The talkative raven in the world of American comics

Chapter 166 The Third Contractual Partner

The fallen leaves carried a message: it was a time of despair.

Ten years ago, the superheroes, once hailed as the hope of the people, were betrayed and killed by a united group of supervillains, and fell one after another.

You might think this is alarmist.

But when a superhero faces dozens of supervillains who far outnumber him, death becomes an inevitable question.

People often say that the age of heroes has ended, and with it comes boundless darkness.

He dragged his weary body and walked aimlessly.

He couldn't tell how long he had been walking or where he had ended up; all he knew was that he had to leave.

Like an old wolf that knows its death is near, it leaves its pack, wanders alone, and faces death alone.

Unfortunately, he was not an old wolf; he was still young and in his prime.

This is an age where it's worth burning your life to strive and fight.

But he considers himself an old wolf, or an old dog?

he does not know.

All he knew was how his relatives and friends died in front of him, and at his own hands.

The whispers of death, like the wind at this moment, brushed against his face and entered his ears.

"Logan, stop... please..."

'

Why did you do that?

"We should have been family..."

""

The man in the tattered uniform shook his head, trying to shake the deathly words out of his mind.

What came out was the bloodstains left on her face.

It was the blood of someone close to him.

So he smelled the blood.

The death knell sounded again.

it says.

"You really think you can take down dozens of supervillains all by yourself? I think you're not just a stupid dog, you might even have pig genes mixed in with you."

"Of course, if it's a close relative, whether they would hesitate when faced with your attack is another matter."

The man, pale as a vampire, lifted his black cloak and gave the malfunctioning Wolverine a standard gentleman's bow.

"Logan, I hope that in the days to come, even if you forget them, you will never forget me."

"Mr. Terrifying, on behalf of the evil group, offers you his deepest gratitude."

"goodbye."

After saying this, the diamond-shaped red dot between Mr. Jing'e's eyebrows flickered slightly and then disappeared.

Wolverine seemed not to have heard Mr. Sinister's words, and stood frozen in place.

He stared intently at the adamantium claws protruding from between his finger bones.

Blood dripped from the sharp claws onto the ground.

tick.

tick.

tick.

Wolverine snapped out of his daze and glanced again at the girl lying in his arms.

"Qianhuan..."

'

He raised his head and took in the gruesome scene of corpses, severed limbs, and blood all around him.

"Hank...Scott...No no no no no no..."

He raised six gleaming claws.

His blood-stained face was reflected in the sharp claws.

What have I done...?

'

"No...

'

"No..

""

Beep—

The piercing, urgent whistle of the train brought him back to reality, and the dazzling headlights made Wolverine squint.

At that moment, he felt as if he were facing the sun.

The sun was relentlessly scorching his skin, the stinging sensation penetrating the surface and grazing the indestructible adamantium alloy like an arrow.

It pierced straight into his heart.

The train is getting closer and closer.

Wolverine closed his eyes, placed his head on the track, and waited for the behemoth to crush him.

Click!

The axe chopped straight down into the center of the log, splitting it in two in the blink of an eye.

Logan quickly gathered the firewood, then picked up his axe and gently struck it, the tip of which precisely embedded itself into the stump.

He skillfully gathered the pile of firewood, then threw it all into a sack, and dragged the sack to the front of a house.

Boom—

.

After a while.

The door opened.

"Ms. Meryl, here's all the firewood you wanted," Logan said.

Ms. Meryl was an elderly woman, who looked to be at least seventy years old, with a face covered in wrinkles and white hair.

"Thank you so much, Logan. My health is getting worse every day—."

Meryl took out her small purse, pulled out a crumpled banknote, and handed it to Logan.

"Here, this is your payment."

"6

'

Logan took it and glanced at the amount on it.

Ten dollars.

These days, manual labor like chopping firewood isn't worth that much money.

But he didn't say anything, let alone question whether the other party had given him the wrong thing.

He took it and left without a second thought.

"Logan!" Meryl suddenly called out to him.

Logan stood there, hesitating whether he should turn and run.

Ten dollars.

At least a dozen beers are taken care of, and what if the old woman suddenly changes her mind and wants the money back?

Ugh.

do not care.

Anyway, she can't catch up with him.

"Could you do me a favor and help me carry this firewood inside? You know I'm too old."

Meryl stood in the doorway and pointed to the sacks filled with wood blocks.

"6

""

Logan turned around, went to the door, picked up the sacks, and went inside.

Then, he went to the fireplace where the firewood was piled up with practiced ease, arranged all the firewood, and casually tossed a few pieces of wood into the fireplace.

The flames suddenly weakened considerably.

Meryl sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace, covering her legs with a cotton blanket, her eyes fixed on the small flame.

"I never imagined life would turn out like this," she said.

"What will it become?"

Perhaps because of the ten dollars, Logan picked up the tweezers and helped the old man rearrange the fireplace to make the flames burn brighter.

Meryl gave him a helpless look. "Of course you know what I'm talking about."

Logan said, "I don't know."

"You know."

"I have no idea."

"You... God, why should I, at my age, argue with a rigid guy like you?!"

Meryl rolled her eyes, her gaze fixed on the ball of flame.

Society has become a mess, the country has turned into a criminal empire, and those heroes... sigh!

As he spoke, the old man unconsciously sighed, his tone filled with nostalgia for the past and regret for the superheroes who had died.

Ten years.

That's enough for a lot to happen.

Criminals are no longer universally hated; on the contrary, they are quite popular.

Some of those heroes became like rats hiding their tails, unable to look directly into the light; others rose up in resistance, only to die in unknown corners, their bodies rotting and stinking.

For this period of time.

The old man didn't have much to say, and even if he did, it wouldn't change the reality.

She's almost at the end of her journey.

These days of suffering will only intensify in the future, until they descend into utter darkness.

Seeing that Logan had finished cleaning the fireplace, he got up to leave.

Meryl pleaded, "Please sit down and talk to me, Logan."

Logan said without turning his head, "There's nothing to talk about."

Meryl couldn't hold back any longer and shouted, "You're Wolverine!"

Logan stopped and replied.

"No longer."

Logan entered the tavern.

The previously cheerful atmosphere vanished instantly upon his arrival.

Everyone who was drinking watched him silently.

Logan ignored it, went straight to the bar, and slammed the ten dollars he had earned that day onto the bar.

"A pitcher of Boston beer, please."

The bartender gave him a deep look, then glanced at the amount on the bill, and finally handed the famous "Wolverine" a pitcher of beer.

.

.

boom!

The glass slammed down on the table, the bartender took the money, and said, "This is the last time. Next time you come here, I won't serve you any drinks."

"OK."

Just as Logan picked up his glass, ready to take a big gulp, someone suddenly grabbed his neck with their hand.

The raised wine glass was pressed back down onto the bar by a hand.

Then in the next second.

Someone spat into the wine glass.

The thick saliva mixed with hops looked disgusting and made it impossible to swallow.

"5

""

Logan turned and glanced at the man.

The thug laughed, "Drink up! Why aren't you drinking?! I guarantee you, this will be the most enjoyable beer you've ever had in your life!"

Logan stared at him expressionlessly, while the thug's arrogance grew even stronger.

"The famous Wolverine... Oh, I forgot, you died long ago on the night of the hero's fall, and now people prefer to call you Logan."

"Logan, Logan, well, I think he's not even as good as Wolverine."

'

""

The bartender, who was sitting at the bar, watched this scene and unconsciously clenched his fingers.

Do it!

Rebel against them!

Even if the tavern is destroyed, the bartender is willing to let this man, who has been sealed away for some unknown reason, return to the world and become their new hope.

However, to the bar's surprise...

Logan picked up his glass, took a big gulp, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he drank.

soon.

Logan finished the entire large glass of beer in no time.

boom.

Logan wiped his mouth and laughed, "It really is delicious. I've almost forgotten how long it's been since I had a Boston beer."

The thug was stunned on the spot.

A few moments later, he rolled his eyes, pushed Logan's head, and sneered, "You're hopeless, Wolverine. Compared to those 'heroes' who still dare to show their faces, you're hopeless."

"Um."

After leaving Logan, the thugs returned to their original spot and continued to fool around and drink.

The pub has also returned to a joyful atmosphere from its quiet and tense state.

Perhaps some people's laughter comes from the heart, believing that this is a sinful era, an era that belongs to them.

Those who have witnessed the good old days and survived will force a smile and agree with it in order to survive.

Alcohol can numb the mind, but it cannot numb the soul.

They say all superheroes should die and cheer for evil.

Deep down, however, they hoped for the emergence of a new hero who could turn things around and get them back on track.

Of course, Logan, the only former superhero in the tavern, was not one of their choices.

No one knows what happened to this guy on the night the hero perished, no one knows why he put away his claws and lived a miserable life like a stray dog.

"Another one, please."

Logan tapped the bar with his finger, signaling the bartender to refill his large glass of Boston beer.

Ten dollars is more than one cup.

The bartender glared at Logan, took the glass, and refilled it for him.

Then, disregarding all the restaurant's etiquette, he casually placed his wine glass on the table, spilling the wine onto Logan's clothes.

"Go ahead and drink yourself to death, you useless coward."

'

""

Logan raised an eyebrow and continued drinking.

If only I had a cigar.

Ignoring this little incident, the tavern returned to its usual state, with everyone laughing and joking, and fresh drinks being poured every now and then.

Just as Logan finished spending the ten dollars he had brought in Boston beer and was about to leave.

A sudden exclamation came from outside the tavern.

It sounded like the roar of an engine from some kind of steel behemoth.

The commotion was so loud that everyone inside the tavern could hear it clearly.

After a while.

The sound came from outside.

"Could I drive this tank just once?"

"Shut up, Parker, something's not right here."

"Really? I feel fine. Are you sure this is the place?"

"Oz's feather refers to this place, that should be correct."

crunch—

The tavern door was pushed open.

A man dressed as a spider wearing a beige spiderweb cloak and another man with short bat ears and a helmet with fluorescent blue pupils walked in.

The two men were completely covered in uniforms, making it impossible to see their faces clearly.

What's even stranger is that this person, dressed like the dead Spider-Man, was holding a gray ball in his arms.

The other person, holding a feather, followed the direction indicated by the feather, observing the tavern back and forth.

They eventually narrowed it down to a burly man near the bar.

Spider-Man raised his palm and whispered to Red Hood, "I feel something's wrong here... my spider-senses are starting to kick in."

"Oh my god, you can actually sense that something's wrong."

The man with the red hood exchanged a glance with the others in the tavern, then walked up to Logan and examined the feather in his hand.

Every single downy feather on the feather refers to the strange man in front of him.

It seems like he's the one.

Red Hood thought to himself.

Just as I was about to say something, someone in the bar suddenly shouted, "Spider-Man?!"

Spider-Man looked in the direction of the sound and waved to the person who spoke.

"Uh... Hi? I am..."

Then he smiled at the red-hooded man and said, "Looks like I'm still quite popular."

Before he could finish speaking, someone threw a bottle at Spider-Man.

Whoosh!

Spider-Man dodged the blow, and the bottle fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.

"Hey! Littering has absolutely no manners!"

"Brothers, get him! Kill this Spider-Man and show our resolve to the evil corporation!!!"

"What the hell?!"

The thug who had just harassed Logan led several of his men and pounced on Spider-Man.

Spider-Man's eyes widened in surprise!

"What the hell?!"

Spider-Man, while carrying the sleeping Oz, leaped and dodged their attacks, shooting out webs to stop their movements.

Interestingly, these people didn't attack Red Hood; they completely ignored him.

The reason is simple.

They didn't know this guy.

I wonder how much this guy is worth.

"Guys, calm down, maybe we can sit down and have a proper talk!"

The sounds of Spider-Man fighting with several thugs reached Red Hood's ears.

He quickly scanned the pub and noticed that some people had terrified expressions on their faces, showing particular fear at Spider-Man's appearance.

Some people's eyes lit up, feeling a strange hope for Spider-Man's arrival.

hope?

Red Hood felt more and more that something was wrong with the world.

"Catch Oz!"

Like throwing a ball, Spider-Man picked up the gray blob from his arms and tossed it at Red Hood!

Red Hood caught it with one hand and glanced at Oz's current condition.

This guy's feathers have turned completely gray.

Judging from his condition, it seems he will need some time to wake up.

On the other hand, without Oz causing trouble, Spider-Man dealt with these thugs with ease.

He bound these people with spider silk and gagged them so they wouldn't make a sound.

Spider-Man approached Red Hood and whispered, "Is this the guy?"

"Most likely."

"5

""

Before Logan could say anything, the two people in front of him spoke up.

"Since Oz is still asleep, it's up to us to introduce him to you."

"Nice to meet you, its name is Oz."

"From this point on, the contract is made. It will help you hunt, but in return, it will take a part of you and your prey."

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