I'm the Demon King in Marvel

In this regard, Lin Hao just wants to say: Well done!

Without these two things, how could he master the powerful energy of "Qi", right?

Isn’t such a commemorative thing worth cherishing?

Forgotten Universal Capsule: Yes, you are right!

Behind three glass display cases are three exquisite culture chambers, with three people lying in nutrient solution, thriving.

They are the eleven-year-old clone Bulma, the ten-year-old clone Vegapunk and the nine-year-old clone Yang Guo.

These three clones are different from the previous cheap artificial humans. They grow normally and do not contain any additives. They will be Director Lin’s capable assistants and secretaries in the future.

Why did they cultivate Bulma first when they got Vegapunk's genes first?

Director Lin said that he would never reconcile with gambling and drugs in his life.

Now you know why you should carefully collect pure cotton panties, right?

Because this is a piece of fat that has made a huge contribution to scientific research!

……

After observing the progress of the cultivation, Lin Hao picked up the little devil again and checked its stored energy. Although it had just consumed the "grudges of living things" from several farm tools, it was still far from a hundred shuttles.

The energy required for the little devil to travel each time is constant, but the problem lies in the "randomness". Lin Hao has no control over the world it will go to, nor can he predict what it will bring back.

So after obtaining the ability of the "Brain-Brain Fruit", Lin Hao used technical means to turn all the plot scenes from movies, animation, novels, etc. deep in his memory into 3D videos, which he played on a loop for the little devil every day, and highlighted some famous scenes and high-value items.

Especially the world that the little devil has visited is of paramount importance.

Even so, “ten consecutive draws” could not bring any surprise to Lin Hao, so he had to do “one hundred consecutive draws”, hoping that great force would produce a miracle.

Walking out of this special space and returning to the study, seeing that it was already past five o'clock, Lin Hao no longer took a rest, but went to the training room facing east to sit cross-legged in meditation.

Since obtaining these things, under the spur of a life-and-death crisis not long after, Lin Hao's life has become extremely regular.

If there were no accidents, he would get up at six o'clock every day, meditate for two hours to practice his inner strength, and after breakfast, he would practice his outer strength for two hours according to the six navy training techniques he got from Vegapunk's memory, and then go to work. After get off work, he would practice both inner and outer strength for another four hours.

Internal strength can not only increase the power of fists and feet, but also repair the damage to the body caused by crazy physical training. It can also make people feel refreshed and energetic. It is no problem to fight seven people in one night without hurting the body.

If it were you, wouldn’t you practice?

Through both internal and external training, Lin Hao's physique continued to strengthen, and the "energy" in his body increased day by day. Unfortunately, he did not know the corresponding techniques and could only explore on his own.

……

The sun is rising and the morning light is brilliant.

The continuous gunfire coming from afar was like an alarm clock, waking up the American people.

A new day has begun in free America.

"What an alarm clock with very American characteristics!" Lin Hao opened his eyes and smiled knowingly.

"My dear, it's time for you to act again."

The little devil jumped out, and the three white marks on its spherical body formed a joyful smile.

Please collect, recommend, and read

Chapter 4 Do you want the power of the devil?

If Lin Hao weren't counted, this would have been just an ordinary morning in San Francisco.

Ellen is a middle-aged white woman whose family is ordinary. Her alcoholic husband, rebellious son and the bank's incessant monthly collection bills have completely worn out all her patience.

"Bitch, how dare the babe next door mock me for not knowing how to sort trash? Sooner or later I'm going to shoot her fake breasts!"

Early in the morning, the husband Dane heard his wife cursing. He was still drunk and dazed. He shouted impatiently in the bedroom: "If you want to kill her, go ahead and kill her. Or you can call the police and let them kill her!"

"Don't disturb my sleep!"

"Fuck!" Alan came to the kitchen and chopped a carrot on the chopping board with a knife.

If it weren't for her lack of skills to make a living, her age and out of shape, and her inability to continue to earn a living, Allen would probably have killed her alcoholic husband first.

Alan, who was busy in the kitchen, suddenly noticed thick smoke coming out of the next room. Then an idea came to his mind.

She immediately ran to the phone and dialed "911".

"I want to call the police. There's a fire next door to my house. It looks like someone is setting it on fire."

"Yes, that's right, a black man."

"Yes, my house is on Kearney Street..."

After hanging up the phone, Ellen smiled triumphantly, quickly broke into the bedroom, rummaged through the drawers and found an old camera.

She wanted to take a picture of the bitch next door being beaten to death.

Just thinking about it makes me happy.

Soon, sirens were heard from a distance, and two fully armed San Francisco police officers got out of a police car.

"Hey, George, which family did the person who called the police just now talk about?" The burly Jack Brian put his hand on the holster at his waist and asked his colleague George who had already pulled out a gun.

"It's an arson case. Wherever there's smoke, that's where the crime happened."

George didn't actually listen carefully just now, but he soon found where the smoke was coming from.

"Look, there it is."

This was a townhouse. The black neighbor that Allen mentioned lived to the east of her. But at that moment, there was a slight westerly breeze blowing from the seaside. The neighbor's house had already thrown away the burnt hamburger that caused the smoke, and there was no more smoke. Instead, wisps of smoke drifted towards the apartment further east.

So, two San Francisco police officers came to the eastmost apartment.

Coincidentally, there was also a black man living in this apartment, a 23-year-old Air Force pilot named Will Fortson, who happened to be on his day off and was going home.

The two policemen had drawn their guns. The burly Jack Bryan walked in front, while his colleague George was patrolling the area a little behind.

Knock, knock, knock! Jack knocked on the door, but raised the gun in his hand.

Will Fortson, who was inside the house, heard the knock on the door and asked loudly, "Who is it?"

The two San Francisco police officers did not respond.

Will Fortson, alert, walked to the cabinet, took out his legally owned gun, carefully came to the door, first looked out through the peephole, and saw two armed policemen.

He was so frightened that he quickly took two steps back and shouted, "Who are you?"

The police outside raised their guns a little higher when they saw that he dared not open the door immediately.

"Open the door, open the door now!" Jack Bryan shouted.

Will Fortson inside the door recalled the "friendly reminder" given to him by his black predecessors who had served in the military with him.

War is not the most terrifying thing. What we should really be careful of is the American police.

The young Will Fortson suddenly panicked.

"What are you doing?" Will shouted anxiously from behind the door: "I'm an Air Force pilot!"

"Just you, and the pilot?" Jack outside the door laughed: "Open the door immediately, or we will take further measures!"

Will Fortson panicked and made a decision he would regret for the rest of his life.

He actually walked up to open the door stupidly, and didn't raise the gun, but just held it in his hand.

As the door opened, Jack Bryan noticed his skin color and the gun in his hand with his sharp eyes.

So, unsurprisingly, gunshots rang out.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, six shots were fired in a row.

Will Fortson suddenly fell to the ground, blood spilled out, staining the floor red.

Only then did Jack Bryan shout a warning: "Put down your gun, put it down now!"

Jack stepped forward and kicked the gun out of Will's hand, still pointing the gun at the still breathing black man.

George quickly went into the house to search, and soon returned with a hint of panic. He quietly leaned close to Jack's ear and whispered, "Damn, he's really an Air Force pilot."

Jack was stunned. Seeing that many residents had gathered outside the house, he put away his gun with a grim face.

"call the ambulance!"

After saying that, he quickly left Will's apartment, returned to the police car, and immediately called his boss.

"Boss, we're in trouble!" Jack reported honestly, "I shot a Nico, and he turned out to be an Air Force pilot."

"Is the person dead?" the boss asked quickly.

"Not yet, but the situation is not good. I..." Jack said weakly: "I fired six shots."

"Asshole!" The boss was shocked but not panicked. He obviously had a lot of similar experience. He quickly ordered: "Come back immediately. The footage from the recorder must not be seen by anyone else."

"Okay..." Jack was very depressed. He would definitely be "forced to take a vacation" this time.

Will Fortson's breath became weaker and his pupils became dilated.

He heard his neighbor, Aunt Allen, complaining quietly: "Stupid police, they found the wrong room!"

Will looked in the direction of the voice and saw Ellen staring at her next-door neighbor, a black woman who had luckily escaped the disaster, with hatred and regret.

Now he understood everything.

"I…I can't breathe!"

This is what George Floyd and Frank Tyson, two African-American men who were "kneeled to death" by American police, said before they died.

However, Will Fortson was lucky. Just as he was about to die, a mass of darkness enveloped him.

"Do you want revenge? Do you want the power of the devil?"

"Hehehe, give me your soul!"

Will Fortson was stunned at first, and then he said without hesitation: "I do!"

The pitch-black body, curved horns, big scarlet eyes, and arrogant lines are exactly the same as the legendary devil.

People are dying soon, so what if they sell their souls to the devil?