American comics: You're asked to fish, but you catch a Superman template?

Page 1308

A slightly older Black child spoke up. Among a group of usually malnourished children, his personality was prominent but also limited, and his emaciated body looked disgusting.

"No, it's not that I want you to work for me, it's that you want to work for me; there's a difference."

Monk looked at the first child to make a sound.

"What's your name?"

"Sean"

Monk smiled.

“Okay, Sean, you know why I say this? It has nothing to do with greatness or the word 'ideal.' What I'm saying is that you're doing this for yourselves.”

Monk opened the side screen and introduced the children.

"Do you want to eat these things? Do you want to wear these clothes? And these luxury cars, big houses, amusement park rides—how many of you have never been to an amusement park in your entire lives?"

Monk tilted his head and looked at them. As expected, their faces showed not only longing but also sadness.

Children are the most innocent; their hearts are purest when there is no external influence. However, they have no concept of ethnicity, family, or country. They don't care about so-called morality and law. They eat when they are hungry and drink when they are thirsty.

This is both a good thing and a bad thing.

For civilized society, it is terrible to reject the primal desires of those who always claim to be civilized and moral.

But this is good for a chaotic world, because children are naturally easy to mold; they are not afraid of blood because they have food in their mouths, and they dare to challenge anything because they have warm clothes.

And that's exactly what Monk needed.

Yes, raising a child from a young age and turning them into an elite warrior requires tremendous effort, but changing the mindset of an elite warrior requires even more effort.

Besides, Monk has neither time nor money now. If in the future he has an army that shares his ideas and is willing to fight for the same interests, then that would be a worthwhile effort, wouldn't it?

Chapter 1597 Embraer

"I can give you anything you want, everything here, everything you desire, but what can you give me? Or rather, what right do you have to do this? Think about it carefully."

After saying this, Monk left: These children had just been found, and they would only need a short time to recover their emaciated bodies, regain their common sense, and learn to read and write.

"But they won't do that next time."

With this assurance, Monk walked out of the building, where the red and white octagonal pattern on the upper floor gleamed in the sunlight.

"Take me back"

Once inside, the black Chevrolet appeared understated and unassuming. For Monk, it was too early to take the stage; he didn't want to appear like a playboy who had just risen from the dead, eager for the whole world to know of his existence.

Speaking of this playboy, Monk thought of another very important figure in the land of the Ice Bear. Something like the Arc Reactor, even if it's just the most primitive palladium reactor, is extremely valuable.

Thinking of energy, Monk suddenly remembered that there seemed to be a titan in the energy world in New York. Although he was one of Peter's nemesis, he was in no way inferior to this playboy in scientific research.

Monk hurriedly pulled out a small notebook and wrote down the two things, preparing to wait for someone to ponder them; knowing the plot was an advantage, even if 953 didn't know the plot's direction, just the talent of a damned treasure hunter was enough to make this transmigrator incredibly cool.

"By the way, the Bastürk mansion. God of War, shall we go and cause some trouble?"

A series of thoughts flashed through the busy Monk's mind, and many things that he hadn't had time to attend to due to his busy work came one after another.

During this time, Monk had a lot to do: he had exams, final exams, SAT exams, and he had to practice. With Chi, he could learn a lot, many skills he had always dreamed of.

In addition, he must continue his fight against crime. He had to pause for a while because of the vampire incident, but now that the problem has been resolved, he naturally has to continue.

Having lost their pincers, these remaining vampires have lost control. In the past, elders fed them, which, though not enough, at least provided them with something to eat.

However, after the elders were killed by Deacon, and then Deacon was hanged, Maginos was hanged, and Blood Farm was destroyed by the hunters, the vampires, driven by hunger, had no choice but to begin hunting.

During the day they cannot go out, but at night, the entire city of New York City seems to turn into a ghost town, where countless vampires rampage wildly under the torment of hunger and thirst. They don't care who you are; human predators will bite, completely and utterly turning into beasts.

Monk, Peter, Blade, and the others spent their days dealing with them, but their work became a little easier as a special squad in town began a major sweep of vampires.

At the same time, they also began to discover the whereabouts of the Eye of the Shadows and Taskmaster, whom they had previously fled from. Now, Monk could easily kill the two of them single-handedly, let alone boast about it. So he felt that he should avenge that incident by eating his own stomach.

Unfortunately, the two people disappeared without a trace from that day on, and Monk was very sad for several days.

"Squeak squeak"

The sudden braking almost caused Monk to fall forward, but fortunately his profound martial arts skills allowed him to regain his balance.

"what happened?"

"Sir, you've stopped on the road."

Monk frowned, opened the car window and looked out. He saw a man in a suit parked in front of his car, smiling and looking friendly (bbfh). But his hairline was particularly striking, standing high on the edge of the lane line, which looked quite dangerous.

Monk opened the car door, got out, and walked to the man's side. He probably already guessed who the man was, and his next words confirmed it.

"Hello, sir. This is Agent Coulson from the Office of Strategic Attack and Homeland Logistics Support."

Looking at Coulson standing in front of him, solemnly pronouncing his long name while showing his identification, Monk couldn't help but chuckle.

"Um, can you shorten it? The name of your bureau is too long."

Monk handed the documents back to Coulson, teasing him on purpose.

"Sir, you're not the first to say that. In fact, we are considering changing the name."

Coulson was pleased rather than angry at Monk's teasing: Monk's willingness to joke with him meant that there was at least no ulterior motive or hostility between them, which was good news for continuing the conversation, but not good news either.

"What about S.H.I.E.L.D." "Down to the first letter of every word."

Munch strode over, having received a hint from someone else.

"That sounds good. We'll seriously consider your proposal."

"Agent Coulson, what brings you here?"

Monk looked around: the two of them were standing in the middle of the road, the place wasn't too remote, and there wasn't much traffic, so he decided to let it go and asked Coulson to come with him to the side of the road.

“Actually, Mr. Kevin, your behavior is somewhat unusual. I had no choice but to do it. As for why I came to see you, I think Mr. Kevin should know.”

Monk isn't stupid. He expected S.H.I.E.L.D. to come knocking on his door. The vampire empire is such a massive enterprise. Tell me, can job transfer be done?

Furthermore, vampires are likely always under the surveillance of special forces, not to mention their incredibly wealthy territories.

"What? You want my money?"

Monk wasn't angry; he just looked at Coulson with a mocking expression.

"In fact, the money doesn't belong to you, Mr. Kevin, right?"

Coulson, still smiling, said that Nick Fury believed the person sitting in his chair possessed a special ability or personality.

"Why not mine? I destroyed those bats, and what did you do? Wipe the floor? I didn't see a single so-called agent during the massacre."

Monk's face grew increasingly chubby from his mocking expression. "Zixin = You've been working so hard fighting monsters, and now you're just picking peaches for nothing?" That's probably not a good idea.

"The SWAT team has its own considerations. It's not that we don't want to accept it, it's just..."

"Hmm, political reasons, right? I understand, but is that why you let them run rampant? Even instigating them to cover up their activities and clean up crime scenes?"

Chapter 1598 Obtaining a Big Toy

Watching the news on TV, Tony twirled the screwdriver in his hand, his mind filled with horror as he thought about everything that was happening before his eyes.

This place was once Ethan's hometown, but now it has become a living hell, with countless terrorists using Stark Industries' advanced weapons to indiscriminately slaughter civilians.

Tony knew why things had turned out this way: because of him, because Ethan had saved him, and these evil, inhuman guys were taking their anger out on these people.

Tony recalled yesterday's conversation.

"Tony, you have to understand, there are some things you can't be naive about. We're arms dealers, selling arms is our job!"

"But that's the bottom line, that's how we do business: if we were to do a behind-the-scenes deal, would we?"

Tony seemed flustered, as if he had suddenly remembered something and wanted to ask it out.

Obadiah didn't answer him directly, but gave him a meaningful look, then put his arms around his neck.

"Who do you think made the board kick you out of the company? It was me. I did all this to protect you!"

Has the once familiar and kind uncle become someone who wants to lead a betrayal?

Tony wasn't stupid; he knew perfectly well that Obadiah was the one pulling the strings behind the scenes.

After all, Ethan's death and the riots in the town of Gumira were his fault, and he had to do something, or he would be tormented by his conscience and have nightmares in his sleep!

Tony stood up and looked at the Ten Commandments terrorists showing off their weapons on the television screen. He raised his hand, palm facing them, and suddenly a huge explosion occurred.

"boom!"

After a brief buzzing sound of electrical charging, a powerful shockwave, like a giant hammer wielded by a giant sweater, shattered the television set hanging on the wall into pieces.

Not to mention that Tony was about to release a big news, Xu Fu, who could only live in a dilapidated small building in the suburbs because the headquarters building was not yet completed, looked at the Russian tough guy covered in tattoos in front of him and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

"Welcome, welcome, Ivan Vanko. Welcome to my territory. Hello, I am Kevin King, President of Embraer."

Looking at the extremely young man standing in front of him, Ivan was stunned for a moment: just a week ago, several people suddenly approached him, saying they wanted to hire him as a technical consultant and were prepared to pay his father's medical expenses, offering all sorts of conditions.

Ivan was sentenced to fifteen years in prison for smuggling strategic materials. He did not hesitate. He needed money, and most importantly, he needed good conditions for rehabilitation. Historically, his father should have died in a little over a month. He was a filial son, and he had no reason not to accept the conditions offered by these people.

However, when he arrived in the Land of Beauty with his elderly father and his beloved little bird, he realized that this young man was the one who had hired him.

"Hey, you brat, get your master out here. If he wants anything, tell him to come find me."

Ivan's attitude was somewhat arrogant, but Xu Fu didn't care: this man had real talent and ability, and in Xu Fu's opinion, what he could do was worth Xu Fu's efforts.