Marvel Book of Magical Events

Mr. Reese sat in the driver's seat with a face full of resignation. He watched the co-pilot Salomon Damonette inspecting a firearm with an exaggerated caliber, and the bullets matching the gun were also surprisingly large.

Former CIA agents believed that this gun is not something that humans can use, because this gun has no rear grip and buttstock, and the recoil when used is enough to tear the wrists of ordinary people alive.

but salomon is no ordinary man

As if aware of the eyes of his companions, Salomon shook the gun in front of Mr. Reese. The finely carved patterns on the gun showed that this gun was not a mass-produced product. This is the prototype of a bolt weapon, he said. I commissioned the best craftsman to build this weapon. It took almost a month just to design and stabilize this gun. The designer is not human, and the material used is magic metal. Mr. Reaser, you also know that the threats you and I face are different.

I don't think the Chitauri's head can withstand this kind of bullet. Mr. Riise said softly. It's not that he hasn't encountered strange protection targets. Since Finch, that is, Mr. Harold, came to him, every time the machine spit out a social security number, it meant that Mr. Reaser was going to protect someone.

This person may be a victim or a perpetrator, and his mission is to prevent murder from happening.

What we are going to face is ordinary humans. Your weapons are too exaggerated. Our purpose is not to kill people, but to solve your troubles.

I'm grateful for the reminders from you and your companions, but I also have reasons for my own troubles. I don't have a gun, and you won't let me wear a long knife (I think that's worse than a gun! Finch muttered into the headset), so I can only use the only weapon I have. One shot of this thing will let them know that I have messed with the wrong person-not to mention magic, I will not use magic in front of these people. And don't forget you owe me a magic blanket, Mr. Reese.

The former CIA agent took a deep breath, turned his head away, and continued to monitor the seedy bar across the street. Even when the night was dark, he could see those people clearly.

Salomon was indeed in trouble, but these threats were from ordinary people, and Mr. Harold's system could not distinguish wizards, or it would not have spit out Salomon Damonette's social security number. It now appears that Salomon does not need help, but Mr. Reaser also wants to solve the problem without killing people.

He meant the gangsters' lives, not Salomon's, and Mr Reaser thought no one could threaten a wizard, or a man with a high-bore, rocket-propelled bullet gun.

Finch, how much do you think a magic blanket is worth?

I don't know, even if our Mr. Wizard is willing to charge dollars, the price of a magic blanket will be ridiculously high.

Mr Reaser sighed again, trying to remember how things had gotten so bad.

Salomon opened the metal briefcase and carefully checked the documents inside. After he read it slowly, he gave Agent Grant Ward a reply. I agree to Agent Coulson's conditions. He let the artificial man untie Agent Ward's hands, I will contact him when necessary.

What about this person? Agent Ward pursed his lips and rubbed his wrists. Although he still has some doubts, as an agent, he has already developed the habit of not asking questions. He glared at Mr. Reese, who was tied to another chair, I can see that he is a professional, he is the same kind of person as I am. Do you need me to help you deal with him?

Mr. Reese didn't take Agent Ward's words to heart. He glanced at the artificial human—Dinah, a girl who didn't appear in the information. It seemed that Salomon Damonette had a good relationship with women. And now it seems that Salomon Damonet has a deep connection with the secret service organization S.H.I.E.L.D. Because of this, he was unable to obtain the information in Salomon's mobile phone, so that he had to sneak into the house to find clues.

Then fell into the current situation.

Maybe it was because of his close ties to the Secret Service that the machine gave the hint? It looks like he's in big trouble.

No, Agent Ward, I'll take care of this. Also, remember to bring a bag of cookies before you leave. This is the work of my maid, and I have to taste it. The mystic returned Agent Ward's miniature earphones to him. You call Agent Coulson now and ask him to tell Nick Fury—evacuate the surveillance personnel now, or wait to find them in the Pacific Ocean. I won't give your agents life buoys.

Agent Ward gave Salomon a suspicious look, then followed the mystic's instructions. After the call, he nodded, indicating that Salomon's request had been fulfilled. After the android sent Agent Ward out of the apartment, the mystic began to ask questions to the man in the suit sitting across from him.

There are many creatures who want my life, but none of them are human. I don't think you seem to have any connection with the wizarding world. Why did you come to me? Oh, and I am also asking your companions...

We think you will be in trouble, life-threatening trouble, Mr. Damonette. We are here to help you, although the current situation seems to be that you don't need help... May I ask if you can release my partner first, and I promise to tell you everything. The voice from the earphone said, I promise, we have no malicious intentions.

Very good. Salomon glanced at the man in the suit and cast a spell to make sure that he was not malicious. He untied Mr. Reese, and returned the earphones to him, I'll wait for your explanation, this will determine your outcome.

After a short self-introduction and explanation, Salomon roughly understood what Mr. Reese and his companion, Mr. Harold, were doing.

It's a noble thing, sir, to save an innocent life. I don't know where you got the news, but I'm sure no one paid you.

The mystic asked the artificial man to pour a cup of black tea for Mr. Reese, I have taken many lives, all of which belonged to black magic creatures. Except for the first time, I had to... Later, I no longer have the lives of ordinary people in my hands. At least there are no innocent lives of ordinary people. I think it's better not to talk too much.

Mr. Reese looked at Salomon's face expressionlessly, assessing the veracity of what the high school student in front of him said. He's an agent, he doesn't trust people so easily - he's made this mistake many times.

John, most of the surveillance personnel have been evacuated, and only a few people have not left. I think they are the reason why the machine gave Salomon's social security number... I contacted Officer Carter and asked her to help me investigate these people. Finch observed the evacuation of SHIELD agents through the camera on the opposite side of the building. He said, But I have roughly guessed the identities of these people, I am afraid they are our old friends. Sorry, I still can't access his mobile phone. His mobile phone has strong protection measures...

I see. Mr. Reese glanced at the phone, It seems that our good student got into a gang. Salomon Damonette, are you connected with illegal transactions?

Why do you ask? I don't need to commit crimes to get money. The mystic lied shamelessly, as if he had never done anything to steal money from a bank. The only thing I have to do with crime is to break the legs of a few punks who tried to knock on my door to sell cocaine... maybe more than a few, I cleaned up all the punks around the apartment.

This is a high-end apartment, and there are many rich people...

Now I know where his troubles come from. He prevented the drug market from entering the high-end neighborhood. Mr. Reaser put down his teacup and stood up. I have to warn those people before they die. Salomon is not a victim, he is a perpetrator. I have to find a way to get rid of him...

I don't think those criminals will accept your suggestion, John. Finch said, They will only think that you are with him. Salomon Damonette has caused those punks to be disabled for life. The huge operation fee is not something they can afford.

That's why I'm keeping them away from here...

You should know that I can hear what you are saying? Salomon pointed to his ear, You can understand it as magic or something, but I heard your conversation.

Mr. Reese stared at the mystic, and Salomon continued, The gangsters should be the bosses of those gangsters. If you don't warn them, they will break into my apartment like you sooner or later.

Don't worry, I won't kill them, there are rules for what I do unless... So, Mr. Finch, I think I can handle this myself. At the same time, I have to meet with you and ask you to sign a non-disclosure contract about magic, otherwise I can only modify your memories. Mr. Reaser, you go first.

Harold sighed.

Ask for a recommendation ticket! ! !