American Comics: Starting from the Invincible Young Hero

Chapter 72 Sentinel 'Mother Model'

"Stop! You can't kill me! I'm Congressman Henry Guy Ritchie!"

The icy gaze sent chills down one's spine, and Henry Guy Ritchie gritted his teeth and raised his hands.

"Dr. Trask, help me!"

He quickly looked at a security camera in the room for help.

Trask?

Bolivar Trask?

Upon hearing this familiar name, Russell immediately thought of Henry Guyridge, the inventor of the Sentinel. Guyridge was also an American, and they were probably partners.

"Eliminate the mutants! Eliminate the mutants!"

"Rescue Henry Guyridge".

Rumble!
A cold, mechanical voice rang out.

The roof was lifted, and a dozen giant sentinels looked down at the sand table like ants, their expressionless steel faces sending chills down one's spine, with a dozen hands raised and pointed into the room.

A terrifying chill swept through the room like a tidal wave.

The ice instantly sealed off the entire room, forming a giant block of ice.

But the dozen or so giant sentinels discovered that their target had disappeared into the frozen ice. Turning around, they saw that the cloaked figure had somehow already ascended into the sky.

The towering cement factory buildings stand not far from the Giants' Sentinel Factory.

Henry Guy Ritchie naturally wanted to build the most important facilities in the safest place, and what place could be safer than next to the cowardly President Ansel's palace?

When Russell flew over, he saw the giant sentinels waiting for orders in the sentinel factory.

However, they still came over to solve the problem of the mutants' ability-limiting collars first.

"I'll give you one chance. Can you turn them off?"

High in the air, Russell looked down at Henry Guy Ritchie, whom he was holding like a dead dog.

Henry Guy Ritchie shuddered as the indifferent voice drifted into his ears.

The image of Ansel's tragic death, after he had served his purpose, flashed through his mind.

The tone is exactly the same.

He knew perfectly well what Ansel's fate would be, yet he still asked the question so jokingly, because he was certain that he had no choice at all.

This mutant bastard!
"I...I can!"

Henry Guyridge broke out in a cold sweat, trembling with fear, and hurriedly waved his arms and shouted at the dozen or so giant sentinels.

"Bolivar, make them stop, all of them stop!"

Russell looked over.

The dozen or so sentries not only did not stop, but also raised their arms, and thick missiles were ejected from inside the aircraft and aimed at Russell.

Mutant detected—Eliminate!

Not only that, the roof of the Sentinel Factory was torn apart, and the remaining eighty-odd Sentinels flew up one after another. The robot called 'Mother Model', which resembled a Titan from Greek mythology, also stood up with a rumble, nearly a hundred meters tall, its eyes glowing red as it looked in his direction.

"It seems—you can't!"

Russell's cold gaze once more fell upon Henry Guy Ritchie in his hand, as if to pronounce his death sentence.

“No, Bolivar, you bastard, don’t forget who got you the White House investment, who helped you gain access to create the Sentinels…”

Henry Guyridge was shocked and cursed at the sentry with great resentment, trying to awaken his conscience.

He was just about to betray his benefactor, but he never expected to get his comeuppance so quickly. He was about to be betrayed by the now-powerful Bolivar.

“I’m so sorry, Congressman Guy Ritchie. I remember all the help you’ve given me. Without you, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to showcase my talents to the White House, and the Sentinel program wouldn’t have been able to go into production.”

Dozens of giant sentinels took flight, surrounding Russell and speaking in the same mechanical tone.

On the other side of the ocean, in a secret underground research base, a middle-aged man in a white lab coat, with a small mustache and a strong scholarly air, spoke calmly into the microphone. His glasses reflected a cold white light.

He was stating a fact.

"But please remember, compared to the survival of all mankind, you and I are insignificant."

If, a thousand years from now, humanity still wants to exist on this planet, mutants must be eradicated.

The importance of nearly a hundred sentinels, plus the mother model, to the cause of all mankind far exceeds that of you.

I had to make a choice.

"You...!" Henry Guyridge was about to curse a few more times when Russell's laser eye pierced through his skull, and he casually tossed the body aside, causing it to fall to the ground.

Boom boom boom!
The dozen or so Sentinel robots suddenly launched missiles, but before they could reach them, Russell's eyes swept across them. The missiles exploded in mid-air, and the fireballs, hundreds of meters in diameter, knocked down the dozen or so Sentinels instead.

"Mutants, your resistance is futile. Even if you conquer this country today, the Sentinels will eventually wipe you out without exception!"

Accompanied by Bolivar's indifferent voice.

"Clear, clear out mutant targets!"

Dozens of other sentries took flight, their electronic eyes simultaneously locking onto Russell, who was hovering in the air. Deadly red light flashed in their eyes as they fired lasers and charged toward Russell.

"What lousy technology! They can't even tell if someone is a mutant or not."

Russell chuckled coldly, leaving an afterimage in his wake as he dodged the laser fire and transformed into a streak of light, rushing into the group of sentries at a speed too fast for the naked eye to follow.

He punched a Sentinel in the head, and a circular shockwave exploded outwards. The steel head was dented and deformed, sparks flew, and black smoke billowed out.

The second Sentinel was pierced through by a fist powerful enough to sink an aircraft carrier. Russell's fist forcefully pierced through the body of a Sentinel, and terrifying lasers shot from his eyes, blasting towards the other Sentinels.

Russell was like a tiger among sheep. The Sentinel robots, which were over ten meters tall, could withstand high-yield air-to-ground missiles without being damaged, but they could not withstand a single attack from him and their bodies were damaged.

In the blink of an eye, several sentinel robots were scrapped, and more than a dozen sentinel robots suffered varying degrees of damage.

"Why does God favor mutants so much?"

"Main model, retreat immediately!"

On the other side of the ocean, with everything under the watchful eyes of the sentries and the off-the-charts enemy data transmitted by the electronic eyes, Bolivar's face darkened as he watched the white-cloaked figure attacking recklessly, and he quickly gave orders.

Twenty or thirty sentinels, like escort fighter jets, were escorting the mother robot, which was over a hundred meters tall, as it was about to leave.

"Want to go?"

With a single uppercut, Russell blasted the head off a Sentinel. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw the mother model about to fly away. Russell immediately rushed over, unleashing laser beams from his eyes to intercept it.

The so-called master mold is essentially a mobile sentinel production line.

He witnessed the entire process of the Sentinel robot's production and assembly. All it took was powering on the master mold, and it would sit there, its belly resembling an armory, continuously assembling and producing one Sentinel robot after another.

The reason there are only a hundred sentinels is because the power generation of the island nation of Kenosha is simply insufficient to allow the master mold to operate at full capacity!
boom!
Other sentries immediately intervened.

The deafening clang of metal colliding shook the heavens. The five Sentinels were twisted and deformed under Russell's terrifying impact at full power, their circuits short-circuited and burst into dazzling sparks, and they were directly knocked apart.

Under Bolivar's command, all the sentries suddenly had their shoulder armor ripped open, revealing a dense array of missile launch bays. In an instant, tens of thousands of miniature tracking missiles tore through the air, trailing thick smoke and flames, turning the entire sky a scorching crimson.

"Are you trying to block my view and cover up the retreat of the main model?"

Missiles rained down and exploded, the carpet bombing powerful enough to level a small town, but Russell felt as if it had just rained, without suffering any damage.

The smell of gunpowder was pungent, and thick smoke filled the view, almost covering half of the sky above Kenosha.

Russell waved the acrid smoke in front of his nose and chuckled softly.

(End of this chapter)