Chapter 5

“Oh, I see. Then I’m relieved.”

Suddenly, Alvin, who had just seemed gentle and frail, became cold and distant.

Watching the boy whose demeanor and gaze had suddenly changed as if he were a different person, Hei Ge involuntarily broke into a cold sweat, a sense of dread creeping into his heart.

But the Smith & Wesson MP9 pistol in his hand once again gave Hei Ge courage.

What’s there to fear?

He had a gun—could this kid really kill him in an instant?

Hei Ge’s expression twisted into something monstrous; he licked his thick lips: “Kid, don’t scare me with your bullshit. If you don’t want to die, obey me!”

“Kneel down, and then...”

In the fleeting gap in Hei Ge’s mind, filled with filth and lust.

Alvin suddenly drove his elbow backward, striking Hei Ge’s abdomen with full force.

Caught off guard by the sudden blow, Hei Ge had no time to react—his stomach churned with acid, then Alvin twisted his waist, pushed off the ground, drove his knee upward, and simultaneously grabbed Hei Ge’s hair, yanking it down hard.

Thud!

The fragile nasal bridge smashed against the hard kneecap.

Tears, snot, and blood gushed out together; the searing pain made Hei Ge scream, cursing wildly: “Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna kill you, you little shit!”

But before he could finish, a black gun barrel was shoved straight into his mouth.

The old laser pistol he’d scavenged had poor aim.

But... he’d shoved it down the guy’s throat—how could he possibly miss, even with the worst aim?

“Mmmph! Mmmph!”

Hei Ge’s eyes widened, his pupils filled with terror: “N-no... don’t kill me...”

He never imagined a seemingly frail boy could move with such speed.

Alvin shoved the old laser pistol’s barrel deep into Hei Ge’s throat, smiling warmly: “I still prefer you when you were arrogant. Mind bringing that back?”

Nobody who grew up in the Undercity was innocent.

Fighting and brawling were just kid’s games; even the lowest scavengers in the Undercity held several lives in their hands—Alvin’s former self was no exception.

Even America’s freedom paled in comparison to the chaos of the Undercity—it was at least a hundred thousand miles apart.

“L-let me go...”

Hei Ge begged in terror: “I’m sorry! I swear to God, I’ll never do it again!”

Alvin grinned, showing all his teeth, speaking in a gentle voice: “It’s fine. I never hold grudges. Just be more careful next life.”

Bang!

He pulled the trigger.

A pale blue laser beam pierced straight through Hei Ge’s skull.

A sinful life ended.

Of course, he preferred to call it... purification.

Pulling out the old laser pistol, Alvin said coolly: “Sorry—I worship the Emperor. Who the hell is God?”

Then, without guilt or hesitation, he crouched and searched Hei Ge’s body.

A few bills, smelling of fresh cash, made Alvin revel in the scent.

Thank you, freedom!

Thank you, America!

Thank you, Hei Ge!

From the moment Alvin stepped out of the alley, he encountered three robbery attempts within less than two hundred meters.

Almost every corner turned brought another robbery.

Even his own farts seemed copied and pasted—switching seamlessly from robbery to sexual assault.

Was his face just that obviously easy to rob?

The result, of course, was that Alvin stripped them bare, taking everything he could find.

What Hei Ges?

These were clearly heart-and-soul good brothers!

At least, in the eyes of Undercity-dwelling Alvin, these Hei Ges were as kind as angels compared to the scum of the Nest.

In just one short street, Alvin successfully acquired hundreds of dollars in cash, a U.S.-made Smith & Wesson MP9 pistol, a clean but ill-fitting shirt, and a high-quality tactical dagger—all from the Hei Ges, America’s specialty.

May the Emperor protect me!

With his bounty gathered, Alvin silently performed the Sky Eagle Salute in his heart.

Thank you for America’s gift—he finally didn’t have to wear that ragged thing that either exposed his upper body or his lower half.

As for those who tried to rob him, Alvin naturally gave each one a bullet, sending these scum to repent before God.

Bang!

A gunshot echoed, smoke spreading.

Watching the man lying in a pool of blood, Alvin felt no psychological burden.

Scum must be treated as scum.

Like with a single bullet.

He wasn’t Batman, nor some superhero bursting with justice—he had no time to debate human rights or laws with criminals.

Blowing away the smoke from the barrel, Alvin walked away calmly.

Night fell; the entire street glowed under neon lights, crowded with people.

Alvin, clutching his “fortune” of a few hundred dollars, scanned the shops along the street, finally fixing his gaze on a fast-food restaurant.

Without hesitation, he strode straight in; seeing the burgers on the sign, his saliva flooded his mouth, hunger briefly dominating his thoughts.

Forget all other goals—he now craved nothing more than a proper meal!

After barely escaping the grim hell of Warhammer, even if only temporarily, it didn’t stop him from reliving the taste of real food from memory!

Under the slightly surprised gaze of the cashier, Alvin held up three fingers: “Three A-meals, please.”

Fortunately, the Navigator System came with a built-in language translator, removing all communication and reading barriers.

“Sir, are you sure you want three A-meals?”

The cashier looked at the slender Alvin at the counter and said: “Our A-meal includes a double beef burger, a serving of fries, a serving of chicken nuggets, and a drink. Even a normal adult can only finish one. Three is too much—you won’t be able to eat it all.”

“Huh? Really...”

Alvin hesitated.

Just as the cashier thought he’d changed his mind, Alvin shook his head and said: “Three might not be enough. Give me five A-meals.”

The cashier twitched his lips—had he just wasted his breath?

But the customer was god, so what could he do? He nodded, took the money, and said: “I hope you won’t waste it.”

The moment he bit down, complex flavors flooded his mouth.

Soft bread held sweet jam, paired with pickled cucumbers and tomatoes, and a thick, juicy patty—Alvin was so moved he nearly cried.

This was what humans were meant to eat!

What’s that nutrient gruel? Dogs won’t eat it!

Nutrient gruel was good—good because it had nutrients.

Okay, to be honest, if he had a choice, Alvin would rather eat British food—even Indian... oh, no, that would actually kill him.

But he wanted something humans actually ate.

He devoured five beef burgers, two servings of fries, four Cokes, and five servings of chicken nuggets, then patted his bloated stomach and wiped his mouth, thoroughly satisfied.

At that moment, the TV in the fast-food restaurant suddenly aired a news report.

The Lightbringer of the Super Seven will officially retire tomorrow, and a retirement ceremony will be held.

“Perfect. It’s early in the plot.”

Watching the Super Seven on the screen, Alvin finally confirmed the current plot point.

The Lightbringer’s retirement meant the plot had just begun.

Trainhead, high on drugs and out of control, accidentally crushed Huey’s girlfriend—and this incident became the spark for the following chain of events.

Of course, Alvin didn’t care about Huey, nor would he judge Trainhead—he had no such idle time.

What truly mattered to him... was Trainhead’s girlfriend, Claw Woman.