The Natural Disaster Mixed In Marvel

Chapter 2

"Sir, I'm here." A mechanical male voice sounded.

"Find me that bastard who called me! I'm going to buy the company he works for and tell him to fuck off!"

"enmmm..." Jarvis seemed to be searching for something, "Sorry, sir, I didn't find the place Tundu Street on the map. It seems to be this pseudonym."

Tony Stark said angrily, "Of course I know it's a fake name! No one would call such a stupid name as Tutu Hu! Get me the monitoring!"

"Sir, I have to remind you that this is illegal, and you were the one who first scolded the other party as a poor ghost. According to the logic you gave me, this kind of behavior should be unreasonable."

"Ha!" Tony was a little annoyed by his artificial mental retardation, "Who am I? I'm Tony Stark, I'm a billionaire, a genius scientist, and a philanthropist. How can my work be called illegal! Here I checked the surveillance and found him!"

"Okay, sir."

Immediately afterwards, a stream of data appeared on the screen in front of Tony, and then a line of English was given—the invasion was successful.

Angelo's figure appeared on the big screen. From the moment he left his seat in the Internet cafe until he entered the church, all the surveillance cameras were firmly locked on him.

"Jarvis, this guy is a priest?" Tony's voice was full of disbelief. How did this guy get into the ranks of the priests?

Although he doesn't believe in these religions, he also knows that at least the priests of the church can't be full of swear words.

"Sir, this is Angelo's information, he is not a priest."

Speaking of which, Jarvis projected all the recorded materials of Angelo onto the screen.

Name: Angelo Lee

Age: 25 years old

...

"So, this guy bought that church and lived in it? I actually compete with this kind of poor guy." Tony shook his head amusedly, "Forget it, Jarvis, the person who arranged for our New York office , Go buy this church tomorrow and let him get out."

"Okay, sir. But there are rumors of ghosts in that church, do you really want to buy it?"

"There are no ghosts in the world, buy them."

...

Angelo didn't know yet that some foul-mouthed playboy had his cathedral in his sights.

He was eating a burnt steak, looking at the list he had just written in his hand, checking if there was anything missing.

This is the list of Hell's Kitchen bastards he just listed. The list is in no particular order, arranged according to the strokes. The mob bosses of the various gangs in Hell's Kitchen are on it.

From illegal arms dealers to the boss of street girls, everything.

According to this order, if Angelo intends to come back before dawn, he can't waste more than half an hour on everyone, but half an hour is a bit difficult to convert these unrepentant bastards .

If it weren't for these bastards, how could Hell's Kitchen only have a black gun store and not even an Internet cafe, so I could only go to Brooklyn to surf the Internet, and this account must be counted!

After struggling to swallow the last bite of steak, Angelo decided that after the penitents donated money, the first thing to do is to recruit a chef to replace these skeletons!

The cooking skills of the skeletons are really terrible. Their long-disappeared sense of taste determines that they can't tell the quality of the food at all. The ability to cook well is the result of Angelo's long-term training.

The first time Skeleton made steak without even tearing off the plastic wrap!

Looking at the sky outside, it has begun to darken, and Hell's Kitchen is about to become lively at this time.

It is no exaggeration to say that Hell's Kitchen belongs to New York during the day, but at night it becomes a paradise for gangsters, and even the police will not choose to be in Hell's Kitchen at night.

Angelo walked out of the church gate, locked the door, and listened to the sound of crackling and crackling like firecrackers from the corner of the street.

Annoyed, he summoned a bone armor covering his whole body.

He was not afraid of being hit by a bullet, but because he was afraid of being splashed with blood. With the attribute points of his body, even if the equipment bonus is not counted, the Vulcan Cannon can't hurt him.

He summoned a bone spear in his hand, and slowly changed its shape, removing the sharp part of the spear head and replacing it with a smooth flat head, finally turning the whole into a stick.

He is looking for those bastards to convert, not to kill them, who will donate if they kill them?

The wind blew through his dark gray clothes, and the shirt on his body fluttered in the wind. Under the moonlight, his white bone armor shone coldly...

If someone passed by the door of the church at this time and saw Angelo's attire, they would probably be scared to pee. He was covered in white bones, holding a stick with eyebrows in his hand, and the gloomy church behind him The background is like a god of death crawling out of hell.

Unfortunately, no one will see it.

This is the intersection of Hell's Kitchen and Brooklyn. Hell's Kitchen bastards don't come out of Hell's Kitchen, and Brooklynites don't come to Hell's Kitchen at this time.

Angelo dragged the stick backwards and walked step by step towards the depths of Hell's Kitchen. The tail of the stick slid across the ground, leaving behind a piercing sound of rubbing.

Being strong or not is a matter of a moment, but being handsome is a matter of a lifetime.

The first thing to notice him was the two gangsters fighting in the melee at the corner. The harsh friction made their scalps tense. The gangsters gradually stopped the gunfight and watched the strange figure approaching from a distance.

"Hey! Which gang are you from?" A black gangster leader boldly shouted at this side, waving a pistol in his hand.

"I'm Angelo, the pastor of Lamas Church. I'm here to preach to you. Do you want to believe me?"

The black leader burst into laughter immediately, and everyone on the scene laughed, and the scene of the shootout was filled with joyful atmosphere.

Hearing these mocking laughter, Angelo sighed and muttered, "I knew it."

I didn't bother to talk nonsense at the moment, I just picked up the stick and rushed up.

He's going to save these bastards!

An Qiluo came out by himself today, and there is absolutely no need to use those summons to deal with these people.

Although he was alone and only held a stick in his hand, the gangsters had no intention of being soft-hearted. When they saw him rushing over, someone shot him immediately.

"Boom!"

"Bang bang!"

"Da da da……"

Whoever fired the first shot was followed by the second, and someone even shot him with an automatic rifle. For a moment, gunpowder smoke filled the air, covering An Qiluo's figure.

If they were normal people, they would have been beaten to a pulp by this time, but these gangsters felt a little bad.

It's not the nonsense law of smoke without injury, but the sound of hearing this is obviously not the sound of bullets hitting the body, but the sound of bullets falling on the ground.

This is impossible to mishear for these guys who fight daily guns.

When the gunfire gradually stopped, the gunpowder smoke gradually dispersed.

Unscathed.

Looking at the ghastly figure covered in bone armor emerging from the smoke, cold sweat broke out from the brow of the bastard leader who asked the question just now. He remembered the recent rumors that the haunted man in the church named Rathma rumors.

Gangs belong to gangs, but this fear of the unknown cannot be avoided.

"Give it to me!" Gritting his teeth, the leader of the gangster snatched an RPG from the hands of his subordinates, without even looking at it, he shot it in An Qiluo's direction!

"Boom!" Accompanied by flames and violent explosions, the RPG accurately hit An Qiluo not far away.