I put monsters and super powers in America

A silver-gray Dodge Challenger muscle car, like a mad bull, rushed out of the crowd and slammed into the black crowd of Antifa members opposite at a speed of more than 100 kilometers per hour!

In the driver's seat was a young white man named James Alex Lincoln. His face, distorted by extreme anger and racist fanaticism, was filled with a madness that threatened to destroy everything. He pressed his foot firmly on the accelerator, mumbling "Purify... Purify..." repeatedly in an inarticulate voice.

"careful!"

"Quickly open!"

There were bursts of exclamations from the Antifa team.

However, the car was moving so fast that the reaction time left for them was almost zero.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Amidst the dull sound of impact, the twenty-year-old black youth, Jamal Washington, felt an irresistible force suddenly hitting him from behind, and he flew out in an instant like a torn sack being thrown out!

The world is spinning!

The world in his eyes turned into a blur, a chaotic mass of red and blue police lights and the frightened faces of the crowd. He could even hear the teeth-grinding "crack" of his own bones breaking.

Finally, he landed heavily on the cold, hard asphalt, tumbling several times before coming to rest. Intense pain surged over him like a tide, nearly swallowing his consciousness. Warm blood flowed from the wound on his forehead, blurring his vision.

"Why..." He lay on the ground, gasping for breath, his consciousness oscillating wildly on the edge of consciousness and coma. "We just... want fair treatment... Why is it always violence and harm in return?"

His father's face, always etched with fatigue and resignation, emerged before his eyes. His father, a diligent postal clerk whose lifelong work had been expunged without cause in a so-called "institutional reform" simply because of his skin color, was on the verge of a glorious retirement. He appealed everywhere, only to be met with resistance at every turn. Ultimately, he passed away in a state of prolonged depression and poverty.

His sister, who suffered from asthma, died during an acute asthma attack due to lack of funding and the clinic in the black community was no longer in existence.

"I don't want to repeat their fate! I don't want to be like them, to accept everything and eventually die in silence! I want to resist! I want to shout! I want those high and mighty bastards to hear our voices!"

It is with this belief that he takes to the streets again and again to join these protests full of danger and uncertainty.

However, reality once again dealt him the heaviest blow.

In his blurred vision, he saw the Dodge Challenger that knocked him down, after ramming through the crowd, and then after a beautiful drift, it sped away and disappeared at the end of the street corner. The surrounding police seemed to turn a blind eye to this.

Despair, like cold venom, injected into his heart.

"It's useless... Everything is useless..."

At the moment when his consciousness was about to sink completely into darkness, a powerful, violent force, yet full of the pulse of primitive life, suddenly awakened from the deepest part of his blood without any warning!

An indescribable pain, as if tearing his body apart from the inside out, instantly replaced the pain of being hit by the car!

"what--!!!"

He let out a beast-like roar that was not like a human voice!

He saw that his arms, which had been twisted and deformed by the collision, were beginning to expand and deform rapidly in a way that completely violated common sense of biology!

His skin was stretched to the point of crackling, and muscle fibers were savagely torn and reassembled, making a crackling sound! The most terrifying thing was that the ulna and radius of his forearm broke through the torn flesh at a speed visible to the naked eye!

The two bones that were originally covered in flesh and blood quickly stretched, sharpened, and hardened the moment they came into contact with the air. In the end, they formed a pair of terrifying bone blades that were half a meter long, shining with a sinister bone luster, and looked like mantis arm blades!

Jamal Washington struggled to get up from the ground. He lowered his head and stared blankly at his arms that had completely turned into deadly weapons, feeling the new power surging in his body that was full of desire for destruction.

He raised his head, and his eyes, which were originally filled with pain and despair, were now replaced by a cold light of revenge that burned like fire.

He slowly raised his new bone blades and aimed them at the "alt-right" crowd not far away who were still waving Confederate flags and singing racist songs.

The corners of his mouth stretched into a hideous smile that was a mixture of pain and ecstasy.

"Now...it's my turn."

Author's message

----

21 blades left to add more

71. Lincoln's Counterattack

The bright sunshine of Hawaii shines softly on the face of the main dragon through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows of the hotel suite.

He still maintained that lazy posture, half lying on the sofa.

Jingxue and Tifa were sitting together, taking turns playing Black Myth on their PSP; the Lord Dragon's eyes seemed to be constantly shifting between the beauty and the game, but his spirit had already passed through the system and crossed a distance of thousands of kilometers, coldly watching the increasingly intense street carnival in Charlottesville, Virginia.

"Well done."

When he "saw" the black youth named Jamal Washington, who, with the help of the [Bone Blade], got up from the ground and without hesitation chose to chase after the culprit who hit him with his car, the Lord Dragon nodded with satisfaction in his heart.

"He's a decent character. He'll take revenge when there's a vengeance, and he'll always have his culprit. Even though I was the one who 'catalyzed' it, at least he didn't let his anger get the better of him and turn him into a madman who kills innocent people."

The gift of [Hard Claws], borne from the cunning Simple Hand Dragon in Gaia's Dream, has been reduced to a purer and more deadly form: [Bone Blade]. This ability not only allows the recipient to freely extend from their forearm a half-meter-long blade composed of ultra-dense bone, sharp and strong enough to pierce all conventional alloy armor known to humanity, but more importantly, it also comes with a series of "passive buffs"—the recipient's strength, speed, and agility are comprehensively enhanced, and their body's self-healing ability is significantly increased.

Although her overall quality was far inferior to Tifa, who was created with three copies of [Tyrant's Shadow] and had eaten the giant scorpion's essence, it was more than enough to catch up with a pickup truck that was fleeing in panic on the city streets.

……

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! A bunch of damn niggers! A bunch of parasites who only know how to cause destruction!"

James Alex Lincoln was stepping on the accelerator with all his strength, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the street scene that was constantly receding in front of him, and he was cursing madly in an indistinct voice.

Cold sweat had already soaked through his cheap T-shirt, which had a Confederate flag printed on it. It stuck to his back, bringing waves of cold, sticky sensations. His hands were tightly gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles turning slightly white from excessive force. His palms were already soaked with sweat, wet and slippery, and he nearly let go of them several times.

He was scared to death.

He was afraid of the police, afraid of going to jail, and afraid that his life, which was already like a stinking ditch, would be completely ruined.

But stronger than fear is anger, resentment, and the long-accumulated, everything-destroying madness that comes from being betrayed by the whole world!

Why did he hit people with his car?

He himself can't explain it clearly.

Perhaps it was because just before the collision, he saw with his own eyes several "Antifa" members wearing black clothes and masks, waving baseball bats in their hands, blocking an elderly white man who was also wearing a red "MAGA" hat in the corner, and the sticks fell like raindrops.

The old man protected his head and screamed miserably and helplessly.

This picture, like the sharpest key, instantly opened the Pandora's box in his memory that was the most painful and the one he was most reluctant to look back on.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

That was three years ago, on an equally chaotic night.

At the time, he was still the owner of this modest neighborhood convenience store. He had used up all his military retirement benefits, Afghanistan special allowance, and savings to buy this "business" for himself, carrying all his beautiful fantasies about the future.

However, a sudden "zero-yuan shopping" trend ruined all of this.

A group of young people with their faces covered in black cloth, shouting slogans he couldn't understand, rushed into his shop like locusts. They smashed the windows, pushed over the shelves, and looted the goods that were supposed to be used for profit as if they were garbage.

He tried to resist, but was knocked to the ground by a group of black people. Then, countless feet stepped hard on his body and face.

He remembered watching through the cracked lens a young black man lift a case of beer high into the air and slam it against his brand-new cash register. The screen shattered, sparks flew. The young man turned and gave him a smile filled with contempt and glee.

The shop went bankrupt, and the insurance company refused to pay a penny, citing the "force majeure" of the riots. To repay the huge bank loan he took on when he bought the shop, his mother, who was already in poor health, had to work several odd jobs day and night, just like him.

Finally, one cold winter morning, due to long-term fatigue and despair, she jumped off the overpass across the highway in front of her home, leaving behind a pile of unpayable debts and a scribbled suicide note that read "I'm sorry, son, I can't hold on any longer."

From then on, his world was filled with gray.

He thought about starting over, going to college, learning a craft, and becoming a useful person to society.

But the reality is that he can't even afford the high tuition fees. In order to survive and repay the debt left by his mother, he has to go to the blood bank twice a week to sell blood, using his life in exchange for that meager income that can barely make ends meet.

But when he turned on the TV and the Internet, trying to find some comfort from this world, what did he see?

It is those hypocritical liberal media who are shouting "Black Lives Matter," calling for the rights of "oppressed" minorities, and demanding the withdrawal of prosecutions in one zero-dollar purchase case after another!

It was those Maka-style influencers, whom he considered his peers, who hurled insults at him online: "You're so miserable not because you don't work hard! It's because those damn immigrants took your job! It's because those idle black parasites are consuming the social welfare that should belong to you!"

He believed it.

He believed it with utmost conviction.

He blamed all his misfortunes on people whose skin color was different from his.

“It’s those lazy black guys! It’s those Antifa thugs who are condoned by the liberal media! It’s those illegal immigrants who keep pouring in! It’s them who are taking away our jobs! Destroying our communities! And tarnishing our great country!”

"Today, I just... did what every true American patriot should do!" James found the most sacred and legitimate reason for his actions in his heart.

Just as he was immersed in the tragic feeling of his own moving, ready to find a place to abandon the car and then disappear in the vast sea of ​​people -

"Boom!!"

A dull thud suddenly came from the roof of the car!

The entire car body sank suddenly, and the tires made a harsh friction sound due to the sudden increase in the huge weight, almost bursting!

"what?!"

James looked up in horror, but saw nothing through the front windshield.

However, the next second——

"laugh--!!!!"

A terrifying sound, as if an electric drill were drilling open a tin can, suddenly rang out!

The solid car roof was easily and unimpededly pierced and torn apart by two massive bone blades, gleaming with a sinister luster and resembling mantis blades! The sharp blades, with unstoppable momentum, plunged downwards, deeply into the leather passenger seat, leaving two terrifying gashes that stretched from front to back! Shattered metal and leather fragments flew everywhere, one of which even grazed James' cheek, leaving a faint trace of blood!

James' pupils shrank into two tiny needlepoints out of extreme fear. He felt as if all the blood in his body had frozen at that moment.

"The monster... is that black guy who was just... knocked away..."

He screamed, slammed on the brakes, and turned the steering wheel frantically!

The Dodge Challenger cut a sharp, desperate arc down the street, slamming heavily into a fire hydrant on the side of the road.

"boom!"

"Tear it apart——"

Before he could recover from the violent collision, the two ferocious bone blades on the roof suddenly pulled with force! With a sharp sound of metal tearing, the entire roof was completely blown away like a can being opened!

The bright sunlight mixed with the flying dust poured down, illuminating the pale face in the cab that was distorted by fear.

Immediately afterwards, a tall figure exuding an ominous aura jumped down from the roof of the car and landed steadily on the hood of the car.

It was Jamal Washington.

His arms, which had become deadly weapons, were now hanging naturally on both sides of his body. The two huge bone blades, flashing with a cold light, reflected a heart-pounding light under the sunlight.

"Now, it's my turn."

Jamal's voice was cold and hoarse, without any emotion. He walked step by step towards the severely deformed car door, and then stretched out his relatively intact hand without the bone blade.

"boom!"

With just a casual punch, he knocked the heavy car door inward, causing it to dent and deform. Then, he pulled James, who had already collapsed in fear, out of the driver's seat as if he were picking up a chicken.

He didn't use the bone blade.

He simply used his big hand, which was covered with calluses but full of strength, to tightly strangle James' throat and lifted him high into the air.

The feeling of suffocation came instantly. James' feet kicked weakly in the air, and his hands scratched the arm that was like a pair of iron clamps in vain. His face turned purple due to lack of oxygen.

"Tell me... why?" Jamal leaned closer to James. His eyes, once filled with pain and despair, were now filled with cold, burning anger. "What did we do wrong?! To make you hate us so much?! To treat us like this?!"

"We don't even know each other! I didn't even look at you! Why did you hit me with your car?! Because of the color of my skin?! Because I'm black?!"

"We just... want to survive! Live like human beings, with dignity! Is that wrong?!"

"Why... do you force us?!"

The shadow of death, like an icy tide, completely submerged James.

However, in this moment of despair on the verge of death, an even stronger flame, mixed with endless resentment and unwillingness, suddenly erupted from the deepest part of his soul!

"Why? You still have the nerve to ask me why?!"

"It's you who deserve to die! You're the parasites who only know how to rob, cause trouble, and suck the blood of us hard-working people!"

"My shop! My home! Everything I have! You've destroyed it all!"

"My mother...what did she do wrong?! She died just like that! All because of you beasts!"

"You're talking to me about dignity?! Then tell me! Where is my dignity?! You lazy, greedy niggers who only know how to buy things for free, when have you ever given us, the white people struggling at the bottom, a way to survive?!"

"I hate! I hate you! I hate this damn world! If... If I had the power... I would absolutely... absolutely kill all of you bastards! Not a single one would be spared!"

The extreme resentment and pure murderous intent seemed to have touched a switch existing in the dark at this moment.