American comic: I, JoJo, am going to heaven!

Outside, Jon leaned against the doorframe, watching the agents board the vehicles one by one.

At that moment, Ward, who was about to get into the car, walked out of the sight of several agents.

"I apologize for Jessica's offense, Advisor Yovik."

Ward stood perfectly straight, his expression flawless, without a single fault.

Jon squinted. He thought that if this guy went to Hollywood, his acting skills would probably win him an Oscar.

Look at that upright and reliable expression, and the curve of his mouth, it looks like it was measured with a ruler.

"So...you're her supervisor?" Jon deliberately dragged out his words.

Ward glanced back at Jessica in the driver's seat, then turned back with a perfectly timed frown.

"Yes, I am her supervisor."

"Then you must have had a very hard time," Jon said, feigning concern.

"Yeah," Ward said with a helpless expression, "Sometimes... being too rigid in following the rules can actually limit an agent's development."

"But she's very talented." He changed the subject, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes. "She could at least reach the level of a level seven agent in the future."

"Lv.7?" Jon toyed with the redstone in his hand, a half-smile playing on his lips. "I remember you were only Lv.6?"

"That's why my assessment is more objective, Advisor Yovik."

Ward flashed a standard professional smile, but secretly thought to himself.

He'll just be a Level 7 Hydra agent.

At this time.

"Ward!" Jessica called out from the driver's seat, "Time to go!"

Upon hearing this, Ward immediately adopted a regretful expression and said:

"It seems we'll have to talk another day, Mr. Advisor."

As he spoke, he stretched out his hand.

Jon grasped the hand, and immediately felt the deliberate control of the other's strength.

Is it really necessary? Jon asked himself honestly. If he did this every day, he would have died of exhaustion long ago.

After thinking for a moment, Jon said:

Goodbye, Agent Ward.

Ward nodded solemnly, then strode away.

Seeing this, and recalling the relationship between Jessica and Ward, Jon sighed inwardly.

"It seems she's already a Hydra agent. What a pity, I was hoping to recruit her."

Jon already knew this when Ward admitted he was Jessica's caretaker.

After all, in the storyline, Garrett used the same method to recruit Wolverine into Hydra.

Although this method is inefficient, it is simple and very discreet, making it almost impossible to detect.

Similarly, the agents and supervisors have a close relationship, work well together, and their information transmission is secure enough.

Most importantly, this is completely in line with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s code of conduct for agents.

If anyone asks, just saying "regulatory personnel" will shut everyone up.

"No wonder even a cunning old fox like Fury didn't notice..."

However, the gains this time were not small.

Jon weighed the Aja redstone in his hand, pondering how to craft it into a portable ornament.

Necklaces are definitely the top choice for jewelry styles, firstly because they are convenient, secondly because they are inexpensive, and most importantly because they are inexpensive.

It's best to also bring a metal inner layer that can be opened and closed, so that you can rotate the outer shell by hand to open it when you need to expose it to sunlight.

With Platinum Star's faster-than-light speed, he could silently use redstone to refract lasers during battle, catching his opponents off guard.

This is practically a rippled version of the terrifying, piercing light of the void.

Without hesitation, Jon Snow dialed Blade's number.

As Whistler's longtime partner, forging is a piece of cake for Blade, there's no doubt about that.

The phone rang for a long time before it was answered.

"What's wrong?" Blade's voice was very cold, clearly still a little embarrassed.

"I need your help with something," Jon said.

"No help." Blade refused decisively.

He still remembered the time he was knocked down by Jon Snow with a single punch.

At that moment, Jon had just finished making his vow when he was knocked unconscious the next second. Didn't the Blade Master have any pride?

No matter how hard he spoke, he never pressed the hang-up button with his thumb.

Blade didn't really want to help, but he wanted to hear what other tricks this guy could come up with to fool him.

"Eric, we're friends, so I need your help," Jon said calmly.

He considered himself to know Blade quite well.

As friends who have fought side by side, there is no faster way to understand a person's character than in battle.

"Hmph." A cold laugh came from the receiver. "I don't have a friend who knocks me out right after I swore an oath."

"Now you have it." Jon showed no remorse.

Then he lowered his voice, "Listen, Eric, this is serious business."

Upon hearing this, the other end of the phone went silent.

A few seconds later, Blade bluntly uttered:

"Monfas Grocery Store, only available after that."

"Coming right away."

-----------------

Monfas Grocery Store is located in one of Brooklyn’s most liberal Black neighborhoods.

Here, driver's licenses are just decorations, and speed limit signs are street graffiti art.

In this neighborhood, as long as you don't cause any deaths, you're the wildest driver on the street.

Of course, except for Jon Snow.

"Damn it! Don't you have eyes?"

Jon stood on the zebra crossing and gave the middle finger to the third black guy who almost ran him over.

Feeling the roar of the vehicles behind him, he finally understood.

In this neighborhood, anyone who can't dodge like a snake won't survive past episode three.

Don't believe me? Then take a look at the pregnant woman in front of Jon Snow.

Right in front of him stood the expectant mother, six months pregnant.

Under Jon's dumbfounded gaze, she performed a perfect snake-like maneuver, gracefully crossing the main road during rush hour.

"Awesome..."

Jon, a cigarette dangling from his lips, walked toward the grocery store through the stench of the sewers and garbage heaps.

Twenty minutes later, Jon finally stood in front of the grocery store.

He now feels as if he has experienced another adventure.

"Ding-dong, welcome to Famens."

The familiar electronic voice startled Jon.

This old infrared sensor was actually the same model used in the convenience store in his hometown before he traveled back in time.

"This has even spread overseas," Jon remarked.

At this time.

"Yo bro!" A very formally dressed Black man lifted the curtain. "What are you daydreaming about? Just say what you want."

Jon's gaze swept across the shelf, landing on a bottle of milky white liquid: "Is this garlic extract?"

He picked up the bottle and asked.

"Of course." The shop owner spread his hands exaggeratedly. "Hey buddy, turn this over, it's written there."

Jon looked annoyed, turned the bottle around, and sure enough, the label on it said garlic extract.

"...Alright then." Jon's brow twitched. He put down the bottle and asked about Blade's whereabouts, "Where's Eric?"

"Oh! You're that JoJo?" The shopkeeper suddenly put his arm around his shoulder enthusiastically. "You should have said so earlier, bro! Come on in—"

Inside the workshop, Blade was leaning against the forging table with his arms crossed.

At this moment, his expression was very sour, extremely ugly, like a powder keg about to explode.

"Eric, when did you get here?" Jon looked around. "I don't see your car."

Blade clicked his tongue in annoyance, his fist clenched tightly, and after a long while he finally uttered a sentence.

"...was dragged away by the cops."