American Comics: The Invincible Wheel of Fortune

When Aaron first met his "childhood idol" Punisher.

Same with Hell's Kitchen.

It's also an abandoned building.

Just not the same building.

The location was also changed to the lobby on the first floor.

It’s also a group of people getting together.

There is also another group of people scattered around, but the number is much larger, there are fifty or sixty people, and there is no disguise, and they do not belong to each other, they are all in groups of a dozen people, clearly distinguishable.

An old white man with white hair and glasses. His face is old, but he is very well-kept. He is quite rich and energetic. He is wearing a handmade Italian cashmere suit. All the details are taken care of meticulously, and you can tell at a glance that this is a person who pays great attention to appearance.

Two lean, medium-sized, middle-aged Eastern European white men were fighting together. They had light brown hair, high eyebrows, a high bridge of nose, and light gray irises. One of them had a deep scar on his face.

Judging from the facial features of the two, they are quite similar. They should have a close blood relationship. They are not brothers, but cousins. They are also dressed similarly. They have shirts and jackets with open collars. They are quite slovenly. There is a sinister look between their eyebrows. Arrogant, very ferocious of a fighting nation that dares to defy the sky, the earth, and the air after just one bottle of vodka.

A little further out than the three of them, there stood a middle-aged Asian man, also a lean figure, about 1.7 meters tall, with a shoehorn face, a flat nose, and narrow, squinty eyes, shiny. He had a sloppy back, and he didn't look like a nice guy at first glance. He was also wearing a suit and leather shoes, with a golden emblem the size of a button pinned to the left collar of the suit.

"Why are you not here yet? There are only 4 minutes and 30 seconds left before the agreed time." The white-haired old man raised his wrist and looked at his gold Rolex watch. His tone was a little impatient, and the look on his face was slightly dissatisfied.

"You are too fussy, Leland, please be patient."

The speaker was one of the two Eastern European white men who looked like two brothers. His accent had the kind of snappy accent that comes from being used to speaking Russian.

The person who was speaking originally had a lot of impatience on his face, but the other person was relatively calm and said a few words to him from time to time, which kept him from getting angry.

But when this guy saw that the old white man was critical, he looked like he didn't care and instead started talking about others.

Leland, as the middle-aged white man called him, rolled his eyes angrily and said disdainfully: "Don't do this, Vladimir. Punctuality is the most basic courtesy and education, and it is a human being." The rules are really bad for young people nowadays, do you also require the same for your little brothers?"

When Leland said Vladimir heard this, his eyes immediately widened, as if they wanted to stick out of the frame. There seemed to be a fierce light in his eyes, like a firecracker being lit. When he was about to throw himself in front of the old white man, the man next to him quickly stopped him.

Leland looked a little evasive immediately. He looked like a talker and didn't have the confidence to fight hard.

The middle-aged Asian man seemed to be in a trance. There was no disgust, irritation, disgust, or disdain on his face. He didn't even look like he was watching a good show. He poked the cosplay pole with no expression at all, showing no reaction at all.

Just when the atmosphere was so awkward and a good show was about to take place, an old female voice suddenly came: "Well said, there are no rules and no rules. Fortunately, I am not late."

Several people were stunned. They looked out and saw a thin figure walking out of the shadows. She was a skinny old Asian woman with wrinkles on her face. She looked much older than Rand. , but his eyes seemed to be flashing in and out. He was leaning on a walking stick, but it was just used to show off his appearance. His legs and feet were very nimble.

However, several people had only one reaction to the old lady's powerful and powerful words, and that was confusion.

Because the old lady spoke in Cantonese.

It's just that Vladimir and the other two were completely confused, but the middle-aged Asian man seemed to have come to his senses. Strangely, he nodded vaguely at the old lady, as if in greeting.

Only Leland was confused and a little disdainful.

Old Leland had the fastest mouth, as if he had no brain at all. He opened his mouth and said to the middle-aged Asian man: "What is this talking about? Chinese? Hey, Nobu, do you understand? ?”

How can I describe that look and tone? If anyone here has heard cross talk, it would be better to compare it with, "Hey, tell me, tell me, tell me quickly, how to get to the court?" It's probably like this The meaning of appearance.

It's very old-school traditional white people, the kind from the old days, with the deep-rooted racial discrimination of "all except white people are inferior".

The middle-aged Asian man called "Xin" who had been playing the role of telephone pole finally reacted and gave Leland a cold look.

"You called him Nobu, but you didn't know he was a footbath person?"

The person who spoke was the calmer person next to Vladimir, who looked like "I can't help my teammates, I'm really tired."

Leland stretched out his two index fingers to mark the distance and explained: "Isn't it quite close? I thought... ok, ok, don't say it, don't say it, that's fine."

Seeing that the "letter" frowned and stared at him with his eyes narrowed into two slits, Leland shut up in a "sense of current affairs".

This old man typically only planted trees A and C in his heart. The middle tree had been cut down long ago and used to roast chicken wings. It has not been beaten to death until now. There must be something that has not yet shown itself. The unique characteristics are much needed by others.

The old lady saw that several people didn't understand, but she didn't mean to explain at all. She just stood there with a cane and looked at everyone's "performance" with a smile, looking very calm.

At this time, a clear male voice came from behind Mrs. Gao from far to near: "Mrs. Gao said that she very much agreed with Mr. Owsley's statement and said that fortunately she was not late."

The speaker walked half a body behind Mrs. Gao. He was a tall, stiff, middle-aged white man with black hair. He was also dressed in a meticulous suit and leather shoes. He had an upright appearance and wore glasses. He was very elegant. His appearance and voice were calm and calm. He was not like the Maozi brothers, the narrow-eyed Asians, or the old white guys who didn't look like good people. Instead, he looked like a shrewd and capable bank business manager.

It can be said that it doesn’t match the style of painting here very much.

This style, this style, these are all translators, who can outshine the fat translator who eats watermelon without paying for it.

"Wesley, where's that guy? Are you here?" Leland seemed to know the person who was translating for Mrs. Gao. His tone was casual and a little impatient.

This old guy, it doesn't matter if he doesn't open his mouth, but when he opens his mouth, he smells like an old gunner and a scumbag. At this age, he is really out of tune, and his outfit is wasted.

Vladimir seemed to look down on this man, as did the man next to him who seemed to be his brother. Even the "letter" was quite polite, and his expressionless face squeezed out a smile, and nodded at this man. nodded.