Martin Variety in American Comics.

Chapter 352: The transformation of chance and necessity (please subscribe, read, comment on monthly tickets)
"Sir, are we really going to fly to England?"

The crow flapped its wings hard to catch up with the hooves that were moving at full speed. Feeling the wind blowing from the real world, the whole bird was in a mess.

Hoof Shadow was arrogant to others, even to the messenger of Morpheus, he didn't say a word. When he saw the messy Crow, he even cast a disdainful look.

The crow had also lived for tens of thousands of years and did not respond to Hoofshadow's disdain. He didn't want to flap his wings anymore, so he landed on Martin's shoulder and repeated the question.

There was no strong wind in the sky around Martin, and he answered softly: "I have not yet developed the power of the blessing of death. If I rush into other worlds rashly, it is very likely to cause uncontrolled consequences."

"Also, have you seen the book that contains the magic of 'summoning death'?"

"What does this have to do with the action of rescuing the master?" The crow scratched his head in confusion.

I don’t know if it was because he had just been resurrected or because of the characteristics brought out from the dream, but he didn’t understand what Martin meant.

Martin didn't think the crow was slow to react, and explained carefully: "According to Death, Morpheus has only come to the real world a few times in tens of thousands of years. Why, exactly this time, was Morpheus captured by humans?"

"You mean, my master has encountered a conspiracy?"

The crow was very surprised. He had never thought of it this way before. "But, the master only came to the human world chasing the nightmare on a whim. No one could have predicted that the master would make such a decision."

"Maybe Morpheus made such a decision on the spur of the moment, but was Nightmare's escape a spur of the moment decision? Was the appearance of a spell that could summon death a coincidence?"

Martin only used two rhetorical questions to make the crow at a loss as to how to answer.

After losing his master Morpheus and coming to the human world, the two debuffs weighed on him, causing the crow to lose his divine power. Otherwise, he wouldn't have struggled to follow the hoof shadows.

"If you push chance to the extreme, it becomes a necessity. I don't want this to become big news, so let's keep a low profile."

Martin wasn't sure if there were any driving forces behind this, but it would never be a bad thing to conduct necessary investigations beforehand.

"Crow, try your best to recall what you saw in the manor. Even if you can only recall one clue, it will be helpful to me."

Crow did as he was told immediately. His eyes moved and showed one picture after another. Those were everything he had seen during the ten years he had been following the Burgess family.

Martin stretched out a hand to support his chin, memorizing each picture, and soon pieced together the structure of Burgess Manor in his mind.

As the crow's memory deepened, the Burgess family's collection of books was also turned over and released.

Roderick Burgess calls himself a wizard, but compared to Zatanna's family, he doesn't look like a wizard at all, but more like a traditional British aristocrat.

Among that seemingly massive collection of books, many are crappy aristocratic biographies, which record either the backward aristocratic means of power or how to sleep with women.

The few spell books that existed could be counted on one hand, and the magic and witchcraft they described were of a very low level, at least to Martin's taste.

He knew the spells and witchcraft by heart with just one glance.

As for the ritual used to summon death, it is actually not complicated. Except for the runes that must be written, everything else can be replaced.

This ceremony is not sophisticated, its only feature is that the threshold is low enough.

Not to mention a noble, even a street homeless person can draw it as long as he gets this picture.

"I can be 100% sure that there is something wrong with this ritual!"

After Martin saw the ritual used to summon death, he told the crows to stop showing the pictures.

"In order to ensure the success rate of the ritual, ancient wizards always liked to make the ritual very complicated, using this method to enhance their power."

"But this technique was originally simple, with a deliberately low barrier to entry, designed to make it easier for people to use. For a being like Death, this summoning power is nearly ineffective, but countless thoughts accumulated over thousands or even tens of thousands of years may have a significant impact."

This is a stupid method, so the creator of the ritual must not be a mortal, because mortals do not have such a long lifespan to wait for an unknown ending.

"To be honest, the creator of this ritual is boring and rubbish. If he had real talent, he would have just rushed to death."

Martin recalled the simple technique and said venomously, "From this perspective, those special beings are no better than an ordinary person."

"You'd better be careful with your words!"

No matter how slow-witted Crow was, after listening to Martin's analysis, he knew that there must be a presence beyond ordinary people behind this matter, and that was driving all of this.

He didn't know the other person's identity and didn't want to guess, but he knew that Martin couldn't be hurt.

Martin saw through Crow's worry at a glance and said calmly, "You don't need to worry about my safety. I'm here entirely because of Death's request. She's my friend, and I came here because she needed my help."

He knew about this matter, and the worst case scenario was that the mastermind was a member of the Endless Family.

When the plan is disrupted, the other party will jump directly from behind the scenes to the front.

By that time, Martin might have to confront members of the Endless Family directly.

The Endless Family members are not the same enemies that Martin has faced in the past.

Even with his intelligence and endless abilities, he rarely gets the results he wants when he encounters such conceptual existences in the process of traveling through countless worlds.

Despite this, Martin was not afraid, neither terrified nor excited. He just continued to plan how to rescue Morpheus from captivity as usual.

This matter is actually very simple. Martin just needs to rush in and destroy a corner of the sealing spell, and Morpheus will be able to walk out by himself.

Then Martin can take it easy and have a day off to spend time with his girlfriend.

Maybe in the eyes of his sister Death, Morpheus's way of doing things is very immature, but he is the master of dreams after all, not a real three-year-old child.

There is no need for Martin to answer any of his questions, let alone be a life mentor.

I don’t know how many decimal places Martin’s age will be compared to Murphys’s age. No matter how much he has experienced, it is impossible for him to be richer than the other.

Now that Death has asked Martin to comfort Morpheus, it is simply a reversal of the situation. The little devil is about to take charge.

The crow didn't know about Martin's rich psychological activities. He just saw that the young man Martin looked confident, so he started to move.

"It's all up to you, Mr. Martin!"

Martin hadn't expected this crow, which was useless when its ability failed, to be of any use at all.

It is still the same at this moment.

It took only an hour to cross the Atlantic Ocean and begin approaching British airspace and territory.

In order to avoid being misidentified by the British radar, they sent out a bunch of planes to bite their tails.

Martin simply stretched out his right hand and pointed in the air. The originally invisible light was cut off, turned into dots, and then disappeared.

The first ability of the Death Blessing is to be able to observe true death, whether it is a living being or an inanimate object, it cannot escape this observation. When Martin reaches out to cut off those fracture points, the living being will die and the object will turn into fragments.

At this moment, Martin stretched out his hand to cut off the light, and the light could not reflect any color, so he became invisible in the eyes of everyone.

They swaggered across the British international line without triggering any warnings, and no fully armed fighter jets took off from the ground.

"The sky is clear and everything is going well. Fortunately, no fighter planes caught up with us, otherwise we would be in trouble."

Martin shook his head and did not sigh about missing the big opportunity.

Besides, bombing planes is no longer popular nowadays. There are so many people performing famous scenes in the air that few people watch it anymore.

When Martin entered London, the Crow's mission was completely over.

At first he wanted to guide Martin, but the specific information had already been input into Tiying's brain and could be retrieved at any time, and he had also planned the best plan.

The crow is now no different from an ordinary crow. Not to mention fighting against magical creatures or wizards, even if facing ordinary people, he can only flee in panic.

"You just need to follow me closely. Don't run around until your master is out of trouble."

Martin didn't want to see the crow being shot up with a shotgun again.

This kind of thing happened once and it was enough. If it happened again and irritated Morpheus, God knows what would happen.

"What are you going to do?"

The crow folded its wings and stood obediently on Martin's shoulder. It made no other movements but spoke with its mouth.

"We should start with courtesy and then use force. We can first explain things to Roderick Burgess's remaining son. If he is stubborn and insists on resisting, then we will have to resort to violence."

As they were talking, the shadows of hooves had already reached the outskirts of London. The crow flapped its wings and flew out, gliding in the air for a while before landing on a branch. It turned its head and also observed the situation.

Martin did not fall down. He looked at the image sent back by the crow and compared it carefully with the one in his memory. He soon discovered that the area around the manor was not blank.

There were sentries in various conspicuous and inconspicuous places. They looked very professional, their weapons were not bad, and they did not relax during patrols, even in some blind spots, they did not miss them.

"It seems that the owner of this house knows what he has done, otherwise he would not have arranged such strict protection."

Martin stroked his chin and muttered the routes under his breath.

The guards did not pay attention to the crows flying overhead, and the visible and hidden sentries were quickly found and analyzed by Martin.

Even so, Martin had no intention of just barging in.

He still insisted on the plan of using courtesy before force, wanting to see how exciting this good show driven by fate would be.

"What role have Death and the others assigned to themselves in this drama of fate?"

Thinking of this, Martin let the hoof shadow slowly land on the ground, contacted Bruce, and got himself an identity as a member of the Wayne family.

……

Alex Burgess is now in his nineties.

His legs and feet are no longer very flexible, and his organs are failing one by one. He can only walk in a wheelchair, and a ventilator is necessary.

Almost every doctor who treated him came to the same conclusion: Mr. Alex Burgess had only a month to live.

But dozens or even hundreds of months passed quietly, and the elderly Alex would still open his eyes every morning and continue to live with this aging body.

"Sometimes I really wonder, is such a long life a punishment for me?"

Alex's voice was soft, but loud enough for Woody, the old man pushing the wheelchair, to hear clearly.

The old man named Woody was once a servant of the Burgess family and the only person in this cold manor who was willing to give warmth to young Alex.

So, naturally, these two lonely and bullied homosexuals got together and went through decades of ups and downs together.

"The sun is shining brightly today. I'll take you for a walk in the garden!"

Perhaps it was his experience as a worker in his youth that gave Woody a strong physique. Although he was the same age as her husband, his body was just aging normally and he did not suffer from any illness.

As an optimistic and cheerful person, she really disliked her husband's pessimistic remarks.

Anger is inevitable, but when the anger passes, compassion will fill your heart.

Old Roderick loved his eldest son too much and never took his youngest son seriously. He would beat or scold him at any time and treated him as a servant in daily life.

Today, old Roderick has been dead for decades, but Alex still cannot escape the shadow cast by his father.

"The sunny garden is not for an old man like me. I want to go to the basement!"

Alex made his request.

Woody was very dissatisfied, but he had no choice. He suppressed his emotions and said, "I really don't know what you are insisting on. We are both dying. Why can't you let that person go?

Even if he wants to take revenge and punish us, what can he do? We are already dying when we get here."

Alex was silent.

This old man who has experienced decades of ups and downs, when thinking about what I went through when I was young, he becomes that cowardly child and can't think of any effective solution except humble prayers.

And Woody ignored the advice and faced it all bravely for decades, but to little avail.

He pushed his wheelchair towards the basement, feeling the changes in brightness and darkness caused by the sunlight being blocked by the windows, and thought that today might be a different day.

The door leading to the basement was locked tightly, with fingerprint lock, combination lock and mechanical lock. Each of the three doors was a solid steel door several inches thick and was guarded by hydraulic rods.

The two old men took great pains to open the doors and slowly walked down the steps.

The basement is very empty, except for a very large cement platform with complex paintings on it, which have not changed in decades.

In the center of the ritual, there is a suspended glass ball filled with milky white smoke, making it impossible to see clearly what is inside.

Alex pressed a button, the smoke was removed, and the person inside was revealed.

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(End of this chapter)