Marvel Book of Magical Events

The crazy woman widened her silly eyes, as if her brain couldn't understand what the man in front of her was doing, why her good friend Salomon put down everything in his hands, and tried to penetrate the fog of her mind with his soul-penetrating eyes.

All he got was straightforwardness, as cold and straightforward as a piece of pure marble.

There is no damp and filth hidden in the folds, only simple and direct thinking. This poor woman, her brain was burned out, her soul was thoroughly baptized by the great power, and her personality was crushed into fine dust by the vast truth. Salomon didn't know what she was like, what kind of personality she had, all he saw was dust covering the marble, as if it only needed a little heavier breathing to erase it.

She became like this because of him. The thought suffocated Salomon.

The reason why this woman became like this was to convey certain messages to him. If he has the support of the universe, the madwoman will be his helper, interpreting visions and visions for him. He's angry, not even when he's on a mission and can't fully save everyone. Everyone he kills has a way of death, every sacrifice he decides has a reason, and every punishment he inflicts is deserved.

Only this incident, the existence of this woman kept reminding him that if he could not complete that grand plan, then everyone might become like this woman, a doll and tool of some gods. He knew very well that the debt was on his head, and he would take good care of her because it was a debt he owed. He wanted to stay away from this woman, not out of disgust, but out of desperation, just like the desperation of a fatalist when facing fate. It was like hot poison flowing through his body, scalding his veins, making him almost nauseous, and the smell of ashes filled his nostrils.

Every advanced civilization will inevitably come into contact with the existence of the spiritual world when it develops to a certain stage. The Shia Empire, which is close to the [Dream Curtain], keeps its people away from the endless malice lurking under the cloak of reality through strict rule, admiration of two primitive gods, and prohibition of artistic creation. But even when they were wandering around, they still did not forget the so-called oracle, wishing to revive the Skrull race on Earth; the Cree intend to solve the problem through scientific means, trace the genetic engineering of the Cree ancestors created by the Celestial Group, and create a super artificial intelligence in charge of the Cree Empire, intending to solve the problem of the spiritual world by ruling the real universe.

In addition, there are many unknown small races, who either embrace the spiritual world and are complacent about the gifts bestowed by another world; or desperately want to resist, and finally completely destroyed, only the orphans survive; or pretend to turn a blind eye to the facts and wait for the destruction to come.

Salomon learned the lessons from those alien races and summed up his own path.

Didn't we agree to watch TV series together, Salomon? The mad woman twisted anxiously on the sofa. Her dusty personality responded flatly, Are we in a no-blink contest?

Yes. The mystic smiled reluctantly. He blinked, regained his composure, dug his despair and emotions out of his brain, crushed them on his fingers like a biscuit, and threw them aside like trash. He straightened his spine again—he would never admit defeat, even if his opponent was a so-called god. This is what he was created for, and this is his eternal duty. He wields his long sword like a miser, trying to drive away any creature that touches the human race and pollutes its purity. He looks down on the Inhumans, because they are just a bunch of bastard slaves; he looks down on the Asgardians who claim to be gods, and thinks they are just a bunch of real plane creatures with crazy blood; he even looks down on the Eternals created by the Celestial Group, thinking that they are just tools used by the Celestial Group to maintain their rule, a group of talking and walking wrenches, and there is no place in their minds that can be called noble.

His watch will be longer than that of the Supreme Sorcerer, and his responsibilities will far exceed all the responsibilities that Karma Taj has carried on to this day. His Holiness had already revealed to him that the plan would not be accomplished so easily - for more than 1,500 years, he would suffer eternal pain in the world and dedicate everything to this race. That's why he's so greedy for everything he loves in life now. He had thought over and over whether what he had done was worth it, but countless prophecies and visions reminded him that he had only one choice. A wizard who doesn't believe in fate ends up walking the path of destiny, which is simply the worst black humor joke he has ever seen.

You lost! The crazy woman shouted happily like a child.

Salomon still kept smiling, but the meaning was completely different from before. His plans might need to be revised, and he was convinced he would be able to find a way. As he told His Holiness, his plan would be meaningless if the number of deities who could control the fate of mankind were reduced from a few to one.

Yes, I lost, he said softly, and what does the winner want?

Praetorian Zero frowned.

His long sword was placed on the weapon rack beside him, and the light armor was covered with traces left when he broke out of the noble library of the Shi'ar Empire. His bolter was disassembled into hundreds of parts, which he wiped and maintained with a soft, oily cloth. On the cabinet next to the weapon rack was the spoils of his last trial. The lockers treated with secret methods could preserve this spoils for a long time. The human-like skull of the Shia nobleman had a bird-like hollow bone, which was spotless and white after pickling. His loyal servant Old Cotta was unfortunately killed at the moment he completed the task, and died at the hands of the Shia nobles that Old Cotta wanted to revenge. Zero regretted that he could not retrieve the servant's body.

Now he believes the words of Old Cucka.

Old Kada had indeed served as an elite soldier of the Shia Empire. Even though he was suffering from long-term malnutrition and illness, he still used the knife given by Zero to kill the noble bodyguard before he died, buying time for the Imperial Guard Zero to retreat to the space port. Guardsman Zero lowered his head and continued to wipe his guns. The horror method taught to him by his master was simply the most common language in the universe. With the super power brought by his genes, he used this bolt gun, which was difficult for ordinary people to lift, to play a huge role in his snatching of the merchant ship, allowing him to hijack the small cargo ship as quickly as possible and arrive at the scheduled evacuation location.

As long as he can complete the next trial, he can put on the golden armor that belongs to him, get a name, and become the real Janissary.

Ask for a ticket!