NOVEL NEXT Chapter 294 : No one in Hell's Kitchen is a coward
Today, this spectacular scene was destined to become an eternal memory, engraved deeply in everyone's hearts. Whether it was the citizens of the Manhattan , who clearly witnessed alien warships pouring out of a black hole thousands of meters above the city, or audiences around the world who happened to turn on their TVs or computers—no one would soon forget this shocking sight.
The entire Manhattan seemed to be shrouded in an invisible fear.
Thousands of people stood on the streets, looking upward with eyes wide in surprise and dread. Those alien warships resembled giant steel beasts, emerging relentlessly from the black hole, as if heralding some unknown and terrible fate.
Even in normally bustling neighborhoods like Hell's Kitchen, people were stunned by the spectacle.
Though many had already heard the news from Alex Ray, seeing it with their own eyes still drew gasps and murmurs.
"Damn it! These aliens sure don't skimp on their toys!" The Punisher stood on the street, his face etched with shock.
Somewhere along the way, the cigarette butt had fallen from his hand, but his gaze remained fixed on the alien vessels overhead.
The New York was in chaos. The alien warships hadn't yet made a move; they hovered ominously in the sky, but their mere presence plunged the city into panic.
Speculations ran wild about their purpose, but no one doubted this was a bad omen.
The wealthy residents originally living in Brooklyn had also gone into a frenzy.
They had thought moving away from Manhattan would keep them safe, but now it seemed their decision was too rash.
They ordered their security teams to evacuate the city immediately, and some even attempted to flee by private plane.
However, when they saw those civilian planes shot down effortlessly by alien fire, their hope was crushed.
They realized no means of transportation could save them now.
Helpless, they watched the alien warships grow closer, and fear gripped them tighter by the second.
Traffic jams clogged every road, and it was too late to escape.
They could only stand and helplessly watch the alien ships approach.
At this moment, regret gnawed at them for their earlier apathy, for their reckless indulgences.
But they didn't give up hope.
They reasoned they didn't need to escape far—just faster than others.
At this point, social order had completely broken down.
Pierce, stationed at S.H.I.E.L.D., was bombarded with calls.
"Okay, okay, no problem! We've secured the wealthy businessmen—transferred them to safe locations. We're ready to fight these damn aliens. Protecting Earth is S.H.I.E.L.D.'s responsibility! The Illuminati is standing by to engage!" he said, frustration and determination mixing in his voice.
After hanging up, Pierce suppressed his excitement and ordered Reed, already donned in combat gear, "The Illuminati needs to prepare for battle."
"Always ready," Reed said, his eyes blazing with ambition.
If he led the Illuminati to repel this alien threat, the world would worship them—and as the Illuminati's founder, he'd receive the acclaim he craved.
Though the mission was daunting, Reed embraced the challenge.
The bigger the storm, the bigger the catch.
Whether for himself or for the innocent people of the Manhattan , he would give everything.
Kadoya stood apart, nonchalant.
He didn't understand why these people acted so seriously, ready to sacrifice everything.
Alien invasions were nothing compared to the monster invasions he had faced in his world.
"I hope there's a worthy opponent this time; otherwise, I'll be bored," Tsukasa mused as he stood, ready to leave.
In a dark corner of Hell's Kitchen, inside a shabby motel with dim lighting barely piercing the gloom, a solitary figure sat before an old TV.
It was the fallen hero with a broken arm—Steve Rogers, former Captain America.
No one knew that America's idol was now living in such squalor.
Steve's face was pale, as if swallowed by an abyss of despair.
Stubble covered his cheeks, and his hair was disheveled, showing how long he'd been in decline.
In his hand was a glass of ice-cold beer, the tool he used to numb himself since early morning.
The TV broadcast the earth-shattering news—alien invasion.
That terrifying scene sparked a flicker of life in Steve's otherwise lifeless eyes.
He stood suddenly, his body seeming infused with fresh energy, but then he glanced down at his empty left arm, and the enthusiasm was quenched like a splash of cold water.
Steve smiled bitterly, shaking his head.
"Yes, I lost my shield long ago, and now my arm is broken. I'm just an antique from a bygone era. I can no longer protect the world with the bravery I once had."
A new era had arrived, and no vessel could carry an old man like him forward.
Captain America was done.
The duty to protect the world must be handed to new heroes like Alex Ray.
Though he tried to convince himself to accept this harsh truth, the light in his eyes betrayed his lingering hope and longing.
He wanted to fight again, to stand on the battlefield, to defend Earth against alien invaders with every ounce of his strength.
Just then, three figures entered the motel—the familiar presence of Natasha Romanoff, Hawkeye, and Dr. Bruce Banner.
"We need you, Steve. People need Captain America!" Natasha said firmly, clad in her tight suit.
Hawkeye remained silent, watching Steve intently.
"Don't look at me like that. They just told me they needed you," Banner said with a shrug. As a former Avenger and Hell's Kitchen ally, finding Steve wasn't hard.
Steve looked down at his broken arm, silent, as if questioning what he could do now.
Banner didn't say another word.
From somewhere, he produced a shield and tossed it toward Steve, then threw a mysterious "magic bean."
"Before I came, Alex Ray asked me to tell you this—take up your shield and meet the enemy. No one in Hell's Kitchen is a coward. Don't let me down."
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Bonus Chapter - 150 Power Stones
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