Marvel: Starting with the Glint-Glint Fruit

Whether or not he can be killed is another matter, but even if Matthew could be killed, the price he would have to pay would be absolutely unacceptable.

When the effort and the reward are completely disproportionate, the best approach is to end it with the least possible cost.

Calling it a transaction is a nice way of putting it; in reality, it's his way of apologizing.

"Okay."

Matthew readily agreed, because both sides knew perfectly well that this was just a setup.

Matthew was able to run over so calmly and sit down with him leisurely to drink beer.

They clearly had the confidence all along.

Mephisto's willingness to apologize already shows that he is trying to make amends, while Matthew did not make unreasonable demands.

Because he didn't trust the old man.

Mephisto may be average in terms of strength in this universe, but he is definitely top-notch when it comes to scheming, playing tricks, and disgusting people.

Putting aside whether Mephisto would be willing or not, even if he were, Matthew wouldn't dare accept any powerful items, weapons, or magical knowledge that Mephisto might offer him.

Who knows what's going on here?

In this universe, scientists cannot underestimate it, nor can curses and contracts.

You could easily fall into a trap if you're not careful.

So Matthew only asked for the soul of a high-ranking demon.

The souls of high-ranking demons are extremely rare.

Only lords of Mephisto's caliber have a lot of talent, so giving one away wouldn't be a big deal.

Matthew can use the souls of high-ranking demons to unlock the top-tier fruits in the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia.

Both parties were very satisfied.

Then the old fox and the young fox almost put their arms around each other's shoulders and started drinking like buddies.

I noticed that Carter's expression was strange.

Mephisto was quite pleased that the little brat named Casillas had actually given him the cold shoulder.

Relying on Dormammu's backing, he came to his territory and found him, arrogantly demanding that Mephisto delay Matthew.

Mephisto didn't react at the time and even agreed in a gentle tone.

Will he continue to indulge this puppet-like idiot?

They might as well just throw it away as a bargaining chip to curry favor with Matthew, even at the cost of his high-level demon soul.

If this idiot wasn't already dead, and his soul wasn't Dormammu's, he would have thrown the fool's soul into hell and tormented him for ten thousand years.

It seems somewhat comical that Mephisto keeps suffering losses at Matthew's hands.

However, this only applies to Matthew; to others, he remains the same terrifying demon king.

Matthew and Mephisto were having a pleasant chat over drinks.

Meanwhile, at the island base in the South Pacific, more than fifty warriors from the two warbands had already set off on their journey to find King Mordo and the group of mages.

In addition, more than a hundred warriors were dispatched to various parts of the world to cooperate with the mages in driving away and killing other dimensional life forms that had suddenly come to Earth to cause trouble.

Rachel, Natasha, and Nigley all left.

As a result, the island base was completely empty in Casillas's eyes, with perhaps only a few people left to guard it.

So on that night...

Several fanatics from the Dark Mage Order formed by Kaecilius "broken" the magical barrier at the island base and infiltrated it.

Two men and two women.

The two women had short, light brown hair and short blonde hair, while the two men were a muscular man with a full beard and blond hair, and a dark-haired Asian man.

Wearing the iconic yellow mage robes.

We stepped onto the beach at the island base.

The base was very quiet at night; apart from the sound of the waves, there were almost no other sounds.

The four of them successfully set foot on the island and didn't feel anything was wrong.

The four exchanged a glance and silently made their way into the island base.

The destination is very clear.

They quickly infiltrated and found the person they were looking for.

The Demon of the Witch's Heart.

Wu Xinmo has been treated quite well lately because he's been cooperative and obedient.

They did provide me with a separate place to live.

Located just outside the training ground, the detached house is over 100 square meters and is fully equipped with water and electricity facilities, as well as snacks and drinks.

This was the request of the Witchheart Demon herself.

Perhaps it was because he had spent a lot of time with Reich and the others that he became very interested in some human foods, especially mint-flavored potato chips and oranges.

As for things like whiskey and red wine, Wu Xinmo has no interest in them.

I've recently reportedly become a fan of a British comedy.

Unfortunately, Wu Xinmo doesn't have much time to rest, and her TV series viewing is only sporadic.

Under the moonlight, the houses outside the training ground looked particularly striking.

The four fanatics had just arrived a few meters outside the house, and before they could even go inside, a female fanatic with short, light brown hair reached out and blocked her companions.

She stared ahead and said in a deep voice, "There is a magical barrier here."

Chapter 160 Astartes Powered Armor (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

“Cracking it shouldn’t take long,” the other three enthusiasts said decisively.

One of them pulled out something with a rather strange shape, resembling a pocket watch.

It had the same dark markings on the foreheads of several people.

This was the tool used to break through the magical barrier surrounding the base.

It was bestowed by the great Dark Lord Dormammu.

However, before the fanatics could act, the door to the house was unexpectedly opened.

Wu Xinmo, dressed in a somewhat comical floral shirt and beach shorts, walked out carrying a long glass full of juice and a straw in his mouth.

Standing within the barrier's range, looking at the uninvited guests before him, his pale, handsome face wore an expression of utter disbelief.

"You idiots, you're interrupting my binge-watching."

The Demonic Witch is still the same Demonic Witch, with an arrogant attitude.

He looked down on these few puppet-like minor characters.

The fanatics were unconcerned. None of them felt anger or fear; they were machines, willing to die to complete the mission.

They believe that death is just the beginning of a new life.

The great Lord of Darkness will resurrect them and grant them new life.

"Son of Mephisto, are you willing to be imprisoned here forever?"

"Don't you hate the people who imprisoned you?"

"That's what the female fanatic said coldly."

"so what?"

“We can cooperate.”

"Cooperation?" Wu Xinmo looked amused, then pointed behind these idiots and gestured, "Or, see what's behind you?"

The four fanatics were startled, their muscles tensed instantly, their hands formed hand seals, and they immediately turned around.

As soon as they turned around, the four people stared wide-eyed.

Because behind him, where there should have been no one, a group of people had suddenly appeared.

There are several hundred of them.

Arranged in two distinct square formations, the Astartes stood solemnly under the moonlight, clad in heavy Gothic armor with a matte black base and gilded trim.

The dark gold, aged texture exudes a sense of deathly stillness, solemnity, and iron-blooded holiness. The scarlet eye lights glow faintly behind the helmet visor, the only living light in this cold armor.

The shoulder armor was square and sturdy, with an inverted cross pattern engraved on the outside. Several special strips of paper hung on it; these were magical artifacts, pure marks specifically designed to target demons and negative forces.

The breastplate is decorated with layered eagle wing reliefs, and the edges and seams of the armor are adorned with gilded piping.

A dark brown cloth battle skirt hung down from her waist, her leg armor was thick and solid, her knee armor was marked with a circular emblem, and she was equipped with uniquely designed firearms at her waist.

The Astartes wielded various weapons, some greatswords, some battle axes, and some spears. Though their weapons were not standard, their combined weight and oppressive aura made it almost impossible for the four fanatics to breathe.

The other side was much simpler: a red overcoat and cape, a combat shirt made of special material underneath, leather pants and Martin boots, a gun hanging at the waist, and a long scythe, spear and cross sword hanging on the back.

The magical patterns on the clothes are numerous and complex, but very faint, so they don't ruin the overall look of the clothes and make them appear more exquisite.

These women, with their tall figures and elegant demeanor, possess a beauty that is both striking and powerful.

Like a group of Valkyries, their aura was in no way inferior to that of the armored warriors on the other side.

Without a doubt, the previously lifeless hearts of the four fanatics wavered.

It is fear.

The focused gazes of those who looked at the dead, the vast difference in their life levels, and the overwhelming force of the combined military might—even unconsciously—devastated the four fanatics.

The once fearless fanatics were also shattered.

Not to mention these few fanatics, even Wu Xinmo couldn't help but click his tongue and shudder.

He knew all too well that any one of them here could fight him for a long time.

They were all monsters.

Now they are a group, still wearing armor and combat suits. Wu Xinmo has no doubt that this army would be an extremely powerful force even if thrown into hell.

Every demon lord would covet it.

They wished they could have it all.

Well, these four idiots are enjoying treatment that even he didn't get.

I don't know whether to call it luck or misfortune.

"Damn it, Zara, let's go."

The black-haired Asian fanatic had already realized it was a trap, so he yelled to wake his companions and then quickly cast a spell to try and open a way out for them.

It's not that he was so great or willing to sacrifice himself.

Rather, it was extreme rationality that led him to make the most advantageous judgment and choice.

Unfortunately, the fanatic discovered that no matter how he tried to cast the spell, he couldn't activate the magic.

Unable to use magic, a sorcerer is only slightly stronger than an ordinary person.

Compared to the warriors of the Astartes and Ravens, they were simply easy prey.

A warrior at the very front of Astartes walked over with seemingly heavy yet effortless steps. With each step his massive, nearly two-meter-tall frame took, the sense of oppression increased.

Several fanatics' hearts were pounding.

The warrior walked up to the fanatics, holding a huge battle axe, looking down at them from his elevated position, his eyes fixed on the group through the narrow red visors of his helmet.

With his other hand outstretched, the heavy metal gauntlet opened wide and grabbed the Asian male fanatic's head.

They lifted him up by hand.

Seeing this, the other three fanatics suppressed their fear, drew their magic daggers from their waistbands, and launched a barrage of attacks on the armored warrior in front of them.