Chapter 81: Hell's Kitchen Travels

In the early morning of New York, a ray of light shone in from the gap of the curtains. Schiller, who was still sleeping, was awakened by the voice of the symbiote.

"I'm so hungry, I'm so hungry, I want to eat brains...eat one brain, eat two brains, eat three brains..."

Schiller sat up from the bed helplessly and said, "Are you still hungry?"

The symbiote ignored him, but just hummed alone. Schiller got up and washed up. The symbiote asked, "Aren't they coming?"

"Who?"

"Those brains."

So superheroes are just brains in your eyes?

But if you have to say that, there is no problem. After all, there are not many superheroes with brains, and most of them have gathered here.

"I'm so hungry, I'm so hungry, I'm so hungry, I want to eat the blue-eyed brain first, and save the brown-eyed brain for the next day..."

Schiller found that the symbiote seemed to be hungry. He kept transmitting a feeling of hunger to Schiller's mind through brain waves, making Schiller a little hungry.

He first went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door, and took out some chocolate to eat, but the symbiote did not stop crying for hunger.

What puzzled Schiller was that he stayed in DC for a long time this time. As a result, he was almost sleepy to the point of being unconscious on the night he met the Godfather.

Schiller was not a person who slept a lot. When he was working, he relied on coffee to stay awake. He could sleep only 4 hours a day, and this state could last for a week without feeling sleepy.

But the day before he came to Marvel, he was full of fatigue and sleepiness just because he had not slept for a day to accompany Gordon. This made Schiller think of his ability to travel between the two worlds. Where did this ability come from? What are the limitations?

After thinking for a while, Schiller found that he could not get an answer from the existing clues, so he planned to solve the problem of the symbiote crying for hunger first.

The symbiote wants to eat brains. Schiller doesn't mind eating the brains of a few criminals in Hell's Kitchen. He is not Batman, so he doesn't follow the law of not killing. Anyway, although this place is not as good as Gotham, you can find some vicious criminals.

"Will you bite off a person's head?"

"Do you want me to do that?"

"No, of course not. You have to know that there are etiquettes for dining. We can't be so bloody. That's too uncivilized. You can get into their heads and eat their brains, but don't make it bloody..."

"Okay, that's fine..."

He really wanted to bite off his head!

Schiller thought that all symbiotes have an ancestor, so they are surprisingly similar in some ways.

Schiller got dressed and went out, planning to walk around Hell's Kitchen to see if he could meet a few unlucky robbers.

Although Hell's Kitchen is not as talented and simple as Gotham, it is not bad.

Schiller just walked to the convenience store on the corner and saw a man in a black down jacket with his hands in his pockets walk in. Telepathy could vaguely feel his current emotions. Schiller stared at him across the street. Sure enough, he took out a pistol from his pocket and pointed it at the boss behind the counter.

Schiller just wanted to walk over, he saw the store owner took out a bigger gun from under the counter and pointed it at the robber. The unlucky robber raised his hands and slowly backed away, running out of the store.

Well, it seems that his luck is not very good. The first robber he met was a stupid thief, and he was a novice. He dared to rob in Hell's Kitchen with only a pistol. It would be strange if he was not shot into a sieve.

Schiller continued to walk forward, crossed a small bridge over the drainage ditch, and passed through the back of an old clothing store.

Hell's Kitchen is somewhat similar to Gotham. Although they are chaotic, evil, and full of criminals, they also have a charming vitality and vitality.

Not far from Schiller Clinic, there is a famous graffiti street. All the buildings here are colorful. The structure of the house seems to be stacked with various colorful containers. The alleys are narrow and small. Various stores are full of retro style of the 1930s. Even the hot dog stand and the hot dog cart are made of iron sheds, and the body of the car is covered with various exaggerated colorful graffiti.

It has to be said that this colorful style appears in such a slum. If you think about it carefully, it feels absurd, but it looks very harmonious. Compared with Gotham, it is much more sunny and energetic here.

If there are too many people in Gotham who are wrapped up in evil and sin, and too many souls who struggle to survive by committing crimes, then in Hell's Kitchen, in addition to criminals, there are many rebels who do not want to be bound by the secular world and actively escape from the orderly society. They live freely and happily here, bringing unique vitality to this place.

The hot dog flipped over with a sizzle on the iron plate. The young man with brown skin and blue eyes, wearing an orange and red apron, raised the spatula in his hand, then turned around and quickly picked up the potato wedges. He said briskly in a Mexican accent: "Would you like some of my special chili? It will keep you awake all day! Free of charge!"

"Are you from Mexico?" Schiller asked in front of the hot dog stand.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said I was a native American, but that's the truth. It's just that my mother brought me here illegally. We crossed the border when I was very young."

The Mexican guy's tone was always cheerful, just like his movements in making hot dogs, with the unique hot and spicy style of South America.

"She now works in a garment factory on the east side of Manhattan. I've loved cooking since I was a child, and I inherited her good cooking skills. Gonzalez's hot dogs are definitely the best in Hell's Kitchen! You can't eat such authentic Mexican hot dogs anywhere else!"

"But isn't taco a specialty of Mexico?"

"Come on, you Americans are not used to eating tortillas. I used to make some tacos, but no one bought them."

"You can make it? Then give me one. When I traveled to Mexico before, my favorite thing was the tacos and The avocado soup "Gonarez made a fingers, showing a warm smile:" You really have taste, the corn roll of Gonzalez's family is also the best in the kitchen! " : "There is no fried corn slices now. You can come again for a while." A few children stretched their necks and looked at it. They found that they did not really have something they wanted to eat. This is the same. When I was a kid, I always felt that I could n’t eat enough ... ”" Are they really hungry? "" Of course, the black child who leads the leader, his father is a freight driver of the hell kitchen. Then there is something left on the truck, which is enough for their family to eat. Although the slums in Hell's Kitchen are also very messy, they are much better than those in Mexico. Most people here can have enough food. "

Soon, the hot dogs, tacos and soup were ready. Gonzalez quickly assembled everything with his hands and feet, like a gorgeous acrobatics, and then handed it to Schiller. Schiller paid and left more tips. Gonzalez was very happy. He knocked on the table with a shovel and said, "You are a friend of the Gonzalez family. I will give you a discount next time you come!"

Schiller waved at him, and after leaving, he continued to walk along this graffiti street.

In fact, there is not much criminal activity in Hell's Kitchen during the day. The sun shines on the strange buildings, bringing better light and shadow than the various regular buildings on the streets of New York. The messy wires extend from the top of the head to the distance. In the narrow alleys, all kinds of fancy motorcycles and pain cars are stacked and parked, and children's laughter and screams can be heard in the distance.

Schiller found that, just like Gotham, although this place is messy, it also has its unique vitality.

If many people in Gotham have no choice, then many people in Hell's Kitchen are not abandoned by society, but they abandoned the orderly society.

Similarly, the gang hierarchy here is not as strict as that in Gotham. If it were in Gotham, the boss would ask the man who just rushed into the convenience store to rob, which gang he belonged to, which street his gang belonged to, who his immediate boss was, and whether he wanted to start a war. It might even cause a small-scale gang fight.

But Hell's Kitchen is different. The boss here doesn't care which gang you belong to. If you dare to rob, you must be prepared to be shot. No matter who you are, they will pick up guns and defend their industry to the death.

To some extent, the folk customs here are more simple. Don't look at the warm and thoughtful service of the Mexican hot dog guy. Schiller saw two big guns behind his hot dog cart. If there is really any blind gangster who dares to rob him, Gonzalez will definitely let them see the enthusiasm from Mexico.

But at the same time, Gonzalez is also happy to pay protection fees to the gangs on this street. Gang members also like to buy breakfast from him, and he even gives them discounts.

There are not as many tragic and painful stories here as in Gotham. Most people make a living on the road of pursuing freedom, living freely and indulgently, just like the rock music often played in American road movies, revealing a unique sense of humor.

If Satan enters Gotham, he will be peeled off several layers of skin by the layers of gangs with strict order, and then he will be invited by the Godfather to "talk", and maybe he will be hit by a club from a weirdo in tights, and then the police will press his head and send him to a mental hospital. He can't leave without paying money.

But in Hell's Kitchen, if Satan comes here, people here will rush over with pots and pans, chop Satan into pieces, fry and deep-fry, and even have a food competition of various countries and races.

Everyone here is a cook. Their cooking skills are not superb, but almost everyone can feel happy in the process of cooking the devil.

This is Hell's Kitchen, a place that pursues extreme freedom, chaos, happiness and wildness.

No one can be the emperor here, and no one can be the savior here, no matter how big the gang is.

All the people here and their lives represent the extreme rebellion against those boring and orderly societies. This is the biggest graffiti on the map of New York, messy, but colorful, and no one can erase it.