Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

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Transmission between dimensions is not difficult, but precise transmission requires a bit of technical content.

This is not a crossover - for He Shenyan, crossover is not much different from instinct. This is true for any transboundary wizard, but parallel universes are another matter.

However, he ate Sithone's dark dimension, which eased a very big difficulty.

"Mr. He, everything is ready."

The spirit of the Holy of Holies floated down from the ceiling, and the ancient guardian seemed to use the ceiling as her dwelling in some way. The ceiling engraved with countless histories and past brilliance is now where she lives, so it seems that she can feel some of the past.

Creatures are always nostalgic, and people are always happy to do things and live in their familiar circles. The first person to light a flame, the first to explore a new world, is inherently brave. How to be careful about what to do now.

He's going to a parallel world where he doesn't know anything.

"Thank you."

He Shenyan gave her a smile and snapped his fingers. Intricate golden patterns floated down from the ceiling and condensed into tight runes around him. A trace of darkness emerged from him, the dark dimension power of Sithone. They blended with each other and eventually formed a strange white color.

Then, the space was slowly opened.

Strange squinted, for ordinary mages, this scene is tantamount to a miracle, and most of them will try to remember this scene and study it as the goal of the rest of their lives. But to him, these things were completely irrelevant.

"Come back alive," he emphasized. "I'm counting on another movie night, and Tony the bastard. Everyone is—don't die."

"I try my best."

He Shenyan's voice fell, and he jumped into the space crack. The tentacles of the sea beast slowly fell to the ground, and have been washed into crystals by a huge amount of magic. It collided with the carpet, making a dull sound. Strange picked it up, put it on the table beside him, and sighed.

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"I think your plan is a little risky."

"Are you really going to talk about this now?"

"why not?"

The hooded robber stopped,

Viciously waving the pistol in his hand, he said to his companions behind him, "We're almost there! Malcolm, are you out of your mind? Since you think there's something wrong with the plan, why didn't you tell me earlier?!"

The robber known as Malcolm was taken aback, he quickly tightened the ski mask on his face, and at the same time looked around to make sure that there was no one except them on the street late at night, and then he put it down. Come to the heart.

"Didn't it say codename?" he complained. "Also, I've always wanted to say it, but I just couldn't find the opportunity to mention it."

"Fuck your code name! I'm not going to call you Jaguar, it sounds like the name of a bartender, you don't want to be a duck, do you? Also, the code name is for the superheroes and villains. , we're just robbers, earning a little money, and I don't want to be suddenly taken by the Avengers or Luke Cage or something."

The hooded robber said a long list of words in one breath, his racial talent was playing out very smoothly, but his companions had different opinions.

"Do you really think their big guys have time to talk to us?" The man in the ski mask, the robber known as Malcolm, couldn't help sighing. "Come on, man, nobody cares about our lives, including the store we're going to rob."

As he walked, he even thought about his thoughts on the current society: "Only Spider-Man can catch little thieves like us, and only he can help put out fires, find cats, and help find lost pets and so on."

"New York's good neighbor!" The hooded robber seemed to agree with him, nodding his head. "If you want me to say, he's the only one who really cares about people like us. And the little spider is very measured. He won't break people into broken bones and let you use up your credit card in the hospital. He's really not bad. "

"...isn't it a little bit wrong for the two of us to discuss him on the way to the robbery?"

Malcolm tugged at his ski mask again, after realizing it.

He asked, "How much longer? Hurry up, don't take too much this time. Let's just take five hundred dollars and leave."

"Come on, it's on the opposite side. Six hundred, right? I want to buy a new set of clothes."

"Then seven hundred, it just so happens that I also want to buy a new game console."

"Then seven hundred."

They walked through dim streetlights, their boots on the cold streets of New York in winter. A few old newspapers were blown across the street corner by the dank wind, and some homeless homeless groaned in the alley. They gradually approached the store.

It was a hardware store. There is a very stylish sign, which reads: Malik Brothers Hardware Store, your life is a good helper!

"Okay, that's it. Help me out."

"it is good."

Malcolm pulled the pistol from his belt, the cold wind blowing into his thin jacket at this moment, making him shiver. He looked around nervously, it wasn't the first time Malcolm had done something like this, but he was still nervous. He heard his brother picking the lock, the small sound of the keyhole mixed with his nervous breathing.

Then, he heard other voices in the darkness.

Malcolm gripped the pistol nervously, sweat dripping from the palm of his hand, making the grip sticky. Glock's plastic grip is designed to be non-slip, but it still won't hold up to his sweat. A strange feeling suddenly rose in his heart, and the cold wind intensified this feeling.

Is there a voice in the dark?

He listened, breathed lightly, and finally, he heard.

It's like the sound of glass breaking, it's slight, but it's there. But what kind of person would smash glass on the streets of Queens, New York, at 3:00 a.m.?

"What...?"

Malcolm murmured, causing his brother to turn his head in confusion: "What's wrong?"

"There..." Malcolm shivered and pointed his pistol into the darkness. "There's something in there."

"What? Are you crazy?"

His brother stood up suspiciously, listening at the same time as he did, and this time, he heard it too. The two looked at each other and saw the panic in each other's eyes. New York is never peaceful, what happens on the streets late at night?

Their doubts did not last long, for a light burst out in the darkness. It exploded straight, brightening the entire night. Immediately afterwards, a tall, thin man in a black robe stood in front of the two of them.

He is tall and thin. There was no blood on his pale face, his eyes were dark, and there seemed to be debris from the universe floating in it, so deep that it was terrifying. He was handsome, but it was a terrible kind of handsomeness, a kind of handsomeness that transcended human beings.

Malcolm began to tremble, and the man glanced at them both, then at the half-primed lock, and smiled.

"Go home and go to bed, and find a job tomorrow, you two." He grinned and raised his right hand, which was lit with flames. "Go quickly."

Malcolm and his brother ran away screaming.

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