One big and one small walked down the streets of Hell's Kitchen, and it was still daytime until nothing too difficult to see happened, so Bourkeso was quite happy.

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

Bourkeso looked at the lively scene in front of him and was a little puzzled.

Police cars could be seen slowly driving through the streets, but the thugs on both sides of the street acted as if they didn't see them.

As for the elderly people, they greeted the police officers in the car. If he hadn't seen the money in the car, Bourkeso believed that they were in harmony.

"yes, all the time."

Jill looked a little heavy on the subject.

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

"If this were in the shelter, the bastards on the street would all have to break their legs and hang on their stakes!"

Bourkeso's voice rang out, attracting the attention of most of the people on the street.

Hearing the barbarian's undisguised discontent, the thugs seemed intent on doing something to preserve their pathetic pride.

"Old man, what kind of online game are you still playing! I told you that thing wasn't for us old guys! ”

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

The old man in the barber shop that I met a few days ago appeared not far away and waved to Bourkeso, with a little eagerness in his eyes.

Bourkeso understood that the old man was trying to save him from trouble, and that it was all out of good intentions.

So I just showed a little disdain to those thugs in my heart and walked towards the old fellow with Jill in tow, anyway, no amount of dust would make Bourkeso disgusted at best, and it would not hurt him at all.

"I said man, how are you doing?"

Bourkeso reached out and patted the old fellow on the shoulder, looked into his eyes and said slowly.

"It's okay, last time I said I was going to give you a free haircut, now that I've seen it, let's come now."

Speaking of which, the old man was not actually thin, but no matter who stood in front of Bulkeso, who was more than two meters tall, he did not look so strong.

Bourkeso's body is the product of thousands of tempers from the battlefield, strong muscles and moderate fat, making his body look extraordinarily burly.

But it doesn't have that sharp sense of striking lines.

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

It is important to know that fat protects the body far more than muscle.

Of course, professions like warrior monks and witchers are looking for the ultimate in dodging and flexibility.

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

But even the weakest spellcaster class among professionals, whether it's a witch doctor or a mage, their bodies are far beyond the ordinary.

Except for the necromancer Bourkesso, who worked with corpses all day long, he hadn't seen much, and although those guys were fighting for hope and justice all the same, their methods were a little more terrifying.

At every turn, a large number of corpses exploded, and ghosts flew, which was really a bit unsightly.

"Who is this little guy? Your grandchildren? ”

The old black man looked at Bourkeso with Gil and was a little curious.

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

It's like that tights pervert who has been active in Hell's Kitchen.

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

The presence of that guy made the gang not at all restless, and they made all kinds of explosions at every turn.

"Ah, of course you can think so."

Bourkeso patted Gil on the head and said with a smile:

"I don't need to take care of my hair, but this little guy needs a spirited hairstyle to make him cheerful."

While talking, Bourkeso took the child into the barber shop he had seen a few days ago, and the space inside was not large, only two chairs for haircuts.

And it looks like it's been a few years.

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

Bourkeso 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 I didn't introduce myself, my name is Zach, Zach Strand."

As he spoke, Old Zach pointed to Luke Cage, who was looking at Bourkeso, and was about to make an introduction.

"I remember him, his name is Luke."

Bourkeso pinned Jill to the barber's chair.

"Then I'll leave it to you, old Zach, to give this kid the most spiritual haircut!"

Bourkeso laughed out loud as he spoke.

Luke Cage on one side seemed to want to say something, but chose to shut up.

"Who doesn't know that my old Zach's barbershop is the best in the neighborhood, leave it to me."

As he spoke, old Zach walked over with a fader.

……

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

Jill looked at Bourkeso with a layer of short blond hair, as if he wanted to see a hint of guilt in Bourkeso's eyes, but it was clear that he had failed.

After all, for Bourqueso, that long hair is because he is too lazy to take care of his hair, and for him, as long as it doesn't affect the battle, then 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.

Admittedly, Zach Sr. is the best barbershop in the neighborhood, as he said, and even counting the surrounding neighborhoods is no problem.

But neither Bourkeso nor Jill noticed that only black people would come to Old Zach to get a haircut, so none of his hairstyles were suitable for Jill, a child with blond hair.

"Alright, Luke, you can say anything, don't cower after us."

Bourkeso turned to look at Luke Cage, who was wearing a cheap shirt.

He had some affection for this natural warrior, so he didn't mind taking the time to hear what was going on with him.

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

Luke Cage said this with an embarrassed look on his face.

He was a man of no other, born with immense strength and invulnerability, and if it weren't for his extraordinary sense of justice, he might have been a guest of honor at the Golden Side.

After all, in his opinion, the bullseye, known as the number one killer, had no way to deal with him.

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

In fact, he was still overconfident.

Although he only wanted to teach Hitt a lesson that night and did not show his real skills, how good could a black man who had no chance to receive combat training be with the experience of melee on the streets?

"This place is dangerous?"

Bourkeso was a little curious, he hadn't settled in New York for long, at most he felt that this place was extremely chaotic, and it was difficult for a strong man to understand the danger of this place in more detail.

"yes, gang mingling, and that tights pervert with two D's stacked on his chest."

Two D's?

Brother Hero?