Chapter 424: Hell's Kitchen Tours, Inc.!
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to a truly one-of-a-kind journey! We are now standing at the centerpiece of every Hell's Kitchen Tours itinerary: the former home of Mr. Ethan Cross, Lord of Hell's Kitchen. This isn't just a building. It's a living testament to the history and legend of Hell's Kitchen. To the people who live here, it's practically holy ground, with countless stories and endless reverence behind it."
Our guide held up the little flag that leads us on our explorations. His eyes, fixed on the Lucky Dragon, burned with fervor and with a love and pride for this place he could hardly put into words. He was one of Hell's Kitchen's own, and he had witnessed its transformation with his own eyes.
Once, he'd drifted through the streets and alleys scraping by on selling information, living hand to mouth.
Now he wore the uniform of a Hell's Kitchen Tours, Inc. guide, with a steady job, health insurance, and even comfortable room and board from the company. None of that change would have happened without the far-reaching influence of one legendary figure: Mr. Ethan Cross.
He slowly told his own story: the days when hunger and hope tangled together, how he'd held on through the storms until fate finally turned.
With his wisdom and courage, Mr. Cross hadn't just reshaped Hell's Kitchen. He'd paved a bright road for countless people like the guide.
The guide's words overflowed with gratitude, a reverence from the bottom of his heart, the highest praise for Mr. Cross's selfless devotion.
The tourists were moved by his emotion, and gasps and exclamations broke out among them.
"So this is where the Lord of Hell's Kitchen lived!"
"Wait, the Lord of Hell's Kitchen lives here? It looks kind of run-down!"
"That just proves how down-to-earth he is! It's inspiring."
"It's gorgeous, it's got such an East Asian vibe! Quick, take my picture!"
"Can we go inside and eat?" A small voice cut through the chatter. It was a little boy, staring up at the guide with wide, hopeful eyes. The question struck a chord with everyone. They all wanted to know whether they could go in. This was the Lord of Hell's Kitchen's own restaurant, after all, and they wanted a taste of the place where Ethan Cross had grown up.
"I heard a lot of superheroes hang out here. Is that true?" The question drew everyone's attention back to the guide.
The tourists' eyes were full of hope and longing, as if they could already see the heroes they knew only from movies and comics gathered together in this mysterious place.
Facing their eager gazes, the guide smiled and nodded, his tone a mix of pride and mystery. "That's right. Plenty of superheroes come here. The ones you all know, like Tony Stark, Iron Man; the famous magician Gambit; our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man; and the now-famous Vongola Family, among many others. They all come here often."
"As for eating inside, I'm afraid that's not possible. Only Hell's Kitchen residents can dine here," the guide said regretfully.
That immediately set the tourists off.
"Why not? You're a business, aren't you? You're open to the public!"
"I bet you're just making it all up. Hell's Kitchen is as filthy as ever."
"Refund! Refund!"
"Yeah, we're the customers here, and the customer is always right!"
The tourists erupted into an uproar. A few foreign visitors even tried to force their way inside.
The commotion quickly caught the attention of the other Hell's Kitchen residents nearby.
Just then, far from looking flustered, the guide wore an air of calm confidence.
He slowly drew an elegant handgun from his pocket, his motion smooth and steady, and fired a shot into the air. The sharp crack instantly stunned everyone. Bang!
That one shot was like a thunderclap splitting the sky. The noisy scene fell instantly, completely silent.
"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to remind you once again: this is Hell's Kitchen. No violence of any kind is permitted here! If you want to use violence, that's fine too. But I can't guarantee you'll leave here alive." The guide's voice was gentle yet forceful, carrying an irresistible authority.
He lived in a Hell's Kitchen known for its decent, honest folk. Apparently he'd smiled at these tourists a little too much, and they'd taken him for a pushover.
The tourists, too, seemed to remember that this was no ordinary tourist attraction. This was Hell's Kitchen. They looked around and saw that the friendly old men and women running the street stalls a moment ago were now calmly polishing their weapons.
Once the tourists had quieted down, the guide's smile returned.
"Let me add one thing. In Hell's Kitchen, there's only one god, and that's Mr. Cross!"
"Don't worry, everyone. We've long since gone straight. Generally speaking, we won't resort to force as long as everyone cooperates. Mr. Cross is the one who taught the people of Hell's Kitchen that force doesn't solve everything. He's the one who showed us that people from Hell's Kitchen can leave hell behind!"
"Now, after hearing Mr. Cross's story, aren't you all deeply moved?!"
The guide spoke with passion.
The tourists gave no reaction at all. Looking at the old men and women around them holding weapons, they had no idea whether they were moved. All they knew was that they didn't dare move!
Every one of them regretted coming to Hell's Kitchen!
"Hurry and take your pictures! We still have to head to our next stop, Vongola Plaza!"
But the guide's words didn't seem to help. The tourists stood stock-still like blocks of wood.
"Everyone, look! It's Iron Man!" A sudden roar broke the brief silence, and the tourists' attention was instantly drawn to the sky.
Iron Man, in his signature red armor, was slowly descending not far away. His appearance was like a shot of adrenaline, and the tourists, so stiff a moment ago, went wild.
"It's really Iron Man! I'm seeing him with my own eyes!" Children shrieked with excitement, and the adults pulled out their phones to capture the rare moment.
Tony Stark smiled and waved to the crowd. His ease and confidence let everyone there feel a superhero's charisma.
While the tourists were still basking in the joy of seeing Iron Man, a gust of wind swept past, and Quicksilver appeared before them like a lightning bolt.
He wore his signature goggles, lithe and agile, and the tourists gasped again.
"It's Quicksilver!"
"The fastest superhero in the world!"
"Aaah!! It's Gambit!"
"Gambit, I love you!!!! I want to have your babies!"
"It's Spider-Man!!!! Spider-Man's here too, and there's two of him!"
Then came members of the X-Men, like Iceman, along with the Scarlet Witch, and the atmosphere hit its boiling point. The tourists began to speculate: "Why are so many superheroes gathering here? Is something big happening today?"
The question wasn't only on the tourists' minds. It struck the residents of Hell's Kitchen too.
They knew that whenever superheroes gathered in such numbers, something big was usually happening. And only one person could summon all these heroes: Mr. Cross, who had been missing for nearly half a year.
The residents of Hell's Kitchen began to whisper among themselves, hope glinting in their eyes. They all shared the same guess: Could Mr. Cross be back? The thought spread through the crowd like wildfire.
Just then, a deep, forceful voice came from behind the tourists: "What are you all doing at my front door?"
Everyone turned around. There stood a man with a cold, deep face. It was none other than Mr. Cross, the man they'd been longing to see!
"Aaaaaah! It's Mr. Cross!!!" The children screamed again, and the adults couldn't help crying out too.
They stared at the scene in disbelief, as if they were dreaming.
"Oh my God, I'm actually seeing Ethan Cross, the Lord of Hell's Kitchen!"
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