Marvel Book of Magical Events

If anyone is the best history professor in the world, then Enoch is definitely up there. He seems to be content to record what he sees and hears in words and videos. The language Enoch uses is straightforward and objective, rarely adding personal emotions and judgments. This is what Constantine asked of it, to record history. "I don't know why you are so optimistic." Enoch's voice was as straightforward and plain as his words, without any emotion. "Historians are a job for future generations. Do you think S.H.I.E.L.D. Can the agent’s mission continue our future?”

"No, I was never optimistic that Agents of SHIELD could get the job done."

Constantine remained on his feet for twenty-six hours, during which time he supervised the Rangers loading thermonuclear weapon warheads and the servitors needed to maintain the weapons into the warehouse, using a key that S.H.I.E.L.D. The armor completely sealed it, and finally he held the ignition key in his own hands. The Emperor determined that Agent Coulson would never reveal the location of the base to the US government's re-established S.H.I.E.L.D., but in order to increase his leverage, a small-yield nuclear warhead capable of destroying the entire base and turning all data into ashes was delivered. Got here.

"Although you have lived on the earth for a long time, you do not always see destruction. We are wandering on the edge of extinction every day, and the old fears will always threaten our survival." Constantine is still energetic. The abundant, heavy paperwork simply couldn't dull his sanity. In fact, after overseeing the transportation, installation, activation and maintenance procedures of thermonuclear warheads, he could still find time to practice the garrison spear that had become one with him. "So do we have a future?" the Guards Commander said to himself, imitating the emotional tone that ordinary people should have, "Yes, I'm sure. Even if SHIELD agents fail in their mission, they are just continuing One way in the future, as long as they can provide enough information, we can find corresponding solutions."

"This is called optimism." Enoch reminded, "My sentiment analysis module is calibrated and will never go wrong."

"I don't care." The guard commander took off his gorgeous golden helmet and exposed his cold face to the circulating air cleaned by static electricity. He arranged Enoch in the most secure room at the lighthouse base, guarded by two heavily armed soldiers of the First Secret Regiment, but Enoch didn't mind this prison-like environment at all, and Constantine didn't care either. Thoughts of feeling sorry. "I came here to ask you something."

"I guessed it. Forgive me for using such inaccurate terms, but I don't think you are interested in hearing the action model I built." The Immortal Man has a weird, straight-forward sense of humor, as if he is imitating humans. Action machine. He quickly stopped this behavior, and even the fake smile squeezed out by the facial bionic muscles disappeared. "I am completing the work you gave me to write down what I saw and heard in the form of a chronicle, so the events you asked me about are most likely related to this matter."

Constantine lowered his head and glanced at the numbers on the holographic projector.

"Maybe, I suggest recalculating, but the complete chaotic system model may burn out your logical processing center, and you can't include the movement of every atom in the calculation." He took out the data pad and put it on Enoch before. The Immortal took a look and saw that the dataslate contained a picture of a young dark-haired woman, laughing. As Constantine moved his fingers, photos of this woman wearing clothes from different eras were revealed, with different clothes, different figures, and even different hairstyles. "Using technology to simulate the environment of this target may help you conduct screening," he said. "We are using this system extensively to track down criminals."

"You mean, except for the first picture, all the other pictures are fake?"

"The answer the computer gives is helpful, just like a psychological profile," Constantine said. "Do you have this facial data in your database?"

"who is she?"

"I can't say, Enoch."

"I have the right to know." Immortal Man protested expressionlessly, "It only needs to be related to the mission. This is our agreement."

"This is another task, a task that has nothing to do with you."

"There is a 67% chance that you have to leave." Enoch suddenly said, "You have to leave the lighthouse base."

"There is nothing I can do here." Constantine said calmly, "All plans are on track, and the SHIELD agent team is undergoing training. If they can successfully bring back the news, then we can do it as best we can. Take targeted measures quickly, and if they can't, then..."

"Thermonuclear warhead?"

"That is the last resort. We must eliminate all interference options if my master overestimates Agent Coulson's responsibility for his mission." Constantine said, "Judging from past experience, such preparations are effective. Necessary, He wants to believe Agent Coulson but I don't."

"So this is your order?"

"Yes."

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"This will be the last time you look at pictures of women at dinner."

Jeanne handed Salomon a hand-rolled cigarette and a full glass of wine, allowing the latter to snatch the data pad away from him. The dining table was full of people. Joan of Arc and Bayonetta sat on either side of him, Millia sat on his lap, and the Cheshire Cat sat on Millia's lap, facing each other every moment. The food on the table launches a tentative attack. To be honest, the dinner at the manor dazzled Lara Croft. She didn't know how Salomon maintained the three jobs of sharing food, feeding girls and chasing away cats at the same time. Now the black-haired witch lit a cigarette for him again. , which made him look even busier.

To be honest, Lara Croft thought she would really like this dinner atmosphere.

A large amount of food was placed on the table, and everyone shared the food and wine intimately. Steam and smoke lingered over the table, dimming the brilliance of the spectacular crystal chandelier into a ball of golden sunlight. This is not a cold eminence elaborately decorated with jewels, gold and luxury goods. The flamboyant wealth is just the embellishment at their feet. What really fills the table is a kind of warmth that melts in the eyes, noisy whispers and kisses. passion and elegance.

And, of course, beauty and nobility.

Look at the tableware here. During the Sun King's time, only the Palace of Versailles provided plates and knives and forks. The soup pot placed on the table was once used to hold feasts dedicated to the gods. The bowl comes from the Ru porcelain kiln of the Song Dynasty. They use these tools very naturally and nonchalantly, as if they were born to do so. They are the masters of these priceless things, and the cultural relics seem to become more valuable because of their use rather than the other way around.

At the dinner table they would talk about the stars, alchemy, science, art and dizzying philosophy, about writing, painting, gunpowder and metals. Their topics are huge and complex, and there is no obvious gap between knowledge and knowledge. It is as if all the knowledge created by human beings is integrated into their speech and exists in some kind of rhythm that ordinary people cannot detect - this kind of A noble attitude is far more valuable than adding a title to your name, buying a castle, or attending a social event. What makes Lara Croft even more envious is the intimate attitude between Salomon and the Witch. The Witch's close-fitting silk nightgown perfectly outlines her plump hips and slender waist, just like Aphrodite. Anyone walking out of the sea will be moved by such beautiful scenery. Their mere existence is the embodiment of lust.

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