Marvel: Ma'am, I'm your husband's boss

In their vision, everything around them appeared in different colors and outlines, and the enemies hidden in the fog had nowhere to hide.

Erica understood that to create such a big commotion, one of the fingers of the hand and the meeting must have arrived at the scene. She did not intend to take action directly, but said, "What, are you finally going to turn against Fisk?" No one wanted to answer her, but Erica could feel a burning gaze shrouding her through the pink mist.

"Erica, you traitor." After a long time, an old voice came. The voice seemed to come from a faraway place, carrying the vicissitudes of time and a heavy sense of oppression. In this pink mist, the voice seemed particularly gloomy.

Erica had been standing there quietly, waiting for the other party's next move, but after hearing this voice, a disdainful smile suddenly appeared on her face.

"It turned out to be you, old man Murakami. I thought it was Madam Gao who came and scared me!" Erica raised the corners of her mouth slightly, revealing a disdainful smile. Her eyes flashed with a provocative light, as if she didn't take Murakami seriously at all.

Erica raised her chin slightly and continued, "If Madam Gao comes, it will really give me a headache. After all, I am a student taught by Madam Gao, and she knows all my moves.

Even though I hold this vibranium dagger in my hand, which is an indestructible weapon, I am not sure if I have the strength to defeat Mrs. Gao.

Her experience and wisdom make her a formidable presence. And you, Murakami, although you have some skills, you are still far behind Mrs. Gao." Erica's words were full of confidence and arrogance, and her posture seemed to tell Murakami that he was no match for her.

Murakami didn't say anything else, because his rich combat experience told him that Erica was deliberately provoking him so that she could find his location and kill him with one blow.

Pink mist surged around them, as if adding a veil of mystery to the battle that was about to break out.

Erica held the short knife tightly, leaning forward slightly, like a cheetah ready to attack. Her eyes were fixed on a certain direction in the mist, where Murakami's breath was looming. The mist seemed to have life, flowing slowly, making the whole scene full of mystery and danger.

Suddenly, a black shadow shot out from the mist, and Murakami appeared like a ghost. He was wearing a black robe, which fluttered gently in the mist, as if blending into the surrounding environment. His face was old and cold, and the years had carved deep wrinkles on his face, but his eyes revealed endless murderous intent. In his hand was a curved long sword, and the blade was flashing with a strange light. The light was bright and dim in the mist, as if telling the countless battles that the sword had experienced.

Without saying a word, Murakami rushed towards Erica, wielding his long sword. The sword flashed through the mist like lightning, with a fierce momentum. The sword light seemed to be able to cut the air apart, making a sharp whistling sound. Erica nimbly dodged sideways, and at the same time, the short sword in her hand quickly swung out, intersecting with Murakami's long sword, making a crisp collision sound. Sparks flew, and at that moment, it seemed as if time had frozen. The two instantly fell into a fierce battle.

Erica was agile, dancing through the mist, stabbing, poking, and slashing with the dagger in her hand. Each move was precise and deadly. Her movements were light and graceful, as if she was performing a dance of death. The dagger in her hand seemed to have life, flexibly attacking Murakami's vital parts.

Murakami, with his rich combat experience and powerful strength, resolved Erica's attacks time and time again. His long sword swung tightly, like an indestructible barrier. Every swing brought with it a powerful force, stirring up the surrounding fog even more violently.

The battle became more and more intense, and the fog was stirred up by their power. The fog was like a turbulent sea wave, rolling continuously. Erica sometimes jumped high and launched a surprise attack from the air. Her figure was like a flying bird, light and agile.

Sometimes she rolled quickly on the ground to avoid Murakami's attacks. Her movements were like those of a nimble fox, making her difficult to predict.

Murakami was not to be outdone. His attacks became more and more fierce, and each strike contained great power. His figure appeared and disappeared in the mist, making it difficult to grasp. He kept changing his attack methods, trying to find Erica's flaws.

The two men fought back and forth in the mist, the flashes of swords and shadows intertwined. Their figures shuttled through the mist like phantoms, and every collision made a deafening sound.

The sound echoed in the mist like a fierce symphony. The surrounding tyrants watched the battle nervously, ready to help Erica when she needed it.

Just when the two were about to fight to a standstill, a loud noise suddenly sounded in the sky. The loud noise was like a bolt from the blue, making people's ears buzz.

Immediately afterwards, all the pink mist flew quickly into the sky and disappeared without a trace in the blink of an eye.

The fog seemed to be attracted by a powerful force and quickly disappeared into the sky.

At the same time, the gargoyles that were attacking the St. Fisk block in the sky also fled quickly. Their figures disappeared quickly into the sky like frightened birds.

A burly guy with bare upper body and muscles as hard as rock was flying in the sky. His body exuded great power, like an unshakable mountain. In his hand, he held a pink ball of mist, which flashed a strange light.

Fisk glanced around coldly and touched a bronze ring on his finger with the thumb of his other hand.

"Today, if I don't kill you all, I will be called Meyer! Saint Fisk Meyer." His voice was not loud, but it reached everyone's ears. The voice was full of majesty and domineering, which made people feel afraid.

Erica and Murakami both stopped fighting and looked up at Fisk in the sky. They had different expressions on their faces, and Erica's eyes flashed with joy. She knew that Fisk's return might directly change the situation of this battle.

Murakami showed a hint of caution, his eyes full of vigilance and thought.

"Didn't these damn bastards say they could hold him back for a week? Damn idiots, it's not even a day!" Murakami was filled with anger and confusion. He originally thought he could complete the task smoothly, but he didn't expect Fisk to show up so soon.

He wanted to escape, but Erica obviously wouldn't let him go.

Chapter 249 Revenge

Fisk was about to explode when he saw the devastated St. Fisk Street. His eyes were burning with anger, as if it could burn everything to ashes. He clenched his hands fiercely, and the pink mist ball was quickly crushed. The pink mist quickly dissipated, but in the blink of an eye it was cut and blown away by countless sharp wind blades and finally disappeared without a trace.

Then, a strong wind blew up in the sky for no apparent reason. The wind howled like an angry dragon. The wind was so strong that it shook the surrounding trees violently and caused leaves to fall. The gargoyles that were fleeing in all directions were quickly swept away by the strong wind. They struggled in the strong wind, but could not break free from this powerful force.

Fisk disappeared in the air, and appeared in the distance the next second, around the gargoyles that were caught in the strong wind. His figure was like a ghost, making it difficult to grasp.

These gargoyles had no intention of fighting at all, as if the people controlling them only wanted them to escape. Therefore, even though Fisk was close at hand, and even though all the gargoyles were blocked by the strong wind and could not leave, the gargoyles still had no intention of attacking Fisk.

The next second, blood-red mist appeared in the air. The mist was as thick as blood, emitting a pungent smell. Fisk's hands danced, as if conducting a bloody symphony. One gargoyle after another was pierced and exploded by his fists.

In the blood mist, Fisk's figure was as terrifying as a demon. There was a crazy light flashing in his eyes, and a cruel smile on his lips. The gargoyles screamed in pain in the blood mist, their bodies were pierced, and stones fell one after another. After being hit, some gargoyles instantly exploded into countless fragments, splashing all around. The blood mist filled the air, intertwined with the remains of the gargoyles, forming an extremely bloody picture.

Fisk's movements did not pause at all. He seemed to be immersed in this bloody massacre, sending each gargoyle to destruction. As time went by, the number of gargoyles became fewer and fewer, and the debris on the ground piled up like a mountain. The entire St. Fisk district seemed to have turned into a bloody hell, which made people shudder.

It was as if he realized that there was no way to escape.

As if they realized that there was no way to escape, the remaining gargoyles finally turned around and rushed in the direction of Fisk. There was a kind of desperate madness in their movements, as if they were going to make a desperate struggle at the last moment. As they flew, cracks began to appear on their bodies, and those cracks spread rapidly like spider webs. In addition, their bodies began to ripple with yellow light, as if they had turned into some unstable bombs. The yellow light flickered, exuding a dangerous aura that made people shudder.

When they flew around Fisk, they suddenly began to expand violently. The speed of expansion was extremely fast, as if they were a balloon being blown up. The next second, explosions flashed yellow light one after another, almost enveloping everything in it. The strong shock wave of the explosion spread out in all directions, and the air was instantly torn apart, making a deafening sound. The yellow light was like a surging sea wave, instantly flooding the area where Fisk was. The surrounding buildings shook violently under the impact of the explosion, and countless cracks appeared on the walls. Some fragile parts even collapsed directly. Dust flew up in the aftermath of the explosion, forming a thick smoke that made it difficult to see the situation clearly.

at the same time.

In the basement of a single-family house in Queens, far away from the St. Fisk neighborhood, a pale man opened his eyes. His eyes revealed a trace of panic and uneasiness, as if he had just woken up from a nightmare. Without the slightest hesitation, he stood up and turned around to walk upstairs. His steps were hurried and rapid, and every step was accompanied by an eagerness to escape. He didn't know if he had killed Fisk, but now he had to leave here. Because he couldn't afford to gamble. If Fisk died, everything would be fine, but if he didn't die, then he was not far from death.

To be honest, he didn't expect Fisk's subordinates to have such fierce firepower, and none of them were good people. In order to carry out today's sneak attack, he slaughtered half of the people in Mexico to make so many flesh and blood puppets, but he didn't expect that he would be killed by Fisk who broke free from the mirror world before he even flew into the San Fisk block. His heart was full of regret and unwillingness. He thought his plan was perfect, but he didn't expect that it would fail in the end.

Just as he was about to leave the villa, the cell phone on his waist suddenly rang. He answered the call while driving on the road. The voice on the other end of the phone was full of electromagnetic noise, obviously disguised: "Contract ended!" After that, the phone was hung up. The man cursed and stepped on the accelerator. But suddenly, cold sweat broke out on his forehead, because he found that there was a woman with the same pale skin on the back seat where there was nothing in the rearview mirror.

A sense of fear surged in his heart, and his hands began to tremble involuntarily. He glanced at the rearview mirror again, and there was still no figure of the woman in the rearview mirror, but the woman was sitting there quietly, with empty and indifferent eyes, like a lifeless ghost.

Suddenly, Louise spoke. Her voice was cold and calm, as if it came from a distant void. "You shouldn't have left that villa. As long as you lock yourself in the basement of the villa, I won't be able to smell your blood. But now you only have one choice, which is to drive to the San Fisk community!" Louise's words were like cold shackles, tightly wrapped around the man.

The man's face became even paler, like a bloodless piece of white paper. His lips trembled slightly, and his eyes were full of fear and despair. He kept exerting force on the steering wheel, and the veins on the back of his hand bulged, as if he was struggling silently. There was a look of struggle in his eyes, as if he was hesitating before a desperate blow. His heart was full of contradictions and fears. On the one hand, he knew that if he went to the San Fisk community, death would most likely be waiting for him.

On the other hand, he clearly understood that if he did not do as Louise asked, he would now face even more dire consequences.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment, and the man was struggling painfully. In the end, he chose to give up, and all the strength in his body seemed to be drained away. His shoulders drooped, and his eyes lost their luster. He slowly moved the steering wheel, and the movement was extremely heavy, as if every move required all his strength. The car slowly turned and drove towards the direction of the San Fisk district.

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Fisk blew away the smoke around him.

The last piece of clothing on his body had been completely destroyed in the explosion, but he didn't care. He glanced at the gargoyles around him that were torn to pieces.

Looking back, Erica and Murakami were fighting hard. Murakami, who was swinging his sword, felt his scalp tingling. He didn't care about anything else and turned around and ran. Erica wanted to chase him, but suddenly white mist flashed on the ground. Then, more than a dozen ninjas with the determination to die rushed towards Erica, ready to hold her back.

Fisk sneered.

"Want to run?"

Then he disappeared again.

The next second, Fisk appeared like a ghost behind the fleeing Murakami.

Murakami felt a terrifying sense of oppression. He looked back in horror, but only saw Fisk's cold and ruthless eyes.

Before Murakami could react, Fisk attacked like a storm.

His fist, with the force of thunder, hit Murakami fiercely. Murakami hastily raised his knife to block, but Fisk's strength was too strong, and the hard knife was instantly bent and deformed.

Fisk showed no mercy and continued to launch a violent attack. Each of his punches and kicks carried destructive power, leaving Murakami powerless to fight back.

However, Murakami, as one of the five fingers of the Hand, was no ordinary person. He quickly drew a dagger that shone with green light from his waist, and with a flash of his body, he stabbed at Fisk. The dagger flashed a cold light in the air at an extremely fast speed.

However, Fisk just slightly turned his body and easily dodged the attack. Then, he kicked Murakami's wrist fiercely, and the dagger in Murakami's hand flew out of his hand.

Fisk took advantage of the situation and grabbed Murakami by the collar, lifted him up high, and then threw him down heavily.

A big hole was smashed into the ground and Murakami groaned in pain.

But he did not give up. He muttered something and quickly formed seals with his hands. Suddenly, a black light emanated from his body, forming a shield. Fisk's fist hit the shield and was bounced back.

Fisk frowned slightly, and he increased his strength and punched the shield again. This time, a crack appeared on the shield. Murakami was shocked when he saw this, and he quickly used other means to save his life. He took out a black bead from his arms and crushed it with force. Suddenly, a black smoke spread out and enveloped him. Fisk's vision was blocked by the smoke, and he couldn't find Murakami's location for a while.

However, Fisk did not panic. He closed his eyes and felt the air around him. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and rushed in one direction. In the smoke, Fisk found Murakami accurately, grabbed Murakami's neck, and dragged him out of the smoke.

At this moment, Murakami's eyes flashed with despair, but he was still unwilling to die. He slipped a sharp dagger from his sleeve and stabbed Fisk fiercely. Fisk snorted coldly, easily grabbed his wrist, twisted it hard, and the dagger fell off.

Then, Fisk threw Murakami to the ground like a rag, then lifted him up high and threw him down heavily, leaving big holes on the ground. Blood gushed out of Murakami's mouth. Sometimes he grabbed Murakami's limbs and tore them hard. With a few "cracks", Murakami's limbs were torn off. Blood gushed out like a fountain, staining the ground red. Murakami screamed in pain, his voice was shrill and desperate, but Fisk had no mercy. There was only coldness and anger in his eyes, as if he wanted to vent all his anger on Murakami.

Fisk stepped on Murakami's chest again, and Murakami's ribs broke instantly, piercing his internal organs. Blood continued to flow out of his mouth, and his eyes gradually became blurred. But Fisk did not stop attacking, he continued to torture Murakami, punching Murakami's face with his fists, smashing his face into a bloody mess, almost unrecognizable.

As time went by, Murakami's body became broken and his breath became weaker and weaker. But Fisk did not stop attacking, he continued to torture Murakami until Murakami completely lost all signs of life. Finally, Fisk stood beside Murakami's body, coldly looking at the horrible remains, and the anger in his heart subsided a little.

Behind her, Erica had already dealt with all the ninjas of the Hand and Society.

The others have also arrived.

His eyes glanced around.

Fisk's heart, which had been tense for a long time, finally relaxed.

His pupils turned pitch black.

On the ground, inside Murakami's body, a ball of red light was quickly crushed and decomposed, turning into a large number of memory images, which were finally read rapidly by Fisk.

Fisk raised his eyebrows and a cruel smile appeared on the corner of his mouth. He finally knew who was so bold as to attack him.

In fact, he thought of many of his enemies, but he never expected that all these things were related to one person - Hank Pym.

Of course, he only saw Murakami's memories.

It is not certain that this massive attack was organized by Hank Pym. However, it does not matter. After finding him, Fisk can learn from his memory whether this incident has anything to do with him.

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Hank Pym didn't hesitate at all, he shrunk all the instruments in front of him, and stuffed them into the suitcase beside him. His face was gloomy, and his heart was full of regret and anxiety. He never thought that these helpers he had carefully planned were so incompetent.

He quickly packed up other important items, his movements were hasty and panic. Various possible consequences kept flashing through his mind. He knew how terrible Fisk was. If he was caught up by him, the consequences would be disastrous. While Hank Pym was packing, he was thinking about the escape route. He had to leave this place as soon as possible and find a safe hiding place.

His hands were shaking slightly, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He quickly checked the suitcase to make sure he had not missed anything important. Then he picked up the suitcase and turned to walk towards the exit. His steps were hurried and his heart was beating like thunder. He dared not delay for even a second, because he knew that every second could determine his life or death.

He quickly reached the rooftop, where his daughter had already started the helicopter. The propellers spun rapidly, making a loud roar. Hank Pym hurriedly boarded the helicopter, feeling a little relieved. However, just as he got on the helicopter, a huge force suddenly enveloped their bodies. The force was like an invisible giant hand, tightly grasping the helicopter. Then the helicopter flew sideways, sliding and rubbing on the rooftop until it stopped at the edge of the rooftop.

The friction between metal and concrete floor made a sharp sound and sparks flew. They held on to the seats tightly, trying to keep their balance. The helicopter was shaking violently on the roof, as if it could crash at any time.

"Hi, how are you guys!" Fisk's face appeared on the front windshield of the helicopter. He was not even wearing clothes. His body was still naked, but the muscles all over his body were like steel and looked hideous and terrifying.

Take a day off

I am writing a sequel today, so I will take a day off.

Chapter 250 She is very smooth!

Hank Pym looked at Fisk's hideous face.

I don't know why I suddenly calmed down.

He faced Fisk, and a strange smile suddenly appeared at the corner of his mouth.