Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

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There are many ways to make a person better. You can make him read, exercise, and then throw him a goal. Five years as long and three years as short. After that, you can see a whole new person.

Of course, the premise is that he has to be willing.

But what if you want to make a world better?

Steve Rogers doesn't know the answer, but he'll keep doing it. Yes, keep doing it.

On Christmas Day 2033, he was in his small home in Queens, New York, watching boring 80s shows on TV.

Unlike everyone else who ditched the TV, it's still a very precious thing to him - he even has a TV that can watch DVDs.

In fact, what is on the TV is not important to him, only one thing is important, he does not want to let the home be silent at this time.

He doesn't talk much when he's alone, and if, on a day like Christmas, Steve thinks his house is still silent...that would be tragic.

People always have to find reasons for themselves or do whatever they want to escape the tragic reality.

Well, Steve wasn't really miserable, he was just alone.

Old friends start families one after another, and the world no longer needs their superheroes in fancy clothes. When people's lives are prospering, they also sweep old antiques like them into the garbage heap of history. In other words, Steve is now retired.

It's not that no one has invited him, Tony, Clint...even Thor, who is far away in space, has mentioned whether to go to the Centaur galaxy together. But he refused all of them. Now the old man just wanted to stay in his own house and cook for himself.

But just as he was cooking the turkey, the doorbell rang. Steve was a little surprised, who came back to find him? Is it promoted? Does anyone really work at Christmas?

Wiping his hands on his apron, Steve came to the door, opened the door, and saw someone he had never thought of.

"...what?!"

"What? Are you not welcome to come in and sit?"

The person who came was the mage he had not seen for a long time, and he still looked the same. The same handsome, even the clothes he wears have not changed much.

Steve turned sideways to let him in, scratched his head, and said with a smile, "When did you come back?"

"Just now... Seriously, Steve. Traveling between worlds is not convenient now." He Shenyan didn't need to remind him, and He Shenyan changed it from Steve's shoe cabinet. A pair of clean slippers.

"Just as Tony can fly around his Hawaiian Islands in a private jet when he has nothing to do, I can travel between the worlds when I have nothing to do," he said with a smile.

"Hmm." Steve asked as he closed the door, "So, you also have a world shuttle or something like that?"

"It's almost there." The mage stretched and sat down on Steve's sofa. Noticing that classic eighties TV show, he clicked his tongue.

"Your taste in this area never disappoints, Steve."

"which aspect?"

"Retro."

Steve, who was back in the kitchen, rolled his eyes: "I'm an old man, Ho. You can't ask an old man born in 1918 to adapt to the trend."

"But you don't look old at all." He Shenyan, who was sitting on the sofa, turned his head and looked at Steve with a wicked smile. "To be honest, when you went to the bar, did any young girl ask you for contact information?"

"...that's two different things," Steve replied as he stuffed the roast chicken into the oven.

"No, that's the same thing." He Shenyan shrugged. "Anyway, I'm surprised what you did."

"Have you seen it all?"

"That's natural - I'm not blind." He Shenyan was very emotional.

"Who would have thought that on Christmas Day in New York in 2033, there will be no homeless people on the streets?"

"How do you think they're going to introduce you to future kids? Captain America, Steve Rogers. Then put a blue mark under the word "America" ​​and add a link. It's going to take a long time for the kids to click into it. Know what kind of country America is."

"I'd rather they didn't introduce me, and they didn't introduce America."

Steve washed his hands. He leaned against the kitchen wall and watched the old TV show on the TV: "Let the past be gone, I'm just an ordinary person now."

"Well, ordinary Mr. Steve Rogers, where are you from?"

"Newspaper."

"Newspaper?"

"Yeah, The New York Times. I have a spare job in it, um, it's not quite accurate to say that. I'm a special correspondent. When I have nothing to do, I write social reports, focus on current affairs and so on."

"You won't ask for a ghostwriter, will you?"

"What do you mean?"

"As far as I know, you joined the military very early... Can someone read what you wrote?"

"Hey!" Steve exclaimed angrily. "I have studied literature well in the university!"

"Then I really underestimate you. Well, I apologize." He Shenyan said with a smile.

Small talk and supper continued into the latter half of the night, and they were very chatty. From time to time, Steve asks questions about other worlds, but what interests him most is the well-being of the local people.

"So, that's a medieval world?"

"Ah, not too bad. There's just some magic in it."

"I can think of how the local people's livelihood is."

"You can lower your standards a bit further."

"You don't seem like the kind of person who can tolerate some idiots riding on the heads of ordinary people to make a fortune. Tell me, what have you done?"

"I didn't do anything."

The unexpected answer made Steve frown. "What?"

"Okay, Steve, it's like this." He Shenyan said patiently. "I can't overthrow the king all of a sudden - it's still too early for them to think that everyone is equal. And it's obviously not the right thing to do. Especially in a world full of magic, you want to promote equality for everyone. Ideas are hard to come by.”

"Because no matter what you do, those who have magic and power will not treat the people at the bottom as human beings. Alas, it's too far. To put it bluntly, every world has its laws, and I have always followed them. The rule is not to interfere in their historical process without authorization."

"Of course... Sometimes, when they go too far, I don't mind going out and killing a few kings." He said this with a smile.

Steve nodded thoughtfully: "I see..."

Looking at the expression on his face, He Shenyan jokingly said, "You don't want to extract something from my words and write it down in your notebook."

Steve just looked at him.

The smile on He Shenyan's face disappeared: "...you can't, right?"

Two minutes later, they came to Steve's study. Red flags are hoisted here, from the jungles of South America to Africa, from the eastern land to the vast permafrost next to her. The photos of the great people and pioneers were carefully framed and hung on the walls of the study.

"Das Kapital" in German, "Anthology" in Chinese... Any book about red that you can find on the market can be seen in his bookcase.

"To be honest, I really didn't expect that the booklet I casually threw to you back then could have such a big impact on you." He Shenyan said strangely.

"Is that bad?" Steve asked. "Honestly, it's only after reading these books that I realize how wrong we've been in the past."

He sat on the table and sighed: "And the most tragic thing is that our people can't even see the truth - the government-controlled media firmly controls everything, and they start watching TV from a young age, the TV tells Everything about them."

"Anything, anything outrageous, as long as it is said through the media, it will become true. It's ridiculous." Steve shook his head. "I have to admit one thing, the U.S. government is really dying."

As he spoke, there was a look of hatred on his face: "He, you can never imagine what disgusting things their bastards have done. That's the first time in my life that some people don't deserve to live. , not even worthy of judgment."

I think I know, Steve, I know very well.

He Shenyan didn't speak, he sat behind Steve's desk, staggered on that chair and said, "Forget it, I'm too lazy to sell things... Steve, think about it. Have you come back?"

"Coming back?" Steve was stunned. "Where is the need for superheroes now? Even Frank is retired! Now he's catching thieves every day.... What do you want me to do?"

"Of course it's another world." He Shenyan smiled slightly.

"That place should really need you, Captain of the People, Steve."

Steve didn't make any comments on the strange title of People's Captain. He pondered for a while, then made a gesture to He Shenyan to continue: "Let's talk about it, but unfortunately I thought you were just thinking about it. An old friend."

"One thing in advance, Steve."

The smile on He Shenyan's face disappeared, replaced by a serious expression. He said slowly: "That place is very dangerous, very dangerous."

"I haven't said whether to go or not."

The mage just smiled - I don't know you yet?

-------------------------------------

"Please! Wait a minute! Wait a minute..."

Before the angel could finish his words, Frank twisted his legs and pulled them out, using these two angels' thighs as clubs to kill another angel who was rushing towards him. The guy's head flew out horizontally, drawing an arc in the air, and before it landed, it was burned to ashes by the scarlet flames that appeared out of thin air.

In Frank's mind, a voice was speaking.

"Why do they keep you waiting?"

I don't know, everyone likes to tell me their last words like that.

"Angels are not human."

Yes.

They are not people.

Between the killings, Frank looked up at the sun-like thing hanging in the heavenly sky. He already knew what it was - a soul melting pot.

For thousands of years, angels have continuously threw human souls into it, calcined into the energy they depend on for survival, and the seeds for the birth of new angels. Some of them will not be thrown into the furnace, but will be used by the angels as bargaining chips with the devils of hell. They exchange the souls of the good for the sins of the wicked.

Have fun.

As for why?

Frank doesn't care. He never cared about that. He has killed too many people, and many people will say before they die that they have a big family to support, and Frank has always just sneered in return.

Yeah, you've got a family to support - that's not a fucking reason for you to kill people, kidnap women, rob and sell drugs.

Besides, anyone knows one thing, the punisher won't come to you if you're just petty theft. If he finds you, you must be a goddamn bastard.

This piece of stuff that I don't know who came up with quickly became the truth among his fans, and many times, even if he suddenly broke into the tavern and killed a person drinking in it, no one would trouble him. They'll just yell that this guy must have committed a serious crime.

Frank finds this scary at times, so he usually spends a lot of time investigating and targeting before he strikes. He would only take action when he was sure that the person must die. This behavior also brought him some convenience in the police station.

Half of the NYPD officers wanted to give him a medal, and the other half wished they didn't meet him or risk losing their jobs by turning a blind eye.

To him, the angels be damned, that's all.

So with a cold face, he started killing in heaven. If a mortal priest sees this scene, his heart will be broken, but Frank will not, he will only continue to kill.

After an unknown amount of time, he stopped. The voice said in his head, "Okay, boss. I'm sure you killed them all... mate, I have to admit, you probably could have done this without me."

"Without you giving me their location, the efficiency will be slower."

"Oh, so I'm just a radar?" It hurts up, but the next second it's upbeat. "But it's not bad! Just like the chip in your memory, I'm your partner now."

"...you better not think of yourself as someone like him." Frank said after a moment of silence. "He died, I killed him."

"Uh......."

Frank turned a blind eye to the embarrassment. He threw the angel wings in his hand to the ground and said, "Anyone who worked with me is dead, and the chip is the one I have worked with for the longest time. If you really look After finishing my memory, you should know one thing, I am a Lonely Scorpio."

It said with some frustration: "Okay, boss. But it's okay to be dead, I'm not alive anyway."

"Really?" Frank's voice actually brought a smile. "It's a good thing, the dead don't die again."

"Do you know how to get to hell?" He brought up another thing.

"Wow, boss, you're really non-stop... well, since it's your request." It was a little surprised, but still complied with Frank's request and opened a portal to hell . Before leaving heaven, Frank sets a fire. Burn this damn place down.

As for those confused human souls......a golden light flashed by, and they disappeared without a trace.

Going through the portal wasn't great, but Frank had been through worse. Like being beaten up by an ugly rotting monster that looked like a vampire-bat hybrid that had been buried in the ground for months. A few of the maggots on the thing's hands even landed in his mouth.

So he can bear it.

The scene of hell is roughly the same as those depicted in religious books—blood-red sky, poisonous air, and a land full of corpses. The smell of sulfur roams the world, accompanied by constant screams and pleadings, especially the wild laughter of the demons.

"I said... You should have other uses besides being a radar for me." Frank asked suddenly.

"Uh, boss, what do you want?"

"gun."

"what?"

"Gun," Frank repeated. "A .45 caliber pistol, or a Colt revolver. It would be better if you could create a fully automatic firepower. Bazooka, grenades, dynamite... I'm open to anyone."

"........"

After a moment of silence, two black pistols appeared in Frank's hands, and he heard them say, "Your favorite pistols, as copied from your memory. Uh, weird to say that. But they are .45 caliber. Yes, capable of firing your kind of fire as bullets."

As Frank opened the safety and loaded it, he asked, "Do I need to change the magazine?"

"Need not."

"Will it overheat?"

"Neither—it's something I made! Boss, you should have some confidence in me! Since we're both grasshoppers on a rope now."

"I'm not a grasshopper, and neither are you. And we're not standing on the rope." Frank took a deep breath, raised his pistol, and tried to aim.

"You really have no sense of humor, do you, boss?"

"A sense of humor is for the living," Frank said lightly.

Then he jumped up, and in the next second, he appeared 100 meters away and smashed a demon's head. The two guns in his hands were fired again and again, and the bullets composed of scarlet flames flew in the air of hell and penetrated into the brains of the demons, bringing them the most terrifying curse.

It was still screaming in Frank's head: "Oh! That's it! Boss! Kill as much as you want!"

"To shut up."

"Well, you can't have all the fun alone, boss. I mean, you're having fun, and I'll have to vent too."

Frank shot a demon in the head while dodging the flames it spewed from its mouth. This bullet made of flames is so powerful that it is said to be .45 caliber, which is not much different from a rocket launcher in his opinion. Just wiping it, that guy's ugly big head exploded.

And the aftermath of this bullet even knocked out half of the head of a hapless demon standing behind it.

"Forget it, I'm quite happy looking at it." It muttered a few words, and then shouted: "The Punisher is here! The demons of hell!"

"They can't hear what you're saying—actually, you better shut up the fuck up."

-------------------------------------

Still that space.

"If the bureaucrats in the empire were as efficient as you, I wouldn't be nauseated when I saw them." Seeing He Shenyan's first glance, the emperor began to sigh.

"It's just good luck - find four first, how do you plan to arrange these four generals?" He Shenyan replied with a smile.

"Sean is not in a hurry, he can be used as a backhand."

Into the 'work' state, the Emperor looked more serious than usual. He said: "Bruce Wayne, a master of intelligence warfare and infiltration operations, has extraordinary willpower, paranoia, and extraordinary intelligence. I intend to let him deal with the hidden gang of Tzeentch believers."

"Hey? Are you serious? How do you say that, the development of everything is Tzeentch's arrangement, so you're not afraid that he will eat and wipe the Primarch who just got it?"

The Emperor scolded only seventy words of swear words, and for the sake of his image, I will not write it out.

Then, he said, "If He really has that ability, what are we going to do? Who wouldn't talk big?"

"Frank Custer."

Reading this name, even the Emperor sighed: "I plan to send him to deal with the bureaucrats of the Empire."

He Shenyan half-jokingly said when he heard his plan: "Then you'd better give him an indicator, such as how many people he can kill all year round. Otherwise, I'm worried that he will kill those idiots below you after a few years. All killed."

"Even if you kill them all, the efficiency will not be lower anyway. These bastards, the effective time of an order can be delayed for 40 years from the issuance!" The emperor was quite gnashing his teeth.

He continued: "Also, he will do it after an investigation."

"As for that servant of the people you just recruited." The Emperor sighed again. "I'm going to introduce him to my son who just got up and get to know him. The two of them should have a lot of common language."

He Shenyan supported his face with his left hand and said casually, "The troubles of happiness, right?"