Chapter 2114 Superman's Gotham Adventure (VII)

Chapter 2088 Superman's Gotham Adventure (VII)

Clark did not choose to rush over and ask the children what was going on, because if the other party had a very complete route to deliver the drugs to the children, then they must have been prepared for the attack.

If that was the case, he might not be able to catch the mastermind if he rushed over rashly, and might also put these helpless children in danger.

So Clark quietly descended, and quietly bypassed the welfare building, came to an abandoned building next to it, and observed through the wall what was holding the box of orange juice up.

I saw a box of orange juice slowly rising from the entrance of the sewer, but it was not a human arm that was holding it. Clark used his super vision to take a closer look and found that it seemed to be some kind of tree root.

The reason why he couldn't be sure was that theoretically, tree roots could not move in this way, and Clark couldn't remember which tree roots could grow to this size.

Clark took a step forward, trying to look under the well to see what was under it, and then he heard a bang, and one of the walls of the welfare home was blown open.

Clark immediately rushed out from behind the wall. After the smoke and dust cleared, the children were fine, but a group of people with baseball bats and hammers rushed out of the smoke.

When they got closer, Clark found that these people looked like a group of hippies, with colorful hair, metal rings hanging on their noses, lips, and ears, tattoos inappropriately appearing on any part of their skin, and most of them wearing colorful vests and leather boots with metal nails.

As soon as they rushed in, the children fled in all directions, but Clark found that although these children ran, their hands were not idle, and they almost moved most of the orange juice in.

The hippies rushed to the nearest child quickly, and Clark immediately rushed over to stop them, but he didn't expect that their target was not the child, but the small can of orange juice in the child's hand.

The tall man rushed over and snatched the orange juice away. The child widened his eyes and tried to reach out to grab it, but was pulled by his companion. The two of them went into the house together and blocked the door tightly.

The hippie's accomplice immediately rushed up and knocked on the door, shouting while knocking: "Open the door, open the door, give us the damn juice, open the door quickly, you dead kids, I will blow your heads off with a shotgun."

Clark paused because he was thinking about a question. These kids are selling drugs, and these hippies are stopping them from selling drugs?

Don't worry about whether the uninvited guests who suddenly arrived want to steal the things for themselves, but it seems that they don't approve of these kids selling juice, maybe this can be used.

So Clark didn't rush to the group of people at the first time, but turned around and flew to the roof, looking down at the scene below.

Clark knew very well that these children were only weak compared to him, but there were not many people in the world who were as strong as him. In general, these children had a level of strength that was obviously beyond their age, which could be seen from the development of their muscles and tendons.

Sure enough, a hippie came to the window and wanted to see what was going on in the house, but a fire stick directly stabbed into his eye socket. The hippie covered his eyes and screamed, and fell to the ground.

Others were not to be outdone, smashing windows and banging doors. Clark heard the screams of the children in the room, so he hurriedly flew in from the back window.

"Don't be afraid, kids, I'll help you block the door." Clark lifted the heavy sofa with one hand and threw it to the door, kicked the sofa against the door, and then pushed the sideboard against the sofa.

The children were all stunned by his strength. An older boy waved his arm and shouted, "Quick! One team, get the guns! One team, seal the windows! Don't let the bastards from the Clown Gang in!"

The children responded and left. Their small figures shuttled through the rooms of the welfare home like flexible barracudas. They skillfully took wooden boards and nails and methodically sealed the windows from the inside while the other side violently smashed and smashed.

Several girls from another team filled a kettle with water and put it on the fireplace to boil. Others found the right opportunity to take a basin and pour boiling water from the second floor. Not long after, people and horses were thrown down outside.

Clark had been pushing against the main door of the welfare home building. After the hippie boss and his men who had been hitting the main door found that the other side was an unshakable copper wall, they changed their strategy and began to dismantle the door.

It must be said that they must have done a lot of things like sneaking in and picking the locks. The two heavy solid wood doors were removed from the latches in a short while.

The moment the door fell, they saw Superman's handsome and serious face like a classical sculpture.

Bang, bang, bang.

Clark clapped his hands after retracting his fist, and walked directly to the fallen door. He picked up one side of the door panel with one hand, and after putting it on the door, he exerted force on both sides with both hands. With a bang, the door panel was directly embedded in the door frame.

Then he pushed on the left and the right, and with a click, the door was squeezed back to its original position, tightly closed and airtight.

After the group of weirdos outside the door left in disgrace, the kids immediately surrounded him. They all stared at Clark with wide eyes, with no malice in their eyes, only full of surprise.

"My God, you are so strong. How did you train your muscles? Can you teach me?"

"Did you see that? I bet that bastard's nose must have been shattered by that punch he just threw."

"Huh! Ha! So cool."

The boys kept imitating famous boxing postures, shaking their hands back and forth, and rubbing their noses from time to time, as if they would definitely be boxing champions if they had such a strong physique.

"Okay, okay, kids." Clark gathered the kids around with his big hands and said, "I can see that you are not the bad kids who want to hurt people. Since you know that this drink contains a lot of hallucinogenic drugs, why do you still sell it?"

"You want to say, you are willing to believe that we are not drug dealers?" The leading boy crossed his arms and accurately summarized Clark's meaning and said, "But I want to tell you an unfortunate fact. We didn't sell drugs before, not because we are kind, but because it was not our turn."

"First of all, we are not children from the slums of Gotham. Most of them are orphans who lost their parents due to accidents in the middle-class streets next to us. We don't have any business in the slums, otherwise we wouldn't stay in Ford. "Then they are waiting for the rich to adopt them in the Liyuan."

"Secondly, even if they are children from the slums, they don't get to do drug trafficking on ordinary days. They are lucky to do some errands. They are a group of brainless idiots who don't understand the importance of unity at all."

"What's going on?" Clark half-knelt down, pressed the boy's shoulder and said, "Can you tell me? Who gave you these juices?"

"It became like this purely because of lack of manpower." The boy shrugged and said, "Someone hopes that this drink can spread in the city as quickly as possible, so they found us."

Clark turned his head and looked at the sewer outside the window. He thought that he would always go there to explore, so there was no need to use the precious opportunity to ask questions here.

So he turned to look at the little boy and asked, "Who attacked you? Why did they attack you?"

"Oh, they were a bunch of bastards from the Clown Gang. I heard from the people in the welfare home next door that they were attacked by them during the day. I was wondering if they would come to find us later. Sure enough, they came."

"As for why they attacked us, we don't know, but you just saw that they seemed particularly dissatisfied with us taking away the juice."

"They must be a group of hopeless drug addicts!" A girl leaned over and interrupted, "They must be unable to afford the drugs, so they want to come and bully us. Wishful thinking!"

"You shouldn't drink this juice?"

When Clark asked this question, the other children looked at him with a retard's eyes, and the leading little boy The boy snapped his fingers, pointed his thumb at Clark and said, "Look, I told you he's a cosmopolitan."

"Listen, big guy, the main ingredient of the hallucinogen here is methylenedioxymethamphetamine, which is different from marijuana, opium and the like. It's a powerful chemical hallucinogen. Even if you take a sip, you'll have to fight the trash can outside the door for three hundred rounds."

"Any neurological preparation must be taken according to weight. If you've been to the hospital for anesthesia, you know that too much of this stuff can be fatal. We're just looking for death if we drink it."

The boy's professional terms stunned Clark. He only knew an abbreviation at most, and he was a little confused about the difference between MDMA and MDA, but the other party could actually recite the full name accurately.

What is this? Is passion the best teacher?

"You think we know this thing is so powerful, and we still sell it to others, which must be killing people, but you don't understand at all. The life safety maintenance standard of this thing will work in any city in the world, except Gotham."

Clark stared at the little boy blankly. Is this level of language logic really what a child who looks no more than 10 years old should have? His wording sounds like the kind of official spokesperson who attends a press conference after a government official makes a mistake, and he must have worked for at least 30 years and wiped the ass for more than 20 mayors.

What life safety maintenance standard? Isn't it just that Gotham people have strong drug resistance?

Clark's eyes fell on the boxes of orange juice at the feet of the children again.

Judging from the degree of his excitement just now, if someone did such a bag, it would be difficult to analyze his physical condition from the perspective of drug resistance, and I'm afraid it would have to be analyzed from the perspective of genetics and biological evolution.

Before, Clark felt that the mental conditions of the Gotham people he had met along the way were all outrageous.

But if they each stole at least one pack of orange juice, but only stole the fourth wheel of a tricycle, urinals in public restrooms, switch panels for tamping machines, and alligators from nowhere, then it would be a truly simple Gotham City.

Just as he thought of this, he heard a bang outside the door. The moment Clark turned his head, the door collapsed, and a giant hippopotamus walked in proudly on the door panel.

And the figure riding on the hippopotamus against the light had two ponytails of different colors and a crazy smile, and a huge wooden hammer on his shoulder.