Marvel, I tweet and I can draw a lottery

Chapter 34 It's hard for me to do things for you with this little money?
Agent Phil Coulson was driving on the road to New Mexico.

He parked the car at a gas station, started self-fueling, and walked into the convenience store.

He ambled to the back of the container and leaned over to find his favorite chocolate donut.

He raised his hand to take it... and saw a white chocolate donut nearby.

He holds both flavors in his hand, the same brand, the same expiration date.

After he struggled for a while, a harsh shout sounded, attracting his attention.

"Don't move, put your hands up!"

"Don't move or your head will be blown off!"

Two thugs point guns at the beautiful cashier behind the counter.

The cashier raised his hands in panic.

"Who else is here?"

"Whose car is that outside?"

The cashier closed his eyes tightly and turned his head sideways trying not to look at the two people who were not wearing hoods at all.

If John had been here, he would have discovered that these two men had escaped from Hell's Kitchen.The guns in their hands were from Wilshere.

"It's mine." Coulson stood up behind the container. "But it's actually Morikali's."

"Throw over your keys!"

Coulson cooperated, "Okay, okay." Then he actually threw the key over.

Seeing this guy's cooperation, the two ignored him and turned to the cashier.

"Now open the cash register and fill this pack with cigarettes!" A thug pulled out a bag.

"Sorry, I still have a gun here, you might want it," Coulson said.

The two looked at Coulson nervously. "Put the gun down!"

Coulson held the handle of the gun with his fingers and held it above his head. "Okay, okay, I don't want to get into trouble."

"Throw the gun over here!"

Coulson said calmly, "If you throw it over, it won't be good if the gun goes off and hurts anyone. I suggest sliding the gun over on the ground."

"Then slide over on the ground, don't play tricks, just slide the gun under my feet!"

"Okay okay, take it easy, I'm just going to walk up this aisle and cross the gun."

The moment Coulson swiped his gun over, he threw a bag of washing powder and hit the faces of the thugs standing outside.

Coulson jumped up, stepped on the right container, leaped across the aisle, and landed on a mob's shotgun, who pulled the trigger but only hit the ground.

Coulson grabbed the shotgun and slammed it hard on the face of the thug who had just been hit by washing powder, knocking him unconscious. The shotgun drew an arc and hit its original owner on the back of the head.

In just an instant, both of them fell to the ground.

Coulson picked up his gun calmly.Put the thug's shotgun on the cashier counter.

"Sorry for the mess." Coulson smiled gently at the cashier. "I can't choose which one to order."

He put both packs of donuts on the table.And put a piece of cash.Looking at the beautiful cashier who was still raising her hand and looked at him in panic.

"You don't need to look for it." Coulson was about to leave with the donuts when the clerk suddenly stopped him.

"Wait a minute, the police are here, what should I say?" The cashier finally put her hand down.

"Just say you didn't watch so many martial arts movies for nothing." Coulson left the convenience store after finishing speaking, took off the oil gun and hung it back to its original position.Continue on your way to New Mexico.

General Thaddeus Ross—the man known to friends and foes as "General Thunderbolt"—was sitting in his office in the Pentagon.

When his assistant, Major Catherine Spall, put a pile of forms on the table, Rose came to his senses and signed the forms without thinking.These forms are basic application forms, dull and unchanging.

"General, Quentin Baker wants to see you," Catherine said.

"The head of Umbrella's prosthetic body research department?" General Ross showed a look of disgust.

That guy, certainly not the one who invented these cyber prosthetics, invited him to help research military-grade combat prosthetics, but he's not even as useful as his own engineers!
Relying on this status, he came to see himself many times, as if meeting the general as his talk?
General Ross was silent for a while, but decided to meet him. This guy is still useful until he gets the talent who actually invented the cyber prosthetic body.

"Dear Quentin, is there any breakthrough?" General Ross had a smile on his face.

"Of course, General Ross. I made a brand new system, the electrical signal of the prosthetic body simulates the differential feedback system. When the prosthetic body uses more force, the electrical signal feedback will not increase exponentially, resulting in greater stimulation of the brain. Instead, it increases slowly, so that it will not be so easy to go crazy." Quentin said proudly.

In fact, the human brain is not a computer. If there is such a huge difference between the actual touch and the brain's perception, the body will lose control.

It's as if the user thinks he's using only a small amount of force, but smashes the wall.Such a reformer basically bid farewell to normal life, hugging his wife but directly squeezing his wife into a ball? Simply sitting down, no furniture can bear his strength? Want to drink a cup of coffee, you need to use special equipment?
But as a weapon it certainly qualifies.This means that the transformed soldiers will not lose their minds immediately. They will use all their strength in battle, but it will be a little troublesome to cooperate.

Cyber ​​mental illness will slowly take root in his brain because he has been unable to live normally for a long time.

Simply put, this is just replacing the rat poison that kills people directly with a chronic poison that kills people slowly.

And there is no actual technological breakthrough.

So... what kind of monsters will this technology create?
John Wiersher returned to his office and started a new day of work.

"Chris Redfield." John called out the name of the man in front of him. He was a young engineer, about 30 years old.

"It's me, boss."

John smiled and said, "Don't be so stiff. Collaborative, steadfast...you have a great last name. Why did you choose to be a mechanical engineer?"

"I've loved cars since I was a kid, taught myself and then went to school... I think I'm a qualified mechanical engineer."

"You really don't need to be so nervous. Do you feel strenuous in the research process of the scientific research department? Your supervisor said that you are always the slowest one to finish."

"Then did he say that there will be almost no problems with the part I completed?" Redfield said confidently.

"Of course, I understand. Otherwise you wouldn't be here today." John laughed. "Are you familiar with the researchers of other projects? Your personal computer stores almost all the drawings of new cars that I haven't released yet."

"Boss! I'm not a commercial spy, my personal computer has only been connected to our company's LAN at most! I'm just interested in cars..."

John smiled even more happily, "Of course, of course, I understand. I like this name in our company. Are you interested in becoming the president?"

"Boss, who doesn't know that you are the only president of our group, I like our company very much, and I want to continue working for Umbrella." Chris said anxiously.

"I'm not trying to fire you, I'm starting a new subsidiary, what do you think of the name Umbrella Redfield Auto Industries?"

"What does the boss mean? Oh I'm so honored!"

"You have one week to familiarize yourself with everything about the automobile industry park, communicate with the research team of this project, order the first batch of new cars, and follow up the company's development plan. You don't have to complete all of these, you just need to let me see you have this ability."

"I have faith, boss!"

"Go, don't let me down."

Chris nodded solemnly, "I will hand in a result that satisfies you."

Chris stepped into the elevator and saw that his authority on the watch had changed directly from a researcher to the president of a subsidiary company, without even the words "temporary agent".

"Hey, sir, I'm going to resign, I'm quitting the FBI....Why? With your little money, it's hard for me to give up the opportunity to be worth hundreds of millions in an instant!"

(End of this chapter)