I Have a Good Impression on Marvel

"It's really good!"

"Welcome!"

Seeing Skye and Simmons hugging excitedly, and Fitz grinning, Leon also raised the corners of his mouth, revealing a faint smile.

Yes, Skye accepted Coulson's proposal after all.

When Coulson announced in front of everyone that Skye would join the team and serve as an advisor, everyone's reaction was very different.

Simmons and Fitz were very happy.

After all, Skye is about the same age as the two, with a friendly and lively personality, and likes to make jokes or something, much better than Ward and Melinda May who always have a straight face...

Melinda May, who was the driver, did not protest in front of everyone.

However, judging from her slightly wrinkled brows, it can be seen that she does not agree with another child who can't fight on the plane.

As for Ward, who is most likely to protest, it may be because Skye helped him escape from the underground base before, or because Leon was present and did not file a complaint in public.

However, judging from his constipated expression, Lyon feels that Coulson's dream team still needs some time to run in.

Of course, these things have nothing to do with him...

When "Bus" arrived in the City of Angels, California, Leon said goodbye to everyone.

"Are you leaving so soon? Have another mission?"

Facing Simmons' question, Leon shrugged with a relaxed expression:

"That's not true, there are some personal matters to deal with, so..."

"Alright then, see you next time."

After saying goodbye to the scientific duo, Leon came to Ward, patted him on the shoulder, and said seriously:

"Hey! Dude, protect them..."

Ward was slightly taken aback, and for some reason, he suddenly felt a heavy weight on his shoulders.

A strong sense of mission surged into his heart, causing him to nod his head with a sullen expression.

"And you, Skye!"

Hearing Leon suddenly calling his name, Skye couldn't help but stare blankly at him.

"I hope that when you meet next time, your perception of S.H.I.E.L.D. will change."

The words that meant something, coupled with that extremely warm smile, made Skye smile and replied softly:

"Will do…"

After saying goodbye to everyone one by one, Leon, who had completed the support task, came gently like a gust of wind, waved his hand, and did not take away a cloud.

. . . . . .

Lincoln, Nebraska.

Leon, who had just said goodbye to Coulson and others, came to a private industrial factory in the suburbs.

And waiting for him there is an "old friend"...

Different from the tranquility of the outside world, a large factory is full of people.

Scientific research equipment can be seen everywhere, researchers in a hurry,

The entire factory area is like a secret large hangar.

In the entire factory area, the most eye-catching thing is not the scientific researchers who come and go, nor the expensive equipment, but a huge, dark and futuristic fighter that is quietly parked in the center!

This is a new type of fighter whose shape is completely different from any fighter in the world.

From the appearance, this fighter is like a swallow soaring in the sky.

Hank Pym, who was wearing a white coat, and several researchers who were also wearing white coats stood beside the fighter plane and pointed at the fighter plane in front of him.

"In order to avoid insufficient power of the turbine engine, an injection device must be installed at the bottom of the fuselage..."

"Also, reflective technology..."

At this moment, a sudden voice came from behind:

"It's exactly the same as I imagined..."

Hearing this, Hank Pym couldn't help but waved away the researchers beside him before turning around.

It was Leon's bright smile that came into view.

Seeing him, Hank Pym said angrily: "Why did you come here? Could it be that you came to rush me?"

Hearing this, Leon quickly waved his hand and denied it strongly: "Hank, how dare I urge you... I just came over to have a look and condolence to you by the way."

Then, as if by magic, Lyon took out a transparent wine from behind with a brand logo printed on the bottle that said "Havana Club (Havana Club)", and raised it to Hank Pym.

"This is the white rum of the Havana Club brewed by the chief brewmaster Don Jones Silva, don't you want to try it?"

Seeing this bottle of wine, Mr. Pym's eyes couldn't help but light up, and his expression suddenly became a lot brighter.

"Humph! It's counted as your acquaintance..."

After laughing and scolding, Hank Pym turned around, waved his hand, and shouted:

"An hour off!"

When all the engineers and researchers left, only Hank Pym and Leon were left in the hangar.

He opened the white rum brought by Lyon, took out two goblets, and poured a glass for each of them. Lyon, who was holding the wine glass, couldn't wait to ask:

"Hank, how's it going?"

Dr. Pym, who seemed to have long expected that Leon would ask such a question, did not answer immediately, but sipped the rum in the glass, closed his eyes, and savored it carefully before saying slowly:

"It's all going great."

"When can I test flight then?" Leon continued to ask.

"If it's fast, it should be a month later, and if it's slow, it should be two months."

Holding the goblet, Leon inadvertently tasted the fine wine in the glass, and all his attention was focused on the huge fighter plane.

After walking around the fighter plane, Leon returned to Hank Pym's side again.

As if noticing the satisfaction in Leon's eyes, Dr. Pym smiled slightly, and then asked, "This big guy, are you still satisfied?"

"Are you joking?!"

Leon spread his hands and made a great response, with an exaggerated tone: "I'm so satisfied that I can't be more satisfied!"

"You know, this is the famous Hank Pym, who made it especially for me, who has such an honor?!"

"Strictly speaking, I didn't build it for you, but you came to me and asked me to help you."

"Hey, it's all the same, don't worry about these little details..."

…

Looking at Leon's funny appearance, the wrinkles on Mr. Pym's face deepened a bit.

For some reason, Dr. Pym always felt at ease when dealing with a young man several rounds of age from Lyon, like two friends communicating.

Perhaps, this is the so-called forgetfulness of the year...

At this time, Leon's voice resounded in his ears again:

"By the way, does it have a name?"

Hearing this, Dr. Pym couldn't help raising his brows and said solemnly, "Of course!"

"Oh, what's it called?"

"Nightwing!"

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