs of those outsiders.

“I will talk to them,” Fisk said, waving his hand to dismiss the meeting.

"boom!"

The sudden sound caused the figures present to glare angrily at Fisk.

What do you want to do?

"Are they using this meeting as an excuse to get rid of us?"

……

Fisk frowned and shook his head.

Everyone knew that the man in front of them wouldn't attack them under these circumstances, but who could believe it?

How many of the members at this meeting are truly trustworthy?

No.

Just as everyone inside was on guard against each other, the door was smashed open by a figure, who continued on his way and crashed onto the conference table where a group of people were sitting.

"Splash!"

At this moment, no one cared about the shattered conference table; all eyes were fixed on the doorway. The dust and smoke kicked up by the immense force of the impact obscured their view.

What? You mean that person? To them, those who hadn't been able to step into this house before weren't important figures.

As for that inhuman strength, few of us here haven't seen those extraordinary beings, not to mention those street heroes who are always getting on our bad side.

Diana's figure slowly emerged.

Even amidst this smoke and dust, her body remained spotless, and her beautiful face was free of any dirt.

"Looks like we have another female hero adversary now," a Black man whistled and laughed.

"Young lady, are you cosplaying Wonder Woman?" Another gang leader was even ready to touch the red armor to see if it really fit her. Who could resist the allure of this woman?

But three men, far from feeling relieved, became even more vigilant. Fisk gripped his cane, while the Russian man pulled out a concealed pistol.

The third man appeared calm, but his shrunken pupils betrayed the turmoil within him.

Diana had little patience for these scoundrels.

The man's outstretched hand was snapped open by Diana, revealing the bloody broken arm bone.

"Ah! My hand!"

The next moment, the black man who was whistling was thrown against the wall by Diana.

The person looked as if black, red, and white paint had been completely applied to the wall, which also had an impact crater.

The others realized that this was completely different from the usual street heroes; at least they wouldn't go straight for the kill.

Fisk put down his cane and straightened his appearance. He had just done a simulation; he could indeed beat someone into a bloody mess, but not with a casual flick of the wrist. Especially considering the incredible speed.

This is a gap that no human can bridge; it is a chasm that cannot be closed even with the help of external forces.

Fisk gave up resisting, and so did everyone else. Shoot? That woman was about five meters from the doorway to where that black guy Ruger was standing just moments ago; did anyone notice how she got there?

She could have killed them all just now if she wanted to.

Diana walked up to the man who was still clutching her severed hand and howling.

The man suddenly pulled out a pistol and fired.

"bump!"

The bullet struck Diana squarely between the eyebrows, but its original shape was no longer discernible; only a piece of steel encased in copper remained.

Just as the man fired his gun, everyone hoped to kill the woman dressed as Wonder Woman with a single shot.

Now, looking at the man whose neck had been crushed by the woman with one hand, they could only thank him for telling them that at least the gun was ineffective against this woman.

Finally, Fisk spoke up and asked, "May I ask how this lady should be addressed?"

Diana removed the Lasso of Truth from her waist and bound Fisk.

"Now, I'll ask, and you'll answer."

The light shining from the Lasso of Truth was telling the remaining gang leaders in the room that this thing was not fake.

As the object of the Lasso of Truth's effect, Mr. Fisk is the most qualified to speak on this matter; the burning sensation there is undeniable.

Did you instigate the gang warfare in New York City?

“No.” Fisk had no reason to lie; they certainly hadn’t started this war.

Diana continued, "What is the reason?"

"An outside organization called the Hand wants to get into New York looking for something, but that's impossible."

"So you started the bloodshed?" Diana asked, frowning.

Fiesk was also helpless: "They didn't talk to us anymore, they just sent people into New York, and that's how the war started."

Diana withdrew her Lasso of Truth: "I don't care about your fighting, no matter what it's for, it's not a reason for you to drag civilians into it."

Fisk straightened his clothes again: "Okay. I'm planning to talk to the Hand. Would you like to come, ma'am?"

Diana looked at Fisker, then turned and left.

Chapter 22 Wonder Woman of New York

"It seems that sometimes the appearance of some rats can bring us good results." Fisk looked at the disappearing Diana and smiled.

The Hand's high-profile actions clearly drew out a superhero who had been quietly observing the situation. This hero would most likely have continued living his life otherwise, only because their battle had affected civilians.

"Gentlemen, I hope you won't get any funny ideas." Fisk glanced at the remaining gang leaders. "And don't mess with that woman easily, after all, she's not some street hero."

Hearing Fisker's words, the gang leaders were still shaken; none of them wanted to become a bloody mess.

Soon, all sorts of luxury cars drove away from Hell's Kitchen, and everyone who left had a solemn expression on their face.

That woman placed them all on the guillotine, and whether or not the blade fell was entirely up to her.

Back at the Fisk building, Fisk sat behind his desk and loosened his shirt collar to let himself breathe a sigh of relief.

That woman's oppressive aura was suffocating.

But that face always gave him a strange sense of familiarity.

"Oh! What's wrong with my boss?" The man with a crosshair tattooed on his forehead sat on the sofa playing with his deck of cards. "Did someone make my boss angry? Should I go and..." Bullseye drew a line across his throat with his hand.

Fisk didn't speak, but stared somberly at the plan on his desk, or rather, a photograph within the plan.

“Diana Prince…” Fisk looked at the gentle face, and he was certain that this was the woman from today. Now he finally understood where that sense of familiarity came from.

"Boss, I have to say this chick is absolutely top-notch." Bullseye suddenly appeared.

“Tomorrow, to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.” Fisk closed the plan. “And while I’m at it, inform the Hand of the ceasefire. I’ll have a good talk with them tomorrow night.”

His final words were tinged with a strong murderous intent.

“OK, you’re the boss, I’ll listen to you.” Bullseye glanced at the photo again with a hint of regret, feeling sorry for the woman Kingpin had his eye on.

The cover of that proposal featured the Metropolitan Museum of Art's Charity Night, a project Fisk originally planned, but which had to be postponed due to the Hand, giving Fisk another chance to get to know Diana.

Meanwhile, back home, Diana had taken a nice bath and came to the living room wrapped in a towel, her curvaceous figure on full display. But unfortunately, no one could see this beautiful sight.

I took a bowl of ice cream from the refrigerator and sat down on the sofa.

You turn on the TV, hoping to watch a soap opera while eating delicious ice cream, but obviously that's unlikely.

Diana knew immediately that the figure flashing across the television screen was herself. Why would anyone be so bored as to photograph the sky?!

It was just a short video; a red figure flashed across Brooklyn. You could also hear the person filming repeatedly shouting "Oh my god!"

The video was later confirmed to have no special effects and was fake.