Marvel: Starting with the Glint-Glint Fruit.

Chapter 161 Astartes Powered Armor (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

"It shouldn't take long to crack it," the other three enthusiasts said decisively.

One of them pulled out something with a rather strange shape, resembling a pocket watch.

It had the same dark markings on the foreheads of several people.

This was the tool used to break through the magical barrier surrounding the base.

It was bestowed by the great Dark Lord Dormammu.

However, before the fanatics could act, the door to the house was unexpectedly opened.

Wu Xinmo, dressed in a somewhat comical floral shirt and beach shorts, walked out carrying a long glass full of juice and a straw in his mouth.

Standing within the barrier's range, looking at the uninvited guests before him, his pale, handsome face wore an expression of utter disbelief.

"You idiots, you're interrupting my binge-watching."

The Demonic Witch is still the same Demonic Witch, with an arrogant attitude.

He looked down on these few puppet-like minor characters.

The fanatics were unconcerned. None of them felt anger or fear; they were machines, willing to die to complete the mission.

They believe that death is just the beginning of a new life.

The great Lord of Darkness will resurrect them and grant them new life.

"Son of Mephisto, are you willing to be imprisoned here forever?"

Don't you hate the people who imprisoned you?

"That's what the female fanatic said coldly."

"so what?"

"We can cooperate."

"Cooperation?" Wu Xinmo chuckled, then pointed behind these idiots, gesturing, "Or, see what's behind you?"

The four fanatics were startled, their muscles tensed instantly, their hands formed hand seals, and they immediately turned around.

As soon as they turned around, the four people stared wide-eyed.

Because behind him, where there should have been no one, a group of people had suddenly appeared.

There are several hundred of them.

Arranged in two distinct square formations, the Astartes stood solemnly under the moonlight, clad in heavy Gothic armor with a matte black base and gilded trim.

The dark gold, aged texture exudes a sense of deathly stillness, solemnity, and iron-blooded holiness. The scarlet eye lights glow faintly behind the helmet visor, the only living light in this cold armor.

The shoulder armor was square and sturdy, with an inverted cross pattern engraved on the outside. Several special strips of paper hung on it; these were magical artifacts, pure marks specifically designed to counter demons and negative forces.

The breastplate is decorated with layered eagle wing reliefs, and the edges and seams of the armor are adorned with gilded piping.

A dark brown cloth battle skirt hung down from her waist, her leg armor was thick and solid, her knee armor was marked with a circular emblem, and she was equipped with uniquely designed firearms at her waist.

The Astartes wielded various weapons, some greatswords, some battle axes, and some spears. Though their weapons were not standard, their combined weight and oppressive aura made it almost impossible for the four fanatics to breathe.

The other side was much simpler: a red overcoat and cape, a combat shirt made of special material underneath, leather pants and Martin boots, a gun hanging at the waist, and a long scythe, spear and cross sword hanging on the back.

The magical patterns on the clothes are complex and multifaceted, but very subtle, so they don't disrupt the overall look of the garments and instead make them appear more exquisite.

These women, with their tall figures and elegant demeanor, possess a beauty that is both striking and powerful.

Like a group of Valkyries, their aura was in no way inferior to that of the armored warriors on the other side.

Without a doubt, the previously lifeless hearts of the four fanatics wavered.

It is fear.

The focused gazes of those who looked at the dead, the vast difference in their life levels, and the overwhelming force of the combined military might—even unconsciously—devastated the four fanatics.

The once fearless fanatics were also shattered.

Not to mention these few fanatics, even Wu Xinmo couldn't help but click his tongue and shudder.

He knew all too well that any one of them here could fight him for a long time.

They were all monsters.

Now they are a group, still wearing armor and combat suits. Wu Xinmo has no doubt that this army would be an extremely powerful force even if thrown into hell.

Any demon lord would covet it.

They wished they could have it all.

Well, these four idiots are enjoying treatment that even he didn't get.

I don't know whether to call it luck or misfortune.

"Damn it, Zara, let's go!"

The black-haired Asian fanatic realized it was a trap by then, so he yelled to wake his companions and quickly cast a spell to try and open a way out for them.

It's not that he was so great or willing to sacrifice himself.

Rather, it was extreme rationality that led him to make the most advantageous judgment and choice.

Unfortunately, the fanatic discovered that no matter how he tried to cast the spell, he couldn't activate the magic.

Unable to use magic, a sorcerer is only slightly stronger than an ordinary person.

Compared to the warriors of the Astartes and Ravens, they were simply easy prey.

A warrior at the very front of Astartes walked over with seemingly heavy yet effortless steps. With each step his massive, nearly two-meter-tall frame took, the sense of oppression increased.

Several fanatics' hearts were pounding.

The warrior walked up to the fanatics, holding a huge battle axe, looking down at them from his elevated position, his eyes fixed on the group through the narrow red visors of his helmet.

With his other hand outstretched, the heavy metal gauntlet opened wide and grabbed the Asian male fanatic's head.

They lifted him up by hand.

Seeing this, the other three fanatics suppressed their fear, drew their magic daggers from their waistbands, and launched a barrage of attacks on the armored warrior in front of them.

Unfortunately, the magic dagger could only leave sparks on the heavy armor, without causing any damage.

Instead, the shock made their hands ache.

Bucky ignored the three enthusiasts who were giving him gua sha. He stared at the expressionless Asian enthusiast in front of him, at the dark mark on the other man's forehead.

A conclusion was reached.

"These traitors of the underworld are beyond redemption. We won't get any information from them through normal methods. Nydy, they're all yours now."

With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the Asian fanatic into front of the Ravens' formation.

Then he swung his hand and punched each of the remaining three fanatics, knocking them unconscious.

Nydy, at the very front of the ravens, knelt down on one knee in front of the Asian fanatic, extended a finger, ignored the other's indifferent gaze, tapped the other's forehead, and then closed her eyes.

An invisible mental force instantly passed through the fanatic's mind.

"Tsk, his consciousness is almost assimilated by the darkness, no wonder he's so indifferent."

While reading her memories, Jennifer complained in Nettie's mind that she disliked that kind of power; it was evil and could corrupt you like a worm clinging to your bones.

Without special means, the soul will be assimilated sooner or later, becoming a slave and lackey of darkness.

They don't even have their own thoughts and emotions.

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