Marvel: Ma'am, I'm your husband's boss

Rachel Van Helsing was extremely quick.

She quickly dodged to the side and easily avoided Fisk's swift grab. At the same time, she raised her leg and kicked Fisk's abdomen, her movements were clean and neat, without any delay.

Fisk didn't care about her attack at all. He reached down with his big hand, grabbed her neck, and then carried her to the window not far away.

Rachel Van Helsing's feet were hanging in the air, and her hands were grasping Fisk's wrists in vain, trying to break free from the iron-like restraints, but it was all in vain.

Fisk showed a ferocious smile on his face and said viciously: "My patience has its limits.

Tell me who sent you.

Otherwise, I will throw you down!"

May Parker looked at everything in front of her with some horror.

Her palm, which was wiping the blood, was still suspended in the air.

Fisk was already a few meters away.

Although Rachel Van Helsing was having difficulty breathing, she still stared at Fisk stubbornly, her eyes full of indomitable spirit and resentment, and she gritted her teeth and said, "Don't you think you can get anything from me!

Even if I die, I will never surrender to you!"

Although her voice was a little hoarse due to being strangled, the firmness in it was not diminished at all.

Fisk snorted coldly. The voice seemed to come from hell, carrying with it endless indifference and cruelty.

He increased the strength of his hands, as if he wanted to crush Rachel Van Helsing's neck.

Rachel Van Helsing's face grew paler, her lips began to turn purple, and veins popped out on her forehead, but her eyes were still fixed on Fisk, without the slightest sign of retreat or begging for mercy.

At this critical moment, a black shadow shot in from the window like lightning, and rushed towards Fisk with a sharp sound of wind.

The black shadow was extremely fast and was in front of Fisk in an instant. The powerful impact forced Fisk to let go of his hand and turn around to deal with this sudden attack.

Rachel Van Helsing took the opportunity to fall to the ground, her body hitting the ground heavily with a dull sound.

She was gasping for breath, and every breath seemed like she was desperately trying to absorb the hope of survival.

There were waves of severe pain in her throat, but she didn't care about it. She just breathed in the air greedily, allowing her almost fainted brain to gradually regain clarity. But at the same time.

Her palm also touched her waist.

There lies a sharp dagger.

But in the next second.

Fisk appeared beside her again.

There was a silver spear stuck in his chest.

He walked to the window and saw the man who attacked him downstairs.

It was a man wearing a black one-piece armor.

At the same time, another silver spear flew towards this side.

Fisk dodged by gently turning sideways.

The spear is made of vibranium.

It is precisely because of this.

Only then can you break through Fisk's skin.

It's from Wakanda.

Fisk had a hideous and twisted smile on his face, and he violently pulled out the spear, causing a string of blood to splatter. Then, he stabbed Rachel Van Helsing again with a crazy force, and the spear instantly pierced her abdomen, and the powerful impact nailed her to the wall.

Rachel Van Helsing screamed in pain, blood gushed out of the wound like a fountain, splattering Fisk's face and body, but he didn't care, but became more excited. Her body twitched violently, and her eyes were full of despair and fear.

Fisk twisted the spear like a demon, crushing her internal organs. Blood continued to flow from Rachel Van Helsing's mouth, and she tried to make a final cry, but could only make indistinct whimpers.

Then, Fisk ruthlessly pulled the spear out, and Rachel Van Helsing's body slid off the wall like a rag.

Before she fell to the ground, Fisk stepped on her chest, pointed the spear at her heart, and stabbed it hard. Her heart was instantly pierced by the spear, and blood spurted out, forming a bloody mist around her.

Rachel Van Helsing's eyes were staring, the light of life gone, and her body was broken and unrecognizable.

Fisk watched all this indifferently, licking the blood on his face with his tongue, as if he was enjoying this brutal killing.

He threw Rachel Van Helsing's body out of the window like throwing away garbage, then looked up casually, but suddenly noticed the plane parked overhead.

This is a fighter plane from Wakanda. Its appearance is smooth and full of technology. The fuselage is made of a mysterious vibranium alloy, shining with a unique dark purple luster, reflecting charming light under the sunlight. The wing lines are beautiful and sharp, as if they can easily cut through the sky.

The surface of the fighter is decorated with Wakanda's unique energy lines, which emit a faint blue light, appearing and disappearing from time to time, as if flowing with life, full of mysterious power. In the nose part, there is a huge diamond-shaped gem inlaid, and the gem is shining brightly. That is the core of Wakanda's advanced energy system.

The tail nozzle of the aircraft is uniquely designed, and the blue flame it emits is strong and stable, showing its powerful power system. The entire fighter is like a raptor from the future.

However, this is not the most fatal.

The artillery under the fighter plane was aimed at him accurately.

The cannon had a huge caliber, and the barrel emitted a cold metallic luster, like the mouth of a giant dragon ready to spew deadly flames at any time.

The gun is surrounded by a complex energy circuit, with faint blue light rapidly flowing through the circuit, indicating that it is charging and accumulating enough power to destroy everything.

The inside of the muzzle is deep and dark, as if it is a passage leading to an endless abyss, which makes people shudder.

As energy continued to accumulate, the cannon trembled slightly and emitted a low humming sound, as if sending a final warning to Fisk, foreshadowing the impending devastating blow.

An old man's voice came from the fighter plane: "Give my son Tracha back to me, and I will leave." The voice was full of anger and anxiety, echoing in the air.

Fisk sneered and shouted back, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!

Your son is not with me!"

The man in the fighter plane snorted coldly: "Don't quibble! I already have accurate information. If you don't hand over the person, today will be the day you die!"

Fisk's eyes turned fierce and he said, "Just try it!

If you dare to fire, as long as I don’t die today, I will wipe out all of Wakanda within this month.”

At this moment, the fighter plane's accumulated energy reached its peak, the muzzle flashed brightly, and a fierce conflict was about to break out.

Fisk put one hand behind his back and told the women in the room to leave quickly.

He was confident that he could survive this devastating bombardment.

But the women in the room may not survive.

The black panther below was silent for a moment.

After the spaceship extinguished the muzzle full of destructive power, the light around it gradually dimmed, and then it slowly entered the invisible state. It was like a mysterious ghost, becoming transparent little by little until it completely disappeared, as if it had never appeared.

The old black panther king below began to climb the wall without hesitation. His hands and feet seemed to be attached to the wall, and his movements were swift and powerful. Every move was precise and fast, and his muscles were tense, showing amazing agility and strength. He was like a real black panther, with a strong posture, and quickly approached the direction of the room. In a very short time, he successfully entered the room.

Once inside the room, he removed his helmet.

A middle-aged black face with gray hair starting to appear.

The majestic gaze was fixed on Fisk, with anger burning in his eyes.

"Fisk... or I swear I will make you pay dearly."

Fisk sneered, walked back to the boss's desk, and lit a cigar: "If you keep this attitude, you will never find your son."

The black man's chest heaved violently, and the anger in his heart was like a volcano about to erupt, hot and violent.

He wanted to rush up and tear Fisk into pieces immediately. Every blood vessel in his body was bulging with anger, and every muscle was trembling with restraint.

However, the thought that his son might be in danger and the unknown situation made his heart feel like it was being gnawed by millions of ants.

He knew very well that his impulse might endanger his son's life, so he could only suppress his anger and bury his rage and hatred deep in his heart for the time being.

He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as he said, "Fisk, as long as my son is safe, you can make any conditions you want, but you'd better not play tricks."

Despite his tough tone, his slightly trembling voice still revealed his inner fear and worry.

Fisk smoked his cigar indifferently, and the cigar butt flickered in the room, just like his unpredictable heart.

He put forward his conditions to the middle-aged black man in front of him: "If you want me to let Tracha go, the first condition is that you have to tell me, how did you know that Tracha was in my hands?"

After saying this, he blew out a smoke ring, which slowly rose and spread. His eyes were full of scrutiny and threat, as if he could see through the old Black Panther King's eyes and into his soul.

The old Black Panther King glared at Fisk, the veins on his forehead bulged like a dragon, and the throbbing blood vessels revealed the raging anger in his heart.

But for the safety of his son, he had to suppress his anger and said, "Someone passed the message to me, but I can't tell you who it was."

Fisk sneered, and the laughter sounded particularly harsh in the quiet room. He extinguished the cigar in his hand heavily in the ashtray. "You won't say it? Then there is nothing for us to talk about."

After saying that, he stood up from his chair again and said, "Let's fight!

You seem to be a better hostage."

The old king said hastily: “No, I say!

But you have to keep my son safe."

There was a hint of urgency and helplessness in his voice. The urgency was his worry about his son, and the helplessness was facing Fisk's threat.

Fisk sat down again, a smug smile on his face, a smile full of cunning and greed, "Don't waste my time."

At this time, Fisk was keenly aware of Fisk's deep love for his son, and secretly thought about how to raise the price and squeeze more benefits from this anxious father.

"This old man must have been able to find this place with someone's guidance."

'But why does he care so much about his son?'

'Is he no longer able to have children?'

'Then I'll have to assess the price carefully.'

"It's Crow!"

"Really?" Fisk sneered, and the muscles on his gloomy face twitched slightly. Then he slowly reached out and took out a mobile phone from the table. The movement was neither fast nor slow, and full of oppression.

In person, he called Crow without hesitation.

The call was quickly connected, and Fisk decisively turned on the speakerphone, and Crow's drunken voice instantly came out: "Fisk, what do you want from me?

What business do you want to take care of me at this late hour?

The flesh trade is also OK.”

Fisk cursed with a smile, and heard the heavy metal sound coming from the other side. It seemed that Klaue was enjoying himself somewhere at this moment. "Some people said that you betrayed me and leaked the information about Tracha to others."

As soon as Fisk said this, the line became much quieter.