Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

Things went so smoothly that Darius had no real sense of reality - he thought it would be a hard battle and many people would die. Unexpectedly, their weapons were not even stained with blood, and Thane would

The matter is completely resolved.

What he didn't know was that Thain was actually surprised too.

Only Kronos looked like he had expected it. He had already seen the extraordinary charisma of the Primarchs. This kind of trivial fact was really not worth mentioning. He was very concerned about the current political turmoil in Noxus.

He is not interested at all. For Astartes, he has seen too many similar things. Not to mention a country, he has not seen rebellions on a planet as a unit.

The top priority is to quickly restore Noxus' combat effectiveness, and then unify the world, so that humans in this world can avoid unnecessary wars and internal strife. You must know that dying at the hands of your own compatriots is the most stupid thing.

Let’s put aside the matter of Noxus for now and turn our perspective back to the mage.

What is he doing?

He was walking on the streets of New York, and the crowds coming and going turned a blind eye to this strangely dressed man. He came all the way from the Manhattan peninsula to the notorious Hell's Kitchen, where all kinds of life were played out.

You can see drug addicts lying on the street in broad daylight, taking drugs, and you can also catch a glimpse of a few sneaky guys secretly trading something when passing by an alley. Here, crime and violence are the themes.

But these people are not the target of the mage. He is not here for these addicts.

He just wants to find someone.

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

The strong man was slowly sharpening the tactical dagger in his hand. A man with a bruised nose and face was tied to the chair in front of him. The two of them seemed to be in an abandoned factory.

"You won't get what you want from me...Punisher." The guy tied to the chair laughed lowly, seemingly indifferent to the torture he was about to face.

"I'll wait and see." The sturdy man said in a leisurely manner, then put the dagger back into his waist and walked to the other side of the factory. He was wearing a long black windbreaker, exposing his chest while swinging.

skull pattern.

Over there, there was a table with a black leather suitcase on it. The Punisher opened the suitcase, took out an injection, and then came back. He squatted in front of the guy who was tied to the chair, and raised the

Holding the injection in his hand, he asked, "Do you know what this is?"

The guy sneered, and even at this point he was still very stubborn: "I'm just selling this stuff, how could I not know?"

At this point, even the Punisher laughed out loud. His laughter sounded like two stones rubbing against each other, making a cold and rough sound: "You stay here and work as a drug dealer."

It's really unfair, you should really compete with the CIA."

The guy spat on the ground with disdain: "Do you think I haven't dealt with them? Come on! I've tried worse things than this. Believe me, you either kill me or...

You are doing useless work on me."

"Really?" The smile on the Punisher's face gradually calmed down, and he injected the injection into the guy's thigh. His fingers pushed it a little bit, and the man's expression relaxed a little bit. He couldn't resist the effect of the drug.

, almost half a minute later, he had already started to roll his eyes.

"I never said I wanted anything from you, idiot."

The Punisher turned around and took the suitcase over. There were dozens of such injections in a dazzling array. Then he grabbed a handful, pierced them all into the man, and injected all the transparent liquid inside into him.

After doing all this, he put a black bag on the man's head, and then left the factory.

No one can withstand so much medicine at once. He will die soon, and his death will be very miserable - so miserable that even people like the Punisher don't want to watch it.

After leaving the factory, he didn't know when he had put on a large hat, covering his entire face, and his windbreaker was buttoned tightly. Until he returned to his room in a cheap hotel

Finally, he took off his windbreaker, revealing his tight-fitting short sleeves stained with blood.

He did not choose to wash up, but took out a small kraft paper notebook and began to write something on it. This habit he had started two years ago. During the operation to annihilate the gang, he almost died.

He was beaten to death by a guy who put a cold gun in the back. At that time, he realized that he would die sooner or later.

It was just a matter of sooner or later, so he chose to start writing something. Not to prove anything, but to understand something when people found his body.

"The clues are broken, as it should be. I should have thought of him being able to operate in New York for so many years without leaving any trace behind."

After writing this, he paused for a moment, then started another line and started writing again.

"I thought of that girl again. She was just one of the corpses at the feet of that bastard. But I could never forget her face. For some reason, I often thought of that rainy night. From that day on, I understood that some people

He must die."

"There are no second options, no jail, no visits from time to time, no parole. I will not let them get away with it easily after committing a crime. He must die."

After writing this sentence, he threw the kraft paper on the bed, then lay back, staring at the dark ceiling, saying no more.

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

Somewhere in New York.

In an office on the top floor of a building.

"So, he's dead?"

"Yes, boss."

The man called the boss turned around from his chair. His body was extremely large, not fat, but extremely strong. His specially made white suit was bulging. Every detail of his suit was exquisite.

Sophisticated, from the cufflinks to the embellishments on the carefully chosen tie.

He stood up and started pacing in the office with his hands behind his back: "Stop the sale of new drugs. If anyone is dissatisfied, let them know. This is my intention."

He stopped in front of his floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the beautiful scenery of the setting sun outside the window, and said calmly: "Follow this matter with all my strength. I want to know who is causing the obstruction. Marceau was promoted in just ten years."

God, he was killed in the warehouse, along with the hundreds of people under his command."

He turned around and looked at his men, with a thoughtful tone in his voice: "...Who do you think has such a cruel heart?"

Without waiting for his men to answer, he waved his hand: "Forget it, let someone prepare the car. I can't be late."

Half an hour later, he arrived at a high-end restaurant on time. There was no one in the restaurant, and he had reserved a table specially for today. The waiter opened the door for him and guided him respectfully. The man's temperament at this time was much better than that in the office.

To put it bluntly, there has been a huge change. He has a warm smile on his face, and his whole person looks much kinder.

After sitting down, he called one of his bodyguards and asked, "How long until she arrives?"

"There are five minutes left, boss. Our guys contacted the police and asked them to specially adjust the traffic volume on the road today."

The man smiled and nodded: "Very good, remember to notify me when she gets downstairs."

"Yes, boss."

Not long after, the bodyguard came over and whispered a few words to him. He immediately put on a brighter smile and stood up from his seat. A woman who was not beautiful, could even be said to be ordinary, walked out of the door.

Come in. It can be seen that she has tried her best to dress up, but her light green skirt still looks a bit inconspicuous in the restaurant.

She was obviously aware of this, and her steps were a little restrained. The man turned a blind eye to this, and he quickly came forward and signaled the waiter not to bother anymore. When the woman saw him, she immediately laughed: "Fisk!"

She held Fisk's arm affectionately and whispered to him: "Why is there no one here?"

Fisk patted her arm comfortingly and whispered back in the same voice: "Don't worry, Vanessa. The chef here and I are a bit pretentious, and he sold me a favor."

When he said this, the image of the chef with a bruised nose and face flashed through his mind.

A special cold sense of humor echoed in his heart. He knew he shouldn't laugh, but he couldn't help laughing. However, he concealed it very well: "Come on, Vanessa, this is for you.

surprise.”

He opened a chair for Vanessa and let her sit down.

Needless to say, the dinner between the two went very smoothly. Fisk even sent her home late at night. It was not until he saw her going upstairs that Fisk felt relieved. At the same time, the expression on his face also

He turned into that cold and ruthless look again.

The bodyguard in black who had been following him wisely came over, lit a cigar for him, and then whispered: "It's been found out, boss. It's Frank Custer."

While smoking a cigar and savoring the mellow aroma, Fisk narrowed his eyes and said casually: "Of course, who else could it be besides him? It seems that our old friend is not dead."

He laughed twice and sat back in his limousine, with his bodyguard sitting beside him. The driver started the car and everything seemed so logical.

His voice echoed in the car: "The official selling price of this cigar is nine hundred dollars each. Their rhetoric made this cigar extremely hyped. Of course, we all know that if I hadn't sold this cigar,

Get out, it's worthless."

"Nine hundred dollars?" He sneered, and then said: "Money is the least valuable thing..."

Then, he threw the cigar out of the half-opened car window. The bodyguard heard his calm and unquestionable voice: "In three days at the latest, I want to see Frank Castle's head in my car."

It’s on the desk.”

"Yes, boss."

The luxury car quickly drove away from this mid-range community, leaving only a high-end cigar rolling on the street, and the smoke puffed out from the rear of the car proved that they had been here. A man came from the corner of the street.

He walked out of the darkness, wearing a long windbreaker and an expressionless face.

He stared at the taillights of the departing limousine, turned his head and glanced at Vanessa's home, where the lights were already on.

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

To He Shenyan, the city of New York seems to be cursed.

No matter how many worlds he passed through, New York in every world was either troubled or had an alarming crime rate. Just like the city under his feet, in just half a day, he had seen more than 30 crimes with his naked eyes.

——He stopped each one of them in an unexpected way.

For example, when a robber was working, he suddenly found that the gun in his hand and his palm were melted together. The thief fell down just after he succeeded, and the stolen thing luckily fell in front of the owner. There are countless such things.

.

He Shenyan was floating above New York at this time. He was looking at someone in the city below him, his eyes following him but not communicating with him directly. This was an assessment, but the person being assessed was not informed.

.After leaving Batman's world, he has traveled through forty worlds, and there is no suitable candidate in any of them.

The Emperor created the Primarch, but he could only choose the Primarch. This also meant that he had to be very cautious. He would not choose someone at will without enough consideration. Some worlds did have faces he was familiar with.

But compared to the people He Shenyan was familiar with, they were inferior in some respects.

In other worlds, there is no soil that can give birth to Primarchs. It should be noted that heroes also need an environment to grow. If a world is too peaceful, then it is impossible for him to find the person he is looking for. From some kind of

To a certain extent, this is a bitter irony.

Thinking of this, he smiled.

The Punisher of this world is the most pitiful one among the many people with the same name and surname he has ever seen - maybe it is related to his experience, or maybe it is just because he is simply special. But no matter what, this name

The man who was Frank Custer was very different from the one he remembered.

He is younger, and has experienced more horrific things. His personality is not as extreme as the Frank he knows. Of course, it is just not as extreme as the Punisher. He treats those petty thieves

, you will not kill them directly. Instead, you will let them go after breaking their hands and feet, but if you have committed a more serious crime...

Then there will be something good to watch.

In his sight, Frank Castle had sneaked into the home of the woman named Vanessa. She was taking a bath, and Frank was rummaging through the cabinets. He was looking for possible criminal evidence. Vanessa may not know it, but

He knew everything about the man named Fisk - he was better known by another name than Fisk.

Jin Bin.

The uncrowned king of the New York underground can even control the entire underground black industry in the United States with New York as the core. To bring down such an opponent, killing alone cannot solve the problem. Even people with a murderous nature like the Punisher know this

One point. He thought that his early investigation of Kingpin was complete enough, but for this Vanessa...

He knew nothing about her. Kingpin obviously hid this woman well, but he didn't believe that Vanessa knew nothing about Kingpin's identity. Just as he was rummaging through the boxes, the sound of water in the bathroom stopped.

Already.

The Punisher stopped. He pulled out a pistol from his waist and turned on the safety. A female voice said in the bathroom: "Sir, if you want to take something, just take it. I don't have any cash at home. I have it all."

In the corner of the bedside table. I just ask you not to hurt me, okay?"

"You can take anything you want, I won't come out, I won't resist. I can't call the police, my phone is on the sofa, you can see it. If you want, you can take it too

Go. My only request is that you don't hurt me."

Her voice sounded very calm. The Punisher was silent for a while and asked: "Fisk."

"What?" she asked confused.

"Wilson Grant Fisk. Tell me what you know about him."

"...Sir, he is just a philanthropist and a businessman. If the person behind you wants to compete with him, please use legitimate means, okay? Threatening me is useless, I will not tell you anything you want to know

of--"

"boom!"

A crisp sound interrupted her words, and the Punisher smashed the glass of her bathroom door and opened the door. Then he pointed a gun at Vanessa, who was wrapped in a bath towel, and said coldly: "Put on your slippers and come here."

Vanessa obediently complied. In her opinion, this man's identity had changed from a thief seeking wealth to a helper invited by a competitor who wanted to disadvantage Fisk in business. But people's speculations often differed from

The truth couldn't be further from the truth.

After she sat on the sofa, the Punisher leaned against the wall of her living room and said calmly: "What's your name?"

"Vanessa Eli."

Facing the punisher's gun, she obediently began to answer questions.

"age?"

"34."

"What about career?"

"To be honest, I run a gallery in the center of New York. I sometimes exhibit the works of some young painters."

The Punisher narrowed his eyes: "That's it?"

Vanessa asked, "What if? I am proud of my career. Over the years, I have helped many young painters get through their difficult period of becoming famous..."

Facing the rising muzzle of the gun, she closed her mouth.

The Punisher asked again: "How did you and Kingpin meet?"

"Kingpin?"

Her face looked confused and puzzled. How could a woman who runs an art gallery have such natural acting skills? The Punisher buried this question deep in his heart. He knew that Vanessa was probably not lying.

She really didn't know who Kingpin was.

"Okay, let me tell you something..." He said, suddenly turned his head, and then fired three shots at Vanessa's door. There was a heavy object outside the corridor.

The sound of falling to the ground.

Seeing Vanessa's panicked face and her hands covering her mouth, the Punisher laughed rarely. The smile that appeared on his face was so abrupt and disharmonious: "He protected you very well.

Miss."

As he spoke, he fired three more shots into the corridor. As if predicting the future, the sound of heavy objects falling to the ground again came from the corridor.

"The show has begun." The Punisher said softly.