Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

A man was thrown through the wall, and his head hit Rod's barbell. The bloody scene made him frown.

It was one of the five bastards responsible for monitoring him. Rhodes bent down and touched it, taking away the gun from his waist. He quietly walked to the hole in the wall and carefully peeked out.

The living room was dark, and Rhodes heard no sound. Through the moonlight outside, he saw that his living room was in a mess, with the coffee table broken, the sofa flipped over and covered in blood. His large-screen TV was also smashed.

.This tragic situation made his eyelids twitch.

Before he could take the next step, a striking red light lit up in the living room. Rhodes' pupils shrank. He raised his pistol without hesitation, pointed it in the direction of the red light and pulled the trigger repeatedly. But there was no one.

The bullet hit the red light, and he continued to move forward, like a ghost in the darkness. In the blink of an eye, he crashed through the wall, making the hole much larger.

Rhodes immediately stepped back. He grabbed the dumbbell placed aside and swung it towards the attacker's head with the help of inertia and its own weight. However, he was intercepted by a strong hand in mid-air. A mechanical voice sounded:

"Your skills haven't deteriorated yet, Rhodes."

"Who are you? Why do you have special equipment for the Avengers?"

Rhodes frowned, and while he was speaking, he suddenly pulled back the dumbbell with force, trying to move the attacker's center of gravity, but the man did not move at all. Instead, Rhodes, who had exerted all his strength, fell to the ground due to the reaction force.

"Hello, Rod." A familiar voice sounded behind him.

Rhodes looked back and saw Hawkeye holding a longbow, hanging upside down from the floor-to-ceiling window of his gym, looking at him.

"Clint? Why are you here? And you...who are you?" Rhodes looked at him in confusion, then looked back at the attacker who was all in black.

The attacker patted the right side of his helmet, and the mask opened, revealing a face he was so familiar with. Rhodes' tense body suddenly relaxed, and he exhaled: "Captain...you are really awesome."

It was a surprise for me.”

"You'd better call him Steve, Rod." Hawkeye's beaten voice came from the window. He was still hanging upside down outside the window, swinging his body leisurely, like an acrobat.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Rhodes smelled something wrong from Hawkeye's words.

Steve took off his helmet and wiped his hair. He replied briefly: "It's nothing, Rod. It's just that Jack Richard is dead. And now, we are going to settle accounts with the person who ordered his killing. You want to

Come?"

Rhodes looked at Hawkeye and then at Steve. He suddenly grinned, his white teeth very conspicuous: "It just so happens that I also have some accounts to settle with some other people."

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On a rainy night, gunshots were fired continuously.

A gangster squatted behind a crate, holding a cross in his hand and praying devoutly: "Almighty, the only Lord. Please protect me and protect me from the devil..."

Before he could finish his prayer, the man watched with despair as his left hand opened on its own and threw away the cross. He cried and clenched the powerful revolver in his hand, and poked his head out from behind the crate.

But he had just stuck his head out, and before he could shoot, his head was blown open by a flying bullet. His skull was opened, and the bullet rushed through his brain with kinetic energy, splashing out.

Blood and brains splashed all over the floor, and were quickly washed away by the heavy rain.

Frank Custer loved the rain, it washed away the blood.

He was strolling around the pier with the standard assault rifle in his hand. The killings had been going on for most of the night. These bastards who came out of nowhere to take his life blocked his way to support the captain. Frank said to anyone who wanted him

The matter of taking one's own life is not unfamiliar, it can even be said to be very familiar - in fact, in the past few years, most of the people he met wanted to do this.

But the latter, no.

Fortunately, there is no conflict between sending them to hell and finding the captain, and the two things are even somewhat related. Therefore, Frank is very happy to kill them before that. The gun in his hand roars, tongues of fire spurt out, and bullets

Flying out. The flickering firelight illuminated the ferocious smile on his face that never faded, and also illuminated the blood-stained skull on his chest.

His long windbreaker had been soaked by the rain and was dragging on the ground, mixed with the blood. Like the reaper of life, he was killing people on this pier. But as the killing progressed, something strange happened.

The matter gradually came to his attention.

Something is wrong.

Gangsters are usually not so fearless. They are all fearless cowards who only dare to threaten the poor, women and children. Even the most ferocious among them will start to retreat when they see the skull on Frank's chest. But

These people are different, they are indeed gangsters. But from the time the gunshots were fired to now, more than forty of them have died, and Frank was not even hurt.

Faced with this desperate scene, they should have started running away long ago. Instead of running away like this, they not only didn't run away, but actually shot back at him. Even though their aim was ridiculously bad, their expressions were full of excitement.

It's despair.

It was as if something was forcing them.

But, he doesn't care.

The smile on Frank's face became more ferocious. He raised his legs and stepped over the broken upper body of a scumbag who had been hit by three short bursts. The power of the bullets was much greater than people imagined. Frank turned around and fired three more short bursts.

One shot in the abdomen, one in the heart, and one in the head. The gun in his hand and in the hands of these people seemed to be two different things. One could bring death, while the other could only make a sound.

The rain was still falling, even getting heavier. The heavy rain poured down, hitting the ground. The blood was washed away, and the dead people, without exception, all lay on their backs facing the sky. Some of the corpses who were lucky enough to still have eyes were using their soulless eyes to

Looking at the night sky, two dots of red light gradually lit up in the lifeless pupils.

Their blood should have been washed away by the heavy rain, but at this time it was wrapped in the rain, silently forming an inverted pentagram circle around the dock. This evil circle was drawn with the blood and flesh of sinners.

It slowly lit up, and Frank turned around suddenly. He saw that the sky was covered by red light, and the dead bodies stood up again, let out a dull roar, broke through the rain curtain, and rushed towards him.

Frank didn't care and continued to shoot. The red light piercing the sky and the flame of the gun shone on his face, and the smile seemed to be a perfect match. He laughed wildly and roared: "Come on! Kill you again and again."

Why not!"

However, after the corpses were resurrected by the power of darkness, they no longer belonged to humans. Even though they still looked human on the outside, they were completely different on the inside. His bullets did not have the previous effect, and at most they killed the walking corpses.

If you knock someone over, they will get up again soon. Seeing that the bullets have no effect, Frank simply took out three grenades from his waist.

Amidst the deafening explosion, a hand was blown in front of him. Frank looked at the hand expressionlessly, and it was still slowly crawling towards him. Frank pulled out the dagger from his waist, inserted it hard, and struck a blow.

Keep this hand in place.

He did not choose to escape, but his manpower was eventually exhausted. The corpses gradually surrounded him, surrounding him.

The rain continues.