Wishbone is also very poor today [Comprehensive British and American]

The news of Rumlow's return from injury disappeared, and he received the eager attention and kind condolences of the whole hospital.

And through Clint's gossip, everyone knew what kind of arduous and fierce battle they had gone through. They cooperated seamlessly in the hail of bullets. The opponent was not only fierce, but also had many people and equipment.

Their great captain is unparalleled in bravery, affectionate and righteous, never abandoning or giving up.And how did Clint himself outsmart the opponent, save the captain bravely, beat the villain to death, and flee with his tail between his legs...

Brock, who listened to Rollins' narration, bit the nuts in his mouth and was speechless.

After a long time, he said calmly, "Don't trust that idiot."

It was the first time for Rollins to see the captain hurt so badly, and he also felt sorry for him. He gently held Bullock's hand: "It's okay, we know you have to be strong, but if the other party is so strong, it's okay to lose, no one will Gossip behind your back."

Bullock was so angry that his veins were throbbing. He slowed down his tone, raised his chin, and hooked the corner of his mouth: "Put your face here."

Rollins was a little shy: "Don't, there are people outside, you want to kiss me and wait until we go back to the dormitory."

With that in his mouth, he still moved his face closer, then closed his eyes and pouted.

With a grin, Brock slammed into Rollins' tall nose with his forehead as hard as iron, and kicked him out of the ward with a flying kick while he was bending over to cover his nose.

After a set of smooth movements, the captain of the combat department swished his gaze at the onlookers outside like a poisoned knife.

"What the hell are you doing? Go to training! If you don't get enough [-] medals before the match, I'll knock your pigs' heads off and feed them to the dogs!" His roar soared into the sky, turning the hospital's anti-explosion titanium The alloy roof trembled three times.

"Get out!!!" Bullock issued an ultimatum.

Rollins spit bloody saliva on the ground, and then slipped away with a group of people, tails between their legs, rubbing toilet paper while running, rubbing it into strips and stuffing them into his bleeding nostrils.

He touched his nose and found no fractures.

The captain is indeed a gentle Omega with a cold outside and a hot inside, Rollins thought to himself, it's just a bit of nosebleed!

At this time, the fragile rose with thorns in Rollins' heart was lying in the ward wanting to die.

There are still three days left in his estrus of ups and downs. Thanks to the iron-armed man, he can't take inhibitors after being injured, so he can only stand upright.

But fortunately, there is no task that does not require maintaining a fighting state, just lying in the hospital to rest.

Bullock has always done well when he gritted his teeth and got through it.

The college is different from the outside, there are no protection regulations against Omega, otherwise he and Rollins would not be assigned to a dormitory.According to the school's words, if you Omegas can't even guard against the Alphas in the school, you might as well drop out of school and get married, don't be ashamed here.

On the contrary, in such an extremely free and ruthless environment, the college, especially the Omega in the red room, thrived, and all of them possessed unique skills and tricks, turned their faces and refused to recognize others.

As for Brock, it may be that he ate some fake fertilizers, and he was a little too strong.

This year, this strong and healthy Omega is basically mature, constantly sending out courtship signals, and the estrus period is becoming more and more difficult.

Brock felt dizzy in his head, and the heat of estrus rolled from his abdomen to his whole body.He opened his eyes and looked around, seeing that no one was passing by, he stretched out a finger and stabbed hard into the wound on his shoulder, the familiar pain overwhelmed all other sensations.

After finishing being the demon queen, he pulled the quilt over his head and fell asleep.

When I woke up, it was already dark, and the tropical ornamental plants planted outside the window were fluttering in the wind, and the emerald green leaves were rustling. Occasionally, students in training uniforms passed by downstairs, and the nurses and doctors of the hospital were in groups, talking and laughing. Yan Yan walked to the cafeteria, time and space seemed to stand still.

Bullock lay on his side on the bed, stunned for a rare moment.

He just had a dream.

In the dream, there was a man whose face could not be seen clearly, who smelled like snow.But he is not important, what is important is his pair of metal arms full of Russian heavy industry aesthetics - the lines are smooth and tight, silent and deadly, when the force is exerted, the appearance of the scales buckled one by one is cold and dazzling, and the red five stars printed on the top It sadly shows the glory and end of an empire.

It gently strangled his throat, but Bullock in the dream did not resist, just immersed in its majestic and cold metal texture, as if all the value of everything in the world shone on it.

Brock, who came to his senses, covered his face in despair.

He seemed to have experienced what Yelena told him, the feeling of being in love.

For a metal arm, the first and only heartbeat in this life occurred.

Compared with that metal arm, his favorite FN2000 submachine gun, M134 machine gun, Barrett M109 sniper gun, anti-gravity alloy shield, miniature shoulder-mounted nuclear blaster...even including The battered revolver he'd used the first time he killed at the age of six.

They have all lost their beautiful colors.

As a normal Omega among a bunch of strong unmarked Alphas, he's never had a crush on any of them, is it... because he's a fetish?

After waking up, Brock brushed his short hair irritably, straightened up from the bed, and most of the wounds treated in the medical cabin have healed, and he can basically be discharged from the hospital tomorrow.

He lowered his head and wanted to put on his clothes and go out to eat something, but found that his bandage was covered with colorful children's stick figures, and there was a ball of round fonts placed in the most eye-catching place.

Thank you for saving my life from the most handsome Alpha in the world, Clint Barton.

So had he been so sleepy just now?

Dead to the point where someone rides on his neck and poops before he notices it?

With a gloomy face, Brock decided to beat Clint so hard that his whole family couldn't recognize him when he got out of the hospital tomorrow.

Coincidentally, the instigator of all this was hovering outside the door. After seeing Brock get up from the bed, he walked in swaggeringly.

"Hi, are you awake?" Clint raised his hands, "I brought you dinner, and my favorite panda pillow Mr. Wang, I wish you a speedy recovery!"

Enemies were extremely jealous when they met, Brock turned his neck abruptly, his eyes swept across Clint's brow and carotid artery, and took a step closer: "Tell me, how do you want to die?"

Clint is an excellent agent. Knowing that hitting a snake takes seven inches, he quickly stuffed a pillow named Mr. Wang and a hot dinner into Bullock's hands: "Don't kill me! I helped you pay for the hospitalization !"

Bullock's momentum faltered, and he sat back on the bed without hesitation, and opened the lunch box that was packed in an insulated bag.The creamy pumpkin bisque was served in a plastic bowl, and the rich aroma could be smelled without opening the lid, and the muffin sandwich was so soft that a light poke with your finger made a pit.

In the corner is a small puff pastry with cherry filling, which Brock and Clint ordered the last time they ate together.

Bullock was taken aback.

Forget it, don't beat him up.

Bullock has two major weaknesses in life, one is weapons and firearms, and the other is all kinds of food, which are his hope of survival.

Seeing the ferocious animal that lost its temper after being rubbed by Shunmao, burying its face rudely in the food and gobbling it up, Clint felt very uncomfortable.

He secretly placed Mr. Wang with a big head in black and white on the bedside.

Seeing Clint staring at him as he ate, Bullock couldn't help hugging the bowl vigilantly, and glanced at Clint.

"Is there anything else? Get out if you have nothing to do."

Clint has seen this kind of behavior writing protection food a lot.He grew up in a circus. When food was extremely scarce, children always used to protect their rice bowls while eating. Even if others just glanced at them, they would get fierce stares, for fear that the food would be robbed and they would not be full. starve.

"Then eat slowly," Clint pursed his lips, "I'm leaving first."

He dragged his feet and walked to the door, then turned around and said: "By the way, Mr. Magnus, the instructor of the magic department, said that in order to take care of his little friend Alexander, the potion he sold to our team will 400% off. Also, Rollins' mission was quite successful, and the medal value for the two of us has arrived, [-] points."

"Well," Brock took a sip of the soup, "stop talking."

Clint looked back at his panda pillow reluctantly before going out the door.

Brock was eating happily by himself, but at this time the communicator rang, and an unfamiliar number kept beating on the screen.

Brock wiped his oily hands with the sheet and picked up the phone.

"I heard you were injured?"

The owner of the voice asked plainly.

"It's almost ready." Brock was also flat and unresponsive.

"The S.H.I.E.L.D. agency sent agents by your side to check on me," the other end paused, as if he thought this decision was ridiculous, "Be careful."

Bullock stuffed the last bite of the bun into his mouth and didn't pay much attention: "I don't know anything, even if I want to say it, I can't say anything useful."

"You can get in touch with more people from S.H.I.E.L.D. I hope you can go to S.H.I.E.L.D. after graduation."

Bullock felt that this person's familiarity was comparable to Clint, he kept chewing, and continued to ask: "You want me to help you undercover? Why?"

He didn't care about his attitude, just smiled confidently: "You will understand later."

Brock only felt that the other party had a pit in his head. He remembered the rumors in the academy, raised his eyebrows and asked, "Did you fuck Maria Rumlow 18 years ago?"

"..." The other side was silent for a while, "No."

"It's a pity, she was pretty when she was young," Bullock thought carefully, "But if it was really you, then my face would be red, so ugly."

"You haven't changed at all, Crossbones." After being bullied, the opposite party was in a happy mood, and the agent under him trembled - the boss of the Red Skull called his secret lover again!Will we be silenced!

Bullock said indifferently: "Don't call me Crossbones, I don't know him."

After finishing speaking, he hung up the phone and picked up the Mr. Panda Mr. Wang that Clint had put on his bedside.

Mr. Wang is round, chubby and top-heavy. He looks stupid. The label hidden under his tail says Made in China. It feels like a cloud, so soft that you want to bury your face in it.

It still has a refreshing soapy scent, but its white belly is yellow, and the stitches on its limbs are loose, as if it has been used for a long time.

Should really be Clint's favorite throw pillow.

Bullock didn't take a weapon, and directly tore off Mr. Wang's big head with his bare hands, rummaging through a ball of cotton wool.

Finally, a small piece of eavesdropping equipment was found.

He raised his head and drank the creamy soup base in one gulp, before throwing the panda, which had been quartered by five horses, into the trash can of the hospital.

What a jerk, recalling Clint's awkward behavior, he touched the dark blue stubble that had just emerged on his head, and felt a little funny.

Did you really contribute your favorite pillow?