Marvel Nephalem

The bloody setting sun reflected the clouds over New York bright red. The dim red sunlight shined through the blinds and reflected on the handsome face of a tall young man.

The young man stood there and said to the white-haired old man with his back to the window elegantly and solemnly: "Mr. Kent, Agent William was invited by us from the CIA to do a security self-inspection. This matter is purely a misunderstanding, and it is also our responsibility." This was caused by the personal negligence of the security employee and we take full responsibility.”

Clark looked at CIA agent William Rawlings who was sitting on the sofa and looking at him with a bad expression. After pondering for two seconds, he suddenly stood up and stretched out his hand: "Thank you CIA for your attention and support to the security work of the Clinton Group. I am here We sincerely apologize for this misunderstanding."

"I...can understand..."

William took a deep breath, stood up, shook Clark's old hand, turned around and left.

The young man watched William Rollins leave. He couldn't help laughing and said to Clark: "I am Billy Russell. I am the new security consultant of the Clinton Group and the owner of Anvil Security Company."

Clark looked at the handsome and charming tall boy Billy Russell, raised his hand and shook his hand, patted his shoulder and said "Good job", and left in a hurry after chatting when he had time.

He wanted to take advantage of this time to visit the little girl Winnie and bring her a meal.

As he hurried out of the door, he happened to see William Rollins reversing the car at the door. The moment William and Clark looked at each other, they turned their gaze away and showed a faint smile, which happened to be seen by Clark.

Clark didn't think much about it. After all, he had just been dragged through the company hall by his throat. He was embarrassed in front of so many people. It was impossible not to hate himself. He walked straight to the roadside and drove.

At this moment, because of the showdown with Clark, the system, which had been honest all day, suddenly said: "Idiot, he has a guilty conscience, can't you see?"

Clark ignored the system's cynicism. He no longer believed in it at all. This ghost thing pretending to be a system only talked nonsense and maliciously misled and caused confusion. If he hadn't been worried that he would be retaliated for letting it go, Clark would have let it go. .

At least from now on, this evil thing that calls itself a system has indeed lost its control over certain rules, and its abilities are almost entirely controlled and restricted by itself.

Why use almost? Because Clark can't make this ghost shut up, let alone let him give all his power directly.

Just as Clark drove onto First Avenue, bought dinner and was about to go to the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai to see Winnie, the system chuckled: "Stupid host, you are being followed~"

Clark looked in the rearview mirror. There were all different cars behind him. He could clearly see a young and beautiful girl sitting next to the bearded man on the old Mustang sports car behind him, licking the bearded man's ears.

Clark pouted, turned his gaze and drove safely.

The vehicle went straight along First Avenue and crossed the business district to the outskirts of New York's Central Park. After a while of silence, the system made a sound again, apparently calmer: "Host, you are really being followed. If you don't believe me, let go of your perception. "

Clark sighed, turned on the car music, turned it up to the maximum, and turned to his favorite music recently, beat the devil's tattoo. The low and depressing metal music slowly sounded. Clark closed the car window and asked loudly: "Orphan system, what do you mean? What dad can’t hear?”

"What the hell am I..."

The system was almost out of breath, but it was able to notice that three more cars drove out of the park. The people in the cars all had messy long hair, fancy and loose clothes, messy but bright-colored hippie styles, which made it He quickly changed his words: "...I can feel that they are very nervous. If you believe me, you will die once."

Clark glanced at the rearview mirror. The group of young men and women behind the car were greeting each other, talking and laughing. They were obviously a group of young people who knew each other. They might have a small party together without getting drunk. Clark shook his head with a self-deprecating smile. He shook his head and said, "I believe you will really die."

At this time, the music had passed the accompaniment, and the desolate and decadent singing sounded along with Clark's low hum:

you have forsaken all the love you've taken

You have left behind the love of the world

sleepin' on a razor there's nowhere left to fall

Sleeping on a sharp blade, with no place to hide

The Cadillac SUVs were riding high on the road. The four young men in the classic cars behind them put on heavy black insulating protective suits for themselves and their companions. Except for the driver, there were 11 people in the four cars, each of whom took the AS12 number from the seat of the car. Automatic shotgun, looking at the companion in the last car who quickly assembled a "monster" anti-material sniper rifle.

your body's aching

Your body hurts so much

every bone is breakin'

Every bone breaks

nothin' see to shake it

Nothing wants to change it

it t keeps holdin' on

Just keep it like this

While Clark kept tapping along with the singing, the system collapsed and shouted for dad, an anti-material sniper rifle that could almost be called a cannon was already aimed at the bulletproof car. It adapted to the slight bumps of the classic car and took aim. Clark kept shaking his head to the beat and slowly pulled the trigger.

At this moment, Clark suddenly heard a scream in his mind that almost tore his soul. He couldn't help lowering his head to cover his temples and moaning in pain. When the system's scream turned into a scream, a burst of glass shards came out. The strong wind passed over his head, and the bulletproof glass, which was enough to withstand light machine gun fire, made a large hole the size of a bowl and rolled outward.

Realizing the crisis, Clark immediately pulled out the Smith & Wesson 9-caliber revolver hidden in the car seat, pointed it at the rear windshield that had been drilled out and completely spent, and shot along the hole in the plate. After blowing the sniper's head, four vintage sports cars caught up with him, and 11 shotguns, world-famous for rapid fire and banned in the United States but of little use, fired at a crazy speed of 360 rounds per second. The 20 rounds of armor-piercing single-point bullets in the magazine instantly smashed the SUV into a sieve.

your soul is able

Your soul is riddled with holes

death is all you crave

Only death is your destination

Clark, who was hiding behind the car seat against the steering wheel and driving with his backhand, looked at several holes in the car seat and suddenly felt some warmth in his chest. He looked at the black vest that was gradually soaked with blood and suddenly turned the steering wheel with his backhand.

The black bulletproof SUV suddenly crashed into the classic car that was driving to the side, knocking the four people in the car off the road. The two rolling cars plunged directly into the woods of Central Park. At the moment when the night covered the light, an explosion erupted. A ball of fire and puffs of smoke.

In the woods on the south side of New York's Central Park, Dennis Luther, who was wearing a black tactical protective suit, and mercenaries wearing insulating suits and holding various firearms, looked at the sky that had been shrouded in night, and pulled out the large-caliber gun from his waist. Revolver, muttering to himself: "At least somewhere, it's noon."