Marvel's whitewashing cop, you want me to save the world?

Chapter 1 What is Hell's Kitchen?

Manhattan Police Department Precinct, New York.

White smoke rose from the tips of a dozen or so different cigarettes, swirling into a murky cloud around the dim yellow light bulb.

The office was filled with the smell of tobacco mixed with the sour smell of sweat, and occasionally a few wails could be heard from deep inside the guard cells.

The shouts pierced through the smoke and reached the ears of the officer behind the second row of desks near the door.

Li En rubbed his temples with his right hand and covered his nose with his left.

This smell is too strong.

Since graduating from university, no one has invited him to go to an internet cafe for an all-nighter, and he hasn't been exposed to secondhand smoke like this in a long time.

My head is buzzing right now, I can't remember anything, and I just feel dizzy.

"Hey, newbie."

A hand was waved in front of his eyes.

Li En raised her head.

A middle-aged man wearing a top hat stood in front of me, with a full beard and an impatient expression.

"Wake up. Even though the weather is bad today and I don't want to go out, I still have to do my patrol duties."

"Brock?"

The name just popped out of my mouth, quickly passing through my mind.

"Finally awake." Brock patted him on the shoulder, then turned and walked towards the police station entrance. "Hurry up and get ready, let's go patrol the streets."

Li En stood up, his body reacting before his mind, and followed Brock out the door.

I walked through the parking lot, opened the car door, and sat in the passenger seat.

The entire set of movements was fluid and graceful, as if he had done it hundreds of times.

The police car started and slowly glided into the streets of Manhattan.

The car was not going fast.

Block drove like he was taking a stroll in a park, slowly hugging the curb.

Li En turned her head and looked out the car window at the buildings that glided by one after another. She could understand all the English signs, road signs, and GG language without any difficulty.

The street sign reads "Manhattan".

Pedestrians of all kinds walked on the sidewalk.

It was only at this point that my mind truly cleared up.

crossed.

There were no trucks, no acts of heroism, and it wasn't even someone who choked to death while drinking water.

He was just an ordinary person who stayed home playing video games every day, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself in New York.

Li En's gaze shifted to the rearview mirror.

The mirror reflected a handsome face with black hair, sharp cheekbones and jawline, yet with a subtle hint of Eastern gentleness in his eyes and brows.

One-quarter Chinese mixed race.

The thought suddenly popped into my head.

He turned his gaze away and looked at the driver beside him.

Brock was holding the steering wheel with one hand and stuffing a donut into his mouth with the other.

He didn't wipe the icing off his stubble.

"What, you didn't have breakfast?" Brock glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Hmm, I haven't eaten yet."

Li En did feel hungry.

Not only was I hungry, but my neck was also very uncomfortable, with a suffocating feeling as if something was tightening around it.

The shirt collar and tie were tangled there, getting in the way every time I swallowed.

He reached out and loosened his tie knot, letting out a breath.

Brock rested one hand on the car window frame, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, speaking casually:

"Perfect timing. You've been with the Manhattan Police Department for three months now, and you've been doing alright during that time."

He paused, glancing at Li En out of the corner of his eye.

"Although I don't know why a genius like you, who is ranked first in the police academy, would come to this place, since you're here, you have to follow the rules."

"I understand, Brock."

Li En answered quickly.

He certainly understood the principle of "when in Rome, do as the Romans do."

Now that I've transmigrated into the identity of a police officer, I'll focus on being a good police officer for now.

Brock looked away.

He didn't have high hopes for his new partner.

The better a young person's grades are, the more fantasies they have. But once they actually step onto the concrete of this neighborhood, they'll know how painful it is when they fall.

Li En was the second partner he had mentored in a year. The first one had been transferred to an administrative position, and it was already a pleasant surprise that this one had managed to stay in the business for three months without any major problems.

It's about time to introduce him to the real Manhattan.

Tell him the real name of this neighborhood.

Brock opened his mouth, but before he could utter a sound, a white shadow exploded from the left front.

An Infiniti sped out from the side road, passing the police car so fast that its headlights left a trail of afterglow.

Brock jerked the steering wheel, the police car's tires screeching as they scraped the ground, the car swerving halfway before coming to a stop.

The Infiniti sped more than 30 meters, its front end slamming against the curb, and the entire car flipped 180 degrees.

The metal scraped against the ground with a screeching sound, sparks flew everywhere, and finally the chassis landed upside down in the middle of the street.

The tires were still spinning freely, and white smoke was billowing out of the exhaust pipe.

"Fuck!"

Brock slammed on the brakes, gripped the steering wheel with both hands, and stared straight ahead.

"Fuck!"

If he had been even a fraction of a second slower, the car would have crashed right into the driver's seat.

Li En had already pushed open the car door and rushed out.

Passersby stopped in their tracks.

Groups of two or three gathered around, some with their hands in their pockets, some holding up their phones to film videos, and two hooded boys biting hot dogs, pointing and laughing as they talked about something.

No one stepped forward.

No one opened the car door.

Li En rushed to the Infiniti, knelt on one knee, and peered into the driver's seat.

The airbags deployed, the driver's head was tilted to one side, and his face was covered in blood.

He reached into the car window, felt for the door latch from the inside, pulled it twice but couldn't budge it, so he simply pulled his hand back, put his arms through the window and grabbed the driver under his armpits, and dragged him out little by little.

Amidst the creaking and twisting of metal, Brock's furious roar echoed from afar.

"Rookie! Mind your own business! That car might explode!"

Li En didn't stop.

They pulled the person out of the deformed car door frame, dragged them to the sidewalk three steps away, and placed their hand on the injured person's neck.

There's still a pulse, it's still beating.

He turned to Brock and shouted, "Has the ambulance arrived?"

Only then did Brock stride over, his anger clearly visible on his face.

He thought the kid had learned to be tactful after three months, but today he's back to his old ways.

He walked over to Li En and glanced down at the face of the person on the ground.

His brows furrowed immediately.

A scorpion tattoo was visible on the side of the injured man's neck, with bluish-black ink smearing out from his collar and its tail curled up.

He recognized the mark.

This kid's file has been sitting in the system for years, with a long list of misdeeds including car theft, receiving stolen goods, and violent assault.

"Rookie, leave this to the patrol officers."

Brock glanced around, his gaze locking onto a uniformed Black police officer in the crowd, and pointed at him.

"You, come here!"

"I remember your name is Bright, right? I'll leave the scene to you; I have another case to handle."

"clear."

Bright walked over, his gaze first falling on Lee En, pausing for a complicated second, before looking at the injured person on the ground.

Upon seeing the scorpion tattoo, his brows furrowed.

Gang members.

The aftermath of such a car accident is incredibly complicated.

But he's a patrol officer, so traffic accidents are his responsibility.

Bright pressed the radio on his shoulder and said into the microphone, "There's been a car accident on West 48th Street. Send an ambulance."

The moment the word "ambulance" was uttered, the injured man on the ground opened his eyes wide.

He grabbed Li En's wrist with a sudden and forceful grip.

Li En looked down at him and smiled, "Don't worry, the ambulance will be here soon, you'll be fine."

The injured man clenched his fists tighter, his mouth open, only hissing sounds coming from his throat.

Li En felt a slight pain in her wrist, so she pried the hand open and repeated herself in a soothing tone:

"No need to thank me, I'm a police officer, it's just what I should do."

The injured man's eyes were bulging out of their sockets, veins were bulging on his temples, and his forehead was covered in cold sweat.

He cursed the policeman's ancestors for eighteen generations in his mind.

Fake!

Don't need an ambulance!

Fuck, I don't have the money to pay my medical bills!

Unfortunately, he couldn't say a word at that moment.

Li En didn't look at him again, stood up and said to Bright, "Then the scene is in your hands."

Bright heard those words and his expression became more complicated, but he eventually nodded.

Li En turned and walked back to the police car with a light step.

He felt that he had played the role of a police officer quite well, being professional, gentle, and responsible.

perfect.

Waiting for Brock's praise.

Brock started the engine, floored the gas pedal, and drove off into the street, his face turning icy cold, without uttering a single word.

Li En frowned.

That's not right.

Where did they mess up the performance?

When police officers encounter a car accident, they rush to rescue people. Isn't that their duty?

If an accident happened on the street in your past life, and a passing policeman stood by without moving, and someone took a picture and posted it online, he would be criticized and trending on social media for three days.

He did nothing wrong.

The police car drove quietly through two blocks.

Brock finally spoke, his voice cold and hard.

"Rookie, it seems you're not ready yet."

"Not ready?"

Li En was stunned for a moment.

That car accident must have changed Brock's perception of himself.

But no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't figure out what the problem was.

"Let's put the Hell's Kitchen introduction on hold for now," Brock said, turning the steering wheel. "Let's get back to the police station first."

Hell's Kitchen.

Li En's mind went blank for a moment.

The sign on the street just now clearly said Manhattan.

Manhattan, New York City.

Hell's Kitchen?

I've never heard of this district or this place.

and many more.

It sounds familiar.

He tried to grasp the thought, his fingertips almost touching it, but it slipped away.

The police car parked in the police station's parking lot.

Brock opened the car door, walked to the desk, put his feet up on the table, put his hat over his face, and fell asleep.

Li En sat back in his seat and lowered his head in thought.

The Hell's Kitchen recipe was prepared beforehand.

After my mind fully cleared, a lot of fragmented images began to surface.

He extracted all the key information in just a few minutes; this efficiency was honed through years of gaming.

You can either skip the dialogue or skim through it at double speed to grab the keywords.

He picked up a pen and wrote in Chinese on the white paper in front of him:

Name: Li En

Position: Manhattan Precinct Police Officer, New York City

Family: Parents and younger sister committed suicide; currently living alone.

Key Events: He enrolled in the police academy to investigate the reasons for his family member's suicide, graduated first in his class, and voluntarily chose to work at the Manhattan police station.

Cause of death: suicide

Li En squinted and tapped her fingers lightly on the table.

A moment later, he put the paper into the shredder and shredded it, then sat back down at the table.

The images in my mind faded after the key information was extracted, and soon disappeared completely.

A person who specifically applied to police academy to investigate the cause of his family's death and graduated first in his class.

Will he commit suicide?

impossible.

Unless there is an unforeseen event.

Li En suddenly looked up and glanced around.

Inside the office, the police officers were gathered in twos and threes.

Some people were leaning back in their chairs chatting and joking, while others were frowning and discussing the case while looking at a stack of documents.

Occasionally, groans of pain could be heard from the cell, indicating that the person was seriously injured.

The light bulb hanging from the ceiling was enveloped by more smoke rings, dimming the light by several degrees.

A chill ran up my spine from my tailbone to the back of my head.

The reason for the suicide must be found.

The original body chose suicide, and now he lives in this body. Will the power that made the original body unable to live let him go?

Absolutely not.

Li En took a deep breath and patted his forehead.

First, gather clues.

Desktop files and computer documents usually contain valuable information.

He was about to turn on his computer when a loud shout came from behind him.

"Four people come wash the floor at the entrance! You, you, and Li En, you all come too!"

Li En stood up, bewildered.

Cleaning the floor?

Why are they implementing the "three responsibilities" (sanitation, order, and safety) in front of the police station?

He followed several police officers to the door.

Two people, bound like rice dumplings, were lying on the steps.

With something stuffed in its mouth, its body curled up in a ball, it was writhing on the ground.

"Hurry up and lend a hand, we've met today's targets."

"Today's metrics?"

Li En's mind was full of questions, but his hands moved quickly. He followed the others, each carrying one of the two bundles, and carried them into the police station and threw them into the cell.

Another officer leaned over and lit a cigarette: "Who delivered this order today?"

"Ask them," said one of the officers who had helped carry the prisoner, pulling the smelly sock out of the prisoner's mouth. "Tell me, who arrested you?"

"That person was wearing a black headscarf, you couldn't see their face at all!" the prisoner shouted, immediately followed by a sob, "I'm innocent, officer! I didn't do anything!"

"Innocent?" The officer picked up a black cloth bag and waved it in front of him. "They've even prepared the evidence for you."

He turned and walked out of the cell, muttering, "Have any guys wearing black headscarves been hanging around here lately?"

"Who knows?" someone chimed in. "There's a spider hopping around on the rooftops in Queens next door. All the packages delivered there are tied up with spider silk, making them difficult to open."

"Who cares who they are? We're just responsible for locking people up and getting our commission."

"Hahaha, the police are just doing this, aren't they?"

Standing at the cell door, Li En heard these words and something exploded in his mind.

Queens spider.

Hell's Kitchen.

Police officers cleaning the floor.

This is a superhero world!

……