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

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Where is Fury?

Upon hearing this, the fake Fury secretly clenched his hands behind his back, but forced a calm expression on his face.

He stared at those red, vertical pupils that seemed to gleam with an almost icy light in the rainy night, and his body tensed involuntarily.

"What are you talking about?" He looked at him like he was crazy. "I am Nick Fury, the real deal."

"Understood."

Jon took a deep breath; Star Platinum's powerful punch was clearly ready to be unleashed.

His muscular arms were raised high, his entire body exuding extreme violence.

In the fake Fury's dynamic vision, a fist the size of a clay pot is rapidly enlarging.

If that punch really lands, Jon Snow will probably have to kneel down and beg him not to die.

The fake Fury, having figured it out, waved his hands frantically and said hurriedly:

"Wait, wait, wait! I'll say it!"

With a whoosh.

The fist stopped a millimeter away from his nose, but the airflow it generated still made his eyelids twitch.

At the same time, a huge whooshing sound rang in his ears, and the fake Fury's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

Instantly, the fake Fury's back was soaked with cold sweat. He swallowed hard and muttered to himself:

"Shit! Fury, you sour radish, don't eat that! Arminos!"

After the fake Fury finished complaining, his skin suddenly changed, and he eventually turned into a green alien with pointed ears.

"Oh my god."

Jon paused for a moment, blinked, and uttered a sentence.

"You're a Namekian? Then do you know the Special Beam Killer Wave?"

"What?!" Talos pointed at himself in disbelief. "Jon! I've watched Dragon Ball too, okay?!"

"Although we both have green skin, pointed ears, and even the same tongue color... hiss."

But as he spoke, his voice suddenly weakened, and he fell silent.

"You need to know."

Jon put away the Star of Platinum, walked over, patted him on the shoulder, and said:

"If something walks like a duck and makes a quacking sound like a duck, then it is a duck."

Actually, after seeing this guy's reaction and appearance...

Jon then remembered that Fury, that old bastard, had quite a few Skrull friends.

So what he just said was just him teasing Talos.

Talos remained silent for a long time, and finally managed to utter a sentence:

"Damn it, I'm going to sue him for violating my rights by offering me a loan!"

"Listen, Jon," Talos transformed back into Fury, raising his hands, "I am Fury's friend, my name is Talos, and I am a Skrull."

"Hmm." Jon feigned seriousness, though he was practically bursting with barely suppressed curiosity. "How do you prove it?"

"My God." Talos took a deep breath; to be honest, he was on the verge of a breakdown. "How do you expect me to prove it?"

"Then..." A sly glint flashed in Jon's eyes, "Tell me a secret about Fury, the really explosive kind."

"Wait a minute," Talos suddenly became alert, "you're not trying to trick me, are you?"

"Hmm?" Jon narrowed his eyes and coughed lightly. "What did you say?"

Star Platinum suddenly appeared, grabbing Talos by the collar, his other fist already poised to strike.

"Stop! Stop! Stop! Jon! STOP! STOP!" Talos frantically waved his hands. "I confess, I confess everything!"

"Hurry up." Jon retracted his double, his eyes filled with anticipation. "Speak quickly."

"Frey will definitely kill me, okay, Jon, you listen to me."

Taros spoke rapidly, his words tumbling out like spilled beans:

"That bastard Nick Fury has a wife named Priscilla Fury, whose real name is Farah, and she's a Skrull!"

"Pretty exciting, right?"

After he finished speaking, he cautiously looked up, only to find Jon with his mouth agape, looking utterly shocked.

"That's absolutely amazing," Jon murmured.

He never expected that a casual question would lead to such an amazing secret. Good heavens.

Jon truly hadn't expected this:

Nick Fury, that extremist intelligence chief and one of the world's top strategists, actually married an alien wife?

And to have an alien wife who can transform into anyone at will, that's just so enviable.

He couldn't even imagine how happy that old bastard Fury must have been when he was young.

"Jon." Seeing this, Talos suddenly narrowed his eyes and poked his finger at Jon's chest. "You were just trying to trick me into telling you something, weren't you?"

"I'm so envious..." Jon muttered unconsciously, "That old bastard."

"Huh?" Talos's ears perked up. "What did you just say?"

"Ahem, I said I believe you, my friend." Jon quickly grasped the other's hand. "I am Jon Yowick, nice to meet you."

"Thank goodness." Talos shook hands with a wry smile. "Just don't tell Fury..."

"Of course," Jon readily agreed, then suddenly lowered his voice, "So... where exactly is the real Fury?"

Meanwhile, on the waters off Hawaii, a yacht was peacefully moored.

on board.

"Achoo!" Fury's one eye nearly popped out of its socket from the sneeze. "Who's talking about me?"

He quickly wiped his face and continued to stare intently at the motionless fishing rod.

Deep within the S.H.I.E.L.D. base, Thor was knocking out the last S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and tossing him aside.

As he walked toward the last door, a forehead that wasn't so shiny slowly emerged from behind it.

"Sir, please stop here." Coulson pushed up his sunglasses, which were suddenly perched on his eyelids. "After all, this is a military restricted area."

Since gaining the power of Ripple, this veteran agent walks with an air of inexplicable confidence.

If Jon Snow were here, he would surely point out that this confidence is nothing but a sense of superiority.

Every human being with supernatural powers will inevitably develop this sense of superiority, a feeling of being the only one who matters.

This is something everyone goes through normally, except for Steve Rogers and Peter Parker, of course.

These two are not normal people; one has no dark side, and the other has very little dark side.

So if Jon knew about Coulson's situation, he would definitely say:

"Still feeling superior? Or haven't you been beaten enough?"

He got beaten up a lot back then, so he has a lot of experience with it.

Let's turn our attention back to Thor and Coulson.

Thor shook the mud off his hair, looked at the guy in sunglasses in the middle of the night, and a sinister smile crept across his face.

As an Asgardian, he didn't waste any words and immediately began his charge!

"Well done!" Coulson shouted, striking a standard Jiu-Jitsu stance and mimicking Jon Snow's signature move.

"Ripple! Sprint!"

A fist crackling with golden lightning sliced ​​through the air as he nimbly bent down to dodge Thor's powerful punch, landing a beautiful hook straight at Thor's side.

"Bang!"

Coulson's lips had just curled into a smug smile.

But he didn't notice that Thor, who had been hit, simply touched the spot where he had been struck, looking confused.

"A strange feeling..." Thor muttered to himself.

When was the last time I felt this burning, stinging sensation? Five hundred years ago? Or six hundred...?

Forget it, I'm too lazy to think about it.

Snapped!

A single slap sent his sunglasses flying more than ten meters away.

Before Coulson could recover from his shock, Thor's fist, the size of a sandbag, came hurtling towards him.

"Ugh!"

With a single punch, Coulson rolled his eyes, and the newly recruited Ripple Warrior collapsed limply to the ground.

"That's it?" Thor stepped over the unconscious Coulson and eagerly pushed open the door.

"Mjolnir! Daddy's here to pick you up!"