Dark Savages Come To the United States

Two people, one big and one small, were walking on the streets of Hell's Kitchen, and it was still daytime when nothing too hard to see happened, so Bourkesso was quite happy.

"Jill, has this place always been like this?"

Burkeseau was a little puzzled by the lively scene in front of him.

On the street, police cars can be seen slowly driving past, but the gangsters on both sides of the street seem to have not seen them.

As for the elderly, they greeted the police officers in the car. If he hadn't seen the dollar bills passed into the car, Burkeseau would have believed that their relationship was harmonious.

"Yes, it has always been."

Jill seemed a little heavy when talking about this topic.

Being able to grow up safely in this place is simply a torture-level difficulty.

"If this is in a shelter, all the **** on the street will have their legs broken and hung on wooden stakes!"

Burkeseau's voice sounded, attracting the attention of most people on the street.

Hearing the barbarian's undisguised statement of dissatisfaction, the **** seem to be planning to do something to preserve their pathetic pride.

"Old man, what kind of online game are you still playing! I told you that it's not suitable for us old guys!"

At this time, an old voice sounded, interrupting the onlookers around.

The staggering figure of the old barbershop whom I met a few days ago appeared not far away and waved to Bourkesso with a little eagerness in his eyes.

Burkeseau understood that the old man wanted to avoid trouble for him, all out of good intentions.

So I just expressed my disdain for the gangsters in my heart and walked towards the old guy with Jill. Anyway, no matter how much dust it can make Bulkesso feel disgusted at most, it is impossible to hurt him at all.

"I said man, how have you been recently?"

Burkeseau reached out and patted the old guy on the shoulder, looking into his eyes and speaking slowly.

"It's alright. I said last time I wanted to give you a free haircut. Since I saw it today, let's come now."

Speaking of which, this old man is not actually thin, but no matter who stands in front of Bulkesso, who is more than two meters tall, he does not appear to be that strong.

Bourkesso's body is the product of thousands of years of hard work on the battlefield. Strong muscles and moderate fat make his body look extraordinarily burly.

But it doesn't have that distinct and amazing line feeling.

No way, in order to survive better on the battlefield, every soldier will store some fat in his body.

You must know that fat protects the body far more than muscle.

Of course, professionals like monks and witchers pursue the ultimate dodge and flexibility.

Their pursuit of physical fitness is completely different from that of barbarians.

But even the weakest caster profession among professionals, whether it is a witch doctor or a wizard, their bodies are far superior to ordinary people.

Except for those necromancers who deal with corpses all day long, I have never seen them. Although those guys fought for hope and justice, their methods were too terrifying.

At every turn, large corpses explode and ghosts fly, which is really unsightly.

"Who is this little guy? Your grandson?"

The old black man was a little curious when he watched Bourkesso take Jill with him.

In his cognition, most of those superhumans are lonely, and it is rare to hear that these guys have families.

It's like the tight-fitting pervert who has been active in Hell's Kitchen.

I heard it's called Daredevil, but who cares?

The existence of that guy made the gang uneasy at all, and they made all kinds of explosions at every turn.

"Ah, of course you can think so."

Burkeseau patted Jill's head and said with a smile:

"My hair doesn't need any care, but this little guy needs a more energetic hairstyle to make him cheerful."

While talking, Bourkessel took the child into the barbershop he saw a few days ago. The space inside was not large, with only two chairs for haircuts.

And it seems to be some years old.

"Dude, my name is Burkeseau, what's your name?"

Burkessel looked at Luke Cage, who was sitting in the small space behind the counter, and said to the old man beside him.

"Oh, I forgot that I didn't introduce myself, my name is Zach, Zach Strand."

Saying that, old Zach pointed to Luke Cage, who was looking at Burkesso, and was about to make an introduction.

"I remember him, it's Luke."

Bourcasso pressed Jill onto the barber chair.

"Then I'll leave it to you, old Zach, give this child the most energetic hairstyle!"

Saying that, Bourkesso laughed out loud.

Luke Cage on the side seemed to want to say something, but he still chose to shut up.

"Who doesn't know that my old Zach's barber shop is the best in the block, just leave it to me."

Saying that, old Zach came over with a fader.

…

"Uncle, do you really think this hairstyle is very spiritual?"

Jill looked at Bourkessel with a layer of short blond hair like fluff, as if he wanted to see a trace of guilt in Bourkesoe's eyes, but he obviously failed.

After all, for Bourkesso, that long hair is because he is too lazy to take care of his hair. For him, as long as it does not affect the battle, any hairstyle is a spiritual hairstyle.

Counting on the aesthetics of a barbarian, it can only be said that the child is still too young.

It's true that old Zach, as he said, is indeed the best barber shop in this block, even counting the surrounding blocks is no problem.

But neither Bourkesso nor Jill noticed that only black people would come to Old Zach for a haircut, so none of the hairstyles he designed were suitable for Jill, a kid with blond hair.

"Okay, Luke, if you have something to say, you don't have to cower behind us."

Burkessel turned to look at Luke Cage, who was wearing a cheap blouse.

He is somewhat fond of this natural warrior, so he doesn't mind taking a moment to hear what he has to say.

"I think you'd better not come to Hell's Kitchen too often. Your image and character are too conspicuous."

Luke Cage showed an embarrassed look on his face when he said this.

He is a different person, born with enormous strength and invulnerable skin. If it weren't for his extraordinary sense of justice, he might have been Jin Bing's guest long ago.

After all, in his opinion, the Bullseye, who is known as the number one killer, has nothing to do with him.

A killer who uses projectiles and firearms can't penetrate his defenses.

In fact, he was still overconfident.

Although he just wanted to teach Hitt a lesson that night and didn't show his real skills, how could a black man who had no chance to receive combat training be so smart with the melee experience from the streets?

"Is this place dangerous?"

Bourkessel was a little curious. He didn't live in New York for a long time. At most, he felt that this place was extremely chaotic. It would be difficult for a strong man to understand the dangers of this place in detail.

"Yes, the gangs are mixed, and that tight-fitting pervert with two D's on his chest."

Two Ds?

Brother Xia?