In the early morning of New York, a ray of light shone through the gap in the curtains, and Schiller, who was still asleep, was woken up by the voice of the symbiote.

"I'm so hungry, I'm so hungry, I want to eat my brain...... Eat one brain, eat two brains, eat three brains......"

Schiller reluctantly sat up from the bed and said, "Are you still hungry?" ”

The symbiote ignored him, just humming and chirping alone, Schiller got up to wash, and the symbiote asked, "Aren't they coming?" ”

"Who?"

"The brains."

Co-authoring superheroes is a brain in your eyes?

But if you have to say that, there's no problem, after all, there aren't many superheroes with brains, and most of them have gathered here.

"I'm so hungry, I'm so hungry, I'm so hungry, I want to eat that blue-eyed brain first, and save the brown-eyed one for the next day......"

Schiller discovers that the symbiote does seem to be hungry, and he constantly communicates a feeling of hunger to Schiller's mind through his brainwaves, making Schiller a little hungry as well.

He walked to the kitchen first, opened the refrigerator door, and took some chocolate out to eat, but the symbiote didn't stop screaming hungry.

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What puzzled Schiller was that he spent a lot of time in DC this time, and as a result, he was almost delirious on the night he met with the godfather.

Schiller is not a person who sleeps a lot, and when he usually works, he relies on coffee to refresh himself, and he can sleep only four hours a day, which can last for a week, and he does not feel sleepy.

But the day before he came to Marvel, he was tired and sleepy just because he had not slept with Gordon for a day, which reminded Schiller of his ability to travel between two worlds, where did this ability come from? What are the limitations?

After thinking about it for a while, Schiller realized that he couldn't get an answer from the existing clues, so he planned to solve the symbiote's hunger first.

The symbiote wants to eat brains, Schiller doesn't actually mind finding a few criminals' brains in Hell's Kitchen to eat, he's not Batman, he doesn't follow the law of not killing, anyway, the hellish place of Hell's Kitchen, although it's not as good as Gotham, but you can find a few vicious gangsters.

"Would you bite off a person's head?"

"Do you want me to do that?"

"No, of course not, you have to know, there is etiquette in dining, we can't be so bloody, that's too uncivilized, you can just get into their heads and eat their brains, but don't make it bloody ......"

"Okay, that's fine......"

He really wanted to bite his head off in one bite!

Schiller thought that all symbiotes had an ancestor, so they were all strikingly similar in some ways.

Schiller got dressed and went out, intending to wander around Hell's Kitchen to see if he could meet a few unlucky people who robbed.

Although Hell's Kitchen is not as brilliant and simple as Gotham, it is not bad.

As soon as Schiller walked to the convenience store around the corner, he saw a man in a black down jacket with his hands in his pockets walking in, telepathically could vaguely feel his current emotions, Schiller stared at him on the other side of the street, and sure enough, he took out a pistol from his pocket and pointed it at the boss behind the counter.

As soon as Schiller tried to walk over, he saw the shopkeeper take out a larger gun from under the counter and point it at the robber, who raised his hands and slowly retreated, and ran out of the store with a puff of smoke.

Well, it seems that his luck was not very good, the first robber he met was a stupid thief, and he was a novice, robbing in Hell's Kitchen, and he dared to take only a pistol, which is strange if he was not beaten into a sieve.

Schiller continued on, crossing a small bridge in the gutter and passing through the back of an old clothing store.

Hell's Kitchen is a place that bears some resemblance to Gotham, and while they're chaotic, evil, and full of criminals, they also have a fascinating vibrancy and vitality.

Not far from the Schiller Clinic, there is the famous graffiti street, where all the buildings are colorful, the structure of the houses seems to be stacked with various colored containers, the alleys are narrow and small, the various storefronts are full of retro style from the 30s of the last century, and even the stalls selling hot dogs, the hot dog cars are all shacks made of tin sheets, and the bodies are painted with all kinds of exaggerated colorful graffiti.

I have to say that this colorful style appears in such a slum, which seems ridiculous when you think about it, but it looks very harmonious, and it is much more sunny and vibrant here than Gotham.

If there are too many people in the city of Gotham who are engulfed in evil and sin, and there are too many souls who struggle to survive by crime, then Hell's Kitchen, in addition to criminals, there are also many rebels who do not want to be bound by the world and actively flee from the orderly society, they live freely and happily here, bringing a unique vitality here.

There was a "bang" on the iron plate, the hot dog turned over, the young man in the orange and red apron with brown skin and blue eyes, he raised the shovel in his hand, then turned his head, quickly scooped up the potato wedges, and said briskly in a Mexican accent: "Would you like some of my special peppers?" Guaranteed to keep you awake all day! No charge! ”

"You're from Mexico?" Schiller asked, standing in front of a hot dog stand.

"You wouldn't believe me when I say I'm a native American, but that's just the way it is, my mom smuggled me here, and we crossed the border when I was very young."

The Mexican guy's tone has always been cheerful, with the same hot and spicy style as he does when he makes hot dogs.

"She now works in a garment factory on the east side of Manhattan, and I've loved cooking since I was a kid, and I inherited a good craft from her, and Gonzalez's hot dogs are definitely the best in Hell's Kitchen! You won't get such an authentic Mexican hot dog anywhere! ”

"But isn't the Mexican specialty Taco?"

"Come on, you Yankees aren't used to eating tortillas, I used to make some tacos, but no one bought them."

"Will you do it? Then get me one, when I traveled to Mexico before, my favorite thing was the tacos and avocado soup. ”

Gonzalez snapped his fingers and smiled warmly, "You're so classy, Gonzalez's tacos are the best in Hell's Kitchen!" ”

As he spoke, he began to prepare something to make tacos, and several children came running over with soccer balls, smelling the scent, and gathered around the hot dog stand, Gonzalez waved his hand and said, "There are no nachos now, you can come back later." ”

A few children craned their necks to look at it, and found that there really was nothing they wanted to eat, so they kicked the ball and ran away, Gonzalez said while flipping through the tortillas: "These little devils come to me every day and ask me for corn flakes to eat, and they can eat that big bucket of corn flakes in a few minutes, but speaking of which, I am the same, I always feel that I can't eat enough when I was a child......

"Aren't they really hungry?"

"Of course not, the black kid in the lead, his father is a freight driver in Hell's Kitchen, and there is a little left on the truck, which is enough for the whole family to eat, and the parents of the rest of the children also have serious jobs, so it is no problem to be fed."

"The slums in New York are messy, but they're much better than those in Mexico, and most of the people here have enough to eat."

Soon the hot dog, taco, and soup were ready, and Gonzalez loaded everything with his hands and feet, acting like a magnificent acrobatic, and handed it to Schiller, who paid the money and left more tips, Gonzalez was so happy that he tapped the table with a shovel and said, "You're a friend of the Gonzalez family, I'll give you a discount next time!" ”

Schiller waved at him, and after leaving, he continued down the graffiti street.

In fact, there is not much criminal activity in Hell's Kitchen during the day, the sun shines on the oddly shaped buildings, bringing better light and shadow than the neat buildings on the streets of New York, the mess of power lines stretching overhead into the distance, the narrow alleys are stacked with fancy motorcycles and painful cars, and the laughter and screams of children can be heard in the distance.

Schiller found that, like Gotham, it was chaotic, but it also had its own unique vitality.

If there are many people in Gotham who have no choice, then many people in Hell's Kitchen are not abandoned by society, but by the order of society.

Similarly, the gang hierarchy here is not as strict as in Gotham, if it is in Gotham, the person who just rushed into the convenience store and wanted to rob it, the boss will ask him which gang he belongs to, which street his gang belongs to, who his immediate boss is, whether he wants to go to war, and if it is not, it may cause a small gang fire.

But Hell's Kitchen is different, the boss here doesn't care which gangster you are, if you dare to rob, you have to be prepared to take a shuttle, no matter who you are, they will pick up a gun and defend their property to the death.

In a way, the people here are more rustic, don't look at the Mexican hot dog guy's warm and attentive service, Schiller saw two big guns in the back of his hot dog car, if any blind gangster dares to come and rob him, Gonzalez will definitely let them see the enthusiasm from Mexico.

But equally, Gonzalez was happy to pay protection money to the gangsters on the street, and the gangsters liked to come to him for breakfast, and he even gave them discounts.

There are not as many tragic and painful stories as Gotham, and most people are begging for a living on the road to freedom, living as they please, and indulging in what they want, just like the rock music that often plays on American road movies, revealing a unique sense of humor.

If Satan enters Gotham, he will be stripped of a few layers of skin by the layers of orderly gangsters, and then asked by the godfather to "talk", and maybe be beaten by some tight-clad weirdo, and then sent to a mental hospital by the police on his head, and never want to leave without paying.

But in Hell's Kitchen, if Satan comes here, the people here will pick up pots and pans and rush to them, chop Satan up and fry them, and even have a food competition of various ethnic groups.

Everyone here is a cook, and their cooking skills are not very good, but almost everyone can find joy in the process of cooking the devil.

This is Hell's Kitchen, a place of ultimate freedom, chaos, joy and wildness.

No one can be the emperor here, and no one is the savior here, not even the big gangsters.

All the people and their lives here represent the ultimate rebellion against the boring order of society, and here is the biggest graffiti on the map of New York, messy but so colorful that no one can erase it.