Marvel's Necromancer

"You still have to practice."

Ivan touched his nose awkwardly, but fortunately there was no one nearby.

He sensed the connection with the bone dagger, stretched out his hand, and the dagger standing by the wall disappeared silently, and appeared in Ivan's hand the next moment.

Ivan wanted to play a little trick and threw the dagger into the air, but he missed it and almost hit his instep when it fell.

"Okay, okay." Ivan held the bone dagger firmly this time and didn't do any fancy and difficult moves.

We all know that there is the famous Avengers in the Marvel world, but few people know about another group formed by superheroes, the Defenders.

Of course it's not established yet. Ivan said to himself, he put the black robe on his body in front of the mirror, put on the hood, and released the breath of death as a cover. He looked at himself in the mirror, holding a short wand in his left hand and a white bone dagger in his right hand. Black mist filled his body, and there was darkness under the hood, like a ghost.

"Or should I not make a wand, but a sickle?" Ivan scratched his chin with the hand holding the wand, thinking about the feasibility of cosplaying the God of Death.

"That would be cool!"

He raised his wrist and glanced at the time on his watch. It was five minutes past nine in the evening.

The moon is dark tonight and the wind is high, so it is suitable to go out to collect money.

All the funds reserved by Ivan's predecessor have been spent so far, but his home has only been built less than half, and even the surveillance system has not been installed. He himself only has one piece of magic equipment.

After making the bone dagger, Ivan was extremely excited and decided to go out to find trouble with the gang.

The Defenders are not very well-known in the Marvel world, probably because they are composed of street heroes without special effects, and their scope of activities is limited to Hell's Kitchen.

Ivan plans to find bad luck in the gang, and see if he can meet these superheroes along the way and form a good relationship. After all, the Defenders and Kingpin are mortal enemies, and they are wanted by Kingpin.

The enemy of your enemy is your friend, and it's great to have a good relationship. Ivan thought optimistically.

Hell's Kitchen at night is a paradise for evildoers. Ordinary residents and even the police will not choose to go out at this time. Criminal activity can be seen on the streets.

Ivan stood in the shadow of the alley, looking at the gangster selling anesthetics not far away.

"William, I've sold out all the new stuff, and I'm going to get a batch from you." The gangster leaned against the corner, lit a cigarette, and was talking on the phone, his unshaven face turned blue by the light from the phone screen. "Your new goods are really exciting this time, man! They are very popular on the streets. Wait for me at the bar. I want more new goods now. Remember to give me a good discount."

Let’s start with this little shrimp. Ivan moved his legs and feet slightly and selected this gangster as his target.

Ivan was just about to step out of the shadows, approach from the side and control the gangster. Suddenly, he was keenly aware that something was wrong. He retracted his steps and turned back to look at the entrance of the alley.

Outside the alley, a man dressed as a homeless man stumbled in. As he came in, the temperature of the entire alley seemed to drop. Ivan even saw a gangster spit out white mist from his mouth.

"Damn it, what kind of weather is this? Why did it suddenly become so cold?" The gangster noticed some changes in the environment. He rubbed his hands and saw a black shadow slowly approaching from the corner of his eye.

"Who?" He turned his head warily and saw the homeless man falling in front of him.

"Sell me some more." The tramp put his hands on the ground, raised his shaggy head, stared at his red eyes, and spoke in a slurred voice. Ivan noticed that his hands were like shriveled hemp sticks. Same, skin covering bones.

"No more, sold out." The gangster breathed a sigh of relief and said impatiently when he saw that he was actually a shadow addict.

"Please, sell me a little more, just a little." The homeless man seemed to have not heard what the gangster said. He just waited and begged with red eyes. The gangster was tired of hearing this and left the corner where he was leaning. He was about to avoid the homeless man kneeling on the ground and leave the alley.

When he passed the tramp, the tramp reached out and grabbed his trouser leg tightly, and continued to repeat.

"Sell it to me! Sell it to me a little!"

"Get out of here!" The gangster saw the homeless man's dirty handprints touching his newly bought pants. He became angry and swung his legs to get away. He didn't expect that the homeless man's numb arms were so strong. Without breaking away, I could still vaguely hear the sound of clothes tearing. I took out a gun from my back waist, pointed it at the homeless man’s head and shouted:

"Release me immediately!" The gangster put the gun on the homeless man's head and threatened, "Or I'll kill you!"

"Sell me some, give me some." The homeless man ignored the threats in his ears and kept mumbling.

"Did he hear that? I told you to let go..." The gangster took the gun handle with his backhand and hit the homeless man's head hard. Unexpectedly, the homeless man suddenly jumped up and bumped into the gangster's hand holding the gun, knocking the gun away. Fly out.

"Give it to me! Give it to me! Give me your goods!" The tramp stared with red eyes, stretched out his hands to pinch the gangster's neck, opened his mouth and yelled at the gangster, saliva flowed all over his chin, and the sharp point in his mouth The teeth exuded a cold light.

"Crazy! You're so fucking crazy." The gangster pulled at the hands that were strangling his neck, but he didn't know where the strange strength came from in the homeless man's thick and thin arms. They were clamped tightly like iron pliers, and he couldn't break free at all. open.

"Let...let go...let me go."

"You won't give it to me, you won't give it to me." The homeless man muttered like a madman with his disheveled hair. "If you don't give it to me, I'll get it myself."

As he spoke, the tramp opened his mouth at an angle that even exceeded the physiological limit of a normal human being. He grinned, protruding his sharp fangs, and bit down hard on the gangster's shoulder.

"Ah——!" Severe pain came from his shoulders, and the gangster wailed miserably, with tears and snot flowing down his face.

"It's delicious, it's delicious..." The homeless man muttered incoherently, making a slurping sound, accompanied by the gangster's screams, which were terrifying.

"Pfft!" A bone blade penetrated the tramp's chest. The tramp screamed and threw it away, and the gangster flew out like a rag doll.

The homeless man made an inhuman cry, turned around and grabbed Ivan behind him.

Ivan released the handle of the dagger and jumped back slightly to avoid the grasping claws. Black mist surged around him, and a skeleton warrior appeared from it. The skeleton took a step forward and waved the scimitar. Sliding from the homeless man's neck, the homeless man's head rolled to the ground.

Ivan waved his magic wand to prop up the bone armor, blocking the blood splattering from the gap in the homeless man's neck, and couldn't help but raise his eyebrows and click his tongue:

"It was so violent."

Ivan raised his hand and called the bone dagger into his hand. He walked to the headless body and squatted down, examining the wound he had made with the dagger with a puzzled look on his face.

The wound on the chest of the homeless man's body was much larger than expected, and Ivan could feel the traces of magic in the bone dagger from the wound.

Why is the dagger's magic triggered? Ivan was filled with doubts.

The bone dagger of the Necromancer is endowed with a lot of powerful magic, which can cause great damage to undead creatures. It can severely damage the body and soul of living creatures. It can be returned to the owner's hands within a certain range according to the owner's spiritual will. In the owner's hands Sometimes, the spirit and willpower of the Necromancer will rise to a terrifying level, which can give the Necromancer resistance to some magic. The bone dagger even comes with a flash spell that can shine.

But this trace of magic made Ivan frown.

This kind of mark is the magic on the bone dagger targeting undead creatures. Is this tramp already dead? And turned into an undead creature?

What the hell happened in Hell's Kitchen?

Faintly feeling that the current situation was beyond the scope of the plot he knew, Ivan's eyebrows almost knitted together.