Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

Frank waited patiently.

Don't get me wrong, Bonavia's matter has been settled long ago. What he is waiting for at this time is for the repair of his weapon to be completed.

Normally, Frank is not a very patient person. Sometimes he doesn't even have any patience at all, such as when facing those damned people and aliens. However, people all have two sides.

The craftsman in front of him raised his hand and knocked on his head in great distress, and the sound of metal clashing came out: "This... Om Messiah, what on earth did you do to this gun?"

?”

"Killed seventeen orcs with it," Frank replied. "But not by pulling the trigger."

The craftsman's pair of protruding red electronic eyes trembled violently - his modified and extremely stable mechanical arm almost missed and dropped the gun to the ground: "...Sir? Is there something wrong with my hearing sensor?

?”

"No problem, Craftsman."

Bonavia sighed and began to explain to him on Frank's behalf. The Punisher's language function seems to have degenerated when facing humans, and he can always tell some things that are very shocking or unclear.

At this time, it was her turn to appear.

"As you heard, the truth is what the Lord said. He killed seventeen orcs with this gun. So, can it be repaired?"

Frank glanced sideways at Bonavia, then turned his head and nodded: "Can it be repaired?"

The craftsman's mechanical face began to tremble, which was proof that he was making calculations. This former Tech-priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus, like all his colleagues, learned more advanced science and technology after arriving at the Terra Space Station.

Most people immediately modified themselves, such as using stronger outer materials, more sophisticated sensors, and adding a lot of inexplicable functions... But this craftsman was an anomaly.

He doesn't have much interest in other things, he only likes to make and repair weapons.

So he didn't modify himself too much. On the contrary, in order to obtain more efficient computing power to satisfy his hobbies, he even gave up part of his stability. Because of this, his mechanical face was always shaking.

Non-stop.

Three minutes later, the craftsman said in his synthesized voice that was obviously full of noise: "...It can be repaired, sir. But I'm afraid it will take about a day, in order to maintain the stability and stability of this sacred bolt gun.

I'm afraid it will take a lot of time to repair the machine soul inside it. Ah, it would be great if it didn't give birth to a machine soul."

"I don't have that time. I will leave the Terra Space Station in 19 hours." Frank replied coldly, not caring about the 'machine soul' in his mouth.

"Well...then, would you mind depositing this sacred weapon with me first?"

A mechanical tentacle stretched out from behind the craftsman, picked up the bolter with a completely twisted handle and barrel, and put it into a huge backpack on his back: "Next time you come to Terra Space Station, you

You can take it away."

Frank narrowed his eyes and watched as another tentacle stretched out from behind the craftsman. That tentacle carried a completely new firearm and placed it in front of him.

"...As an alternative, if you don't mind, you can try my work."

Frank raised his hand and picked up the brand-new gun. The heavy feel made his brows relax immediately. He observed the gun carefully. Its appearance was different from that of a bolt gun. It did not have that obvious violent aesthetic.

, replaced by a low-key threat.

The craftsman is still introducing: "This is a new weapon that I learned from my studies... There is no doubt that it is the embodiment of the destructive power of Ohm Messiah. It uses heavy explosives and has a magazine of 17 rounds...

....Of course, this is all secondary."

A simulated smile suddenly appeared on his mechanical face that was no longer comparable to humans. It was stiff and had the sound of steel rubbing against each other.

"As for its power...I promise you, it will never disappoint you."

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

Without directly testing the power of the new weapon at the craftsman, Frank returned directly to his spaceship. He believed the craftsman's words.

This ship is not big and can only accommodate fifty people. This is because it was not designed to carry people, but for ultimate speed and concealment.

——In other words, this ship was specially used for Frank. It was to allow him to travel across the galaxy at the fastest speed, kill people, and leave quickly after completing the mission.

With five hours left until the end of his ship's repairs, Bonavia chose to go back to her room and take a nap. The mechanical part didn't need to rest, but the human part of her still needed it. Frank returned to the wheelhouse, and he took out another

Take out the combat dagger and play with it carefully.

This is his pastime.

However, a certain heavy sense of oppression came quietly.

The hard alloy that made up the ship's bulkhead began to emit an unbearable whine. Frank raised his head and stared at the warning light above his head that did not change at all.

Logically speaking, this level of pressure would have already enabled its main control computer to activate a passive defense plan. However, let alone the passive defense plan, the main control computer was silent at this time, as if his ship was not even

It seems like this thing is not installed.

His eyes hardened and he stood up. It has been several years since he came to this universe. If you want to ask him what he has learned from such a long period of killing, it is probably only one thing.

——In this galaxy, there is no so-called logic. Death is a sharp knife hanging over the head of everyone, even every living thing, and it may fall at any time.

He gripped the combat dagger tightly. The space in the cockpit was relatively narrow compared to his size. If he wanted to fight here, he did not intend to use a gun. What's more, even if it was a Khorne Daemon, he would be confident

Just kill it here.

It would be better to say that what he wished for was a Khorne Daemon. Killing only greenskins was not enough.

However, he was destined to be disappointed.

The pressure became more and more terrifying and overwhelming. Even his bones, which were as strong as alloys, began to wail. Frank inevitably stretched out his hand and held onto the wall. He had gritted his teeth and planned to resist this force.

Such a terrifying oppressive force - but, after a certain point, it disappeared.

"call......"

Someone exhaled softly, and a breeze from nowhere began to swirl in the cockpit. An incredible thing happened in the next second. The wall that had been distorted by oppression became flat again, and even the walls inside Frank's body

The little pain I felt disappeared.

"Long time no see, Frank. I'm sorry for causing some impact on your ship..."

"......what?"

"It's me." He Shenyan smiled and patted Frank's breastplate. "That's right, I'm back. Ah, the technology I sent back is pretty good for you."