Marvel Space and Time Administration Growth Log

1-27 Shock

"Sir... We just learned that Mr. Hammerhead has fallen asleep forever." Charon took out his cell phone and called his boss. Half an hour after the AR team completed the attack mission, the news had already begun to spread in the underground world of New York.

"...This is really amazing good news. Although Mr. Hammerhead is not a good person, I hope he can pay off all his debts." Winston didn't even ask who did it. There are many capable people in New York, but there are not many people in New York who can launch a surprise attack and kill a group of bosses so easily. And unfortunately, there is a bastard who can do this and is cruel enough to live in his hotel.

And Winston knew very well that about half of the bounty on Lancer's head was contributed by this drug dealer who tried to force Lancer to buy the arms. It was nothing, just that Lancer had burned down more than a dozen warehouses. The relationship between the two was not a life-and-death struggle, but at least a mortal enemy. And this hostile relationship ended at the end of today, when this stubborn guy was killed by Lancer.

Winston opened a bottle of wine, poured himself a glass, made the sign of the cross, and drank it all in one gulp, his eyes flickering as if he was thinking something.

"All fees have been paid." Charon said with a smile. For them, there was nothing worth caring about. Their hotel usually did not directly affect the cause. The hotel was just a platform for holding force. As for the life and death of the person who put the bounty, well...is this something the platform needs to worry about?

"Oh, that's really the only slightly happier thing in this unfortunate incident." Winston silently made the sign of the cross again, and the sad expression on his face immediately disappeared. "Notify them, after all, many people will be surprised to hear this news."

"The news should have spread, after all..." Charon knocked on the door gently, walked into Winston's office, and handed him the phone. On it was a slightly blurry photo. In a building that seemed to be abandoned, a bloody corpse was hung upside down there, but it was vaguely recognizable as Hammerhead.

"...a perfect demonstration. If someone above hadn't asked Lancer to give in, what do you think I would have done?" After taking a few glances, Winston put on a somewhat stiff smile on his face, but he didn't seem to care too much.

"There are probably plenty of suitable places in the hotel," Charon said softly, his expression somewhat happy that he had escaped. "I'm sure you don't want to know his plan for this."

"That's right!" Winston drank it all again. "Respectfully, Mr. Lancer, kind-hearted."

Are the large number of assassins a problem for Lanser? Whenever a gun is pointed at him, the girls around him will start to slaughter them. Even the emperor who usually looks easy to talk to will show his anti-aircraft rapid-fire gun with a frosty face to let the other party know that you can't touch your child.

"Send some snacks and wine to the person in the presidential suite. Gratitude is a virtue." Winston nodded to Charon, who nodded and walked out of Winston's office. After Charon closed the door, Winston let out a long sigh, pulled his collar, then picked up the wine glass on the table, took two big gulps, and his face became gloomy.

"Knock, knock!" A waitress pushed a food cart to the door of the presidential suite of the Continental Hotel in New York and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?!" The cold voice clearly showed that he was not in a good mood.

"..." The waitress twitched her lips. The other party's voice might not be a big deal, but the series of bolt-pulling sounds really made the waitress with a lip ring feel cold behind her. After all, as a waitress in a mainland hotel, she felt that the sound of a pistol being loaded and an assault rifle being loaded were still easy to distinguish. There was no doubt that there were at least three assault rifles in the room with bolts pulled, and they were most likely pointing at the door. If she said something wrong, there would be hundreds of holes in her body with blood gushing out.

"This is the room service provided by the Continental Hotel..." the waitress said hurriedly, feeling her calves twitching a little, "It's a special gift from our manager Winston."

"Click..." The door opened with a

A beautiful woman with a gentle smile stood in front of the waitress and directly lifted the cover of the dining cart. "It all looks good."

"Haruta, is there a problem?" RO635, who had just dried his hair, tilted his head. Theoretically, it was poisonous, but it didn't seem to be a problem for them. After all, it could still poison them to death, right? But their commander was just an ordinary person, so he could not be poisoned by the other party.

"It doesn't look like there is any, but... take a bite, or you should know what will happen." Chuntian looked at the waitress in front of him with a smile.

"Gulp." The waitress swallowed unnaturally under Springfield's gaze. What else could happen? Although the Continental Hotel has a rule that guns are not allowed in the hotel, the group of people in front of them never cared! Last time, the New York Hotel was full of bullet holes, so the restraint of this rule on them... is probably unlimited and close to zero. "Okay, it's my honor."

Under Springfield's gaze, the waitress picked up two knives and forks from the cutlery tray, and following Mrs. Springfield's instructions, she cut a piece from each dish on the dining cart and put it into her stomach. Then she drank a glass of wine, trying her best to keep a non-awkward smile on her face.

"Okay, come in." Chuntian nodded, indicating that she could come in.

The waitress forced a business smile on her face, but it was too stiff, and SOPII, who saw the smile from behind the door, snickered.

"Hello... Mr. Lancer." The waitress took a deep breath, managed to even out her breathing, then nodded towards Lancer to show her friendliness.

"Put it down. Can we collect the dining car when you check out tomorrow morning?" Lanser raised his eyebrows. Although logically speaking, the waitress in front of him should have a look of at least 7 points, and even with the added bonus of her figure, she could barely get a 7.5 point.

However, the series of large lip rings, the dark eye shadow, the large tattoo on the arm, and the comparison with the girls around him made Lancer give her a zero score and signaled the waitress to leave immediately if she was fine.

"Of course! That's not a problem." The waitress nodded immediately. It was just a dining cart. It was impossible to argue with Lancer! "Do you want me to put it on the table for you?"

"No, we can do it ourselves." Lanser said with a smile, "Oh, by the way, RO, give the thing you brought back to the lady in front of you, as a tip."

"I see." RO635 took out a gold-plated 1911 from his waist and placed it in front of the waitress.

"..." The waitress was stunned for a moment when looking at the 1911. Although she was not a big shot or a remarkable character, she at least understood one thing, that this kind of 1911 was usually the bad taste of some big shots, representing status and also some special personal identity.

Many people know that Hammerhead has a gold-plated 1911, including the waitress in front of him. The waitress did not hesitate. She took the gun and respectfully wished Lancer and the others a perfect evening, then turned and went to the manager's office.

"You can choose to keep it, or exchange it for... 3 gold coins." Winston looked at the waitress, looked at the golden 1911 in her hand, reached out and took it, played with it for a while, it didn't matter whether it was Hammerhead's gun or not. All of New York knew that Hammerhead was dead today. As for who it was, a pistol couldn't prove anything.

"Gold coins, sir." The waitress made a choice immediately without thinking too much. Why did she keep this broken pistol at home? Was she waiting for someone to steal it, or was she waiting for a killer to suddenly appear in her room for this pistol and then shoot her to death? In their industry, even if they were hotel clerks from the mainland who were not directly involved in the killings, it would be a very dangerous thing once their identities were exposed, not to mention holding such a deadly thing in their hands.

"A wise decision." Winston took out three gold coins from the drawer and handed them to the waitress. "Remember."

"I'm just here to respond to your inquiry." The waitress said with her head down, and then she felt her hand sink as three slightly warm gold coins fell into her palm.

"This is Mr. Lancer's reward for your excellent service. Go down." Winston nodded. Smart people know what things should be kept to themselves. This way they can not only live longer but also get more benefits.

"Sir, is this... confirmed?" After the waitress left, Charon said in surprise, "We didn't notice them at all..."

"No one knows how many sets of hands he has." Winston took a sip of the wine glass in his hand and picked up the gold-plated 1911 from the table. The moment he picked it up, Winston frowned. He put down the wine glass and pressed the magazine release button. "This damn bastard!" Winston was speechless. He even wanted to shoot all the yellow 0.45-inch bullets in the magazine into Lancer's forehead! Full magazine!? Huh? Hammerhead, this rubbish, didn't even have a chance to shoot? !

Subconsciously, Winston released the gun safety, then pulled the bolt, and the eighth bullet fell out. "Oh, dear Lancer, you are such a womanizer!"

"Excuse me, are we going to save it?" Charon's eyes flickered. He didn't expect Lancer to do this.

"No, maybe this gun will be of some use in the future."

1-28 BookMan's Trigger

"The next morning, Lancer and his friends checked out of their rooms, got into the modified bulletproof commercial vehicle (SOPII hand-modified) that John and his friends had brought, and left the hotel from the main entrance.

"Oh, so boring!" SOPII rolled left and right on Lancer's legs. No one knew how she could do this with her flexible body in such a small space.

"Be quiet, you'll disturb the commander's rest!" M4 turned around and glared at his noisy dog. Last night, they were very busy in the first half of the night, and they were also very busy in the second half of the night! After all, it's rare to live in the same room, isn't it? This round of tossing and turning, it seems that Lancer basically didn't sleep all night.

"Huh?" SOP stood up from Lancer's legs, looked at M4 in the front row with a stern face, pouted, but still lay obediently on Lancer's legs, then reached out and touched Lancer's legs, like a good cat.

"You idiot!" Lanser flicked SOPII's forehead. Expecting him not to cause trouble? He must be dreaming. If it weren't for the backache from last night's tossing and turning, he might have poked SOPII in the face with something.

"Hey!" SOPII smiled proudly, her eyes were particularly wise. She had spent a lot of effort to grab this position. She was not the emperor who was holding Lanser's arm on the other side, so she didn't have to worry about grabbing the position. If she hadn't been quick, she would not have been able to grab this position at all.

"John, were you happy last night?" After Lancer tapped SOPII's forehead, he asked John, who was driving, about their situation last night. After all, as their boss, listening to his personal report was an excellent way to bring employees and bosses closer together.

"That's awesome, boss!" Before John could even open his mouth, he could hear the screams of other guys in his headset. "It's a pity that all the capable fighters on the other side have been blown to death, and the rest are just a bunch of trash."

"Now that we have opened up the route to the Moscow Hotel, we will be able to look for some toys from the former Soviet Union next time, which will be even more exciting." Lancer said with a smile. Yes, he owed Lancer a favor because of the sudden incident with Balalaika, so he simply helped Lancer to build a relationship. In addition to the connection to the Russian mainland, there are also some "key men" in Ukraine.

Lancer planned to contact these key gentlemen after finishing the things here, just in time to get the consolation prize given by BookMan. He hoped that these guys' appetites had not been whetted by the world's arms giants, and then they could visit the warehouse where the Soviet Union prepared military supplies to smash NATO's heads.

You know, after the collapse of the Soviet Union, the equipment that had been prepared for fighting the Third World War for a long time was pushed onto the arms market by the army that suddenly lost control. The army with collapsed faith instantly became the most corrupt group in the world. They almost destroyed the global arms market for light weapons and armored tanks, and warlords all over the world ushered in a wave of systematic arms upgrades.

But, since we have come this far, why not do a little more? For example... why give the goods? Wouldn't it be good to use it to catch the next fool? Then going to Russia and the former Soviet Union to retrieve things from the warehouses has become a high-risk matter.

"Now that the commotion is over, just be quiet!" Fei's mother poked Lancer's cheek, telling him not to get too carried away. "Shouldn't we go back first? The shipyard needs to resume production, the coffee shop in Springfield needs to be cleaned, and some of the stocks we just brought back need to be re-counted! There are still many things to do!"

"Okay, go back and find a lawyer first, then report to the IRS. Have you got M4's tax return documents ready?" Lancer snapped his fingers, indicating to M4 that he needed his own tax return.

"It's done! All the tax reduction clauses that can be taken advantage of have been completed. Oh... BookMan is looking for you." M4 gestured. Lancer's phone... the girls had already installed various patches on it, so the girls had already noticed it as soon as the phone signal came in.

"Oh, a big customer is here to urge me early in the morning. This is really a perfect day!" Lanser had an expression that said "I really thank him for urging me to come to you", but when he answered the phone, the expression on Lanser's face quickly switched to a business smile, which could be called the face-changing version of Sichuan Opera, and it made AR15, who was sitting opposite him, laugh.

"Hey! Old man, you call me so early, do you miss me so much?" Lanser rubbed SOPII's dog head and said with a smile.

"Is it morning already? Well, the FBI has been making calls all night. People in the New York FBI branch are going crazy. They are planning to classify the incident as a terrorist attack. If nothing unexpected happens, their special forces have already begun moving towards New York." Bookman said in a flat tone, but Lancer didn't know why he could hear a great resentment in his seemingly calm tone.

"Hmm... a steak dinner?" Lanser said hesitantly. Lanser knew that Bookman was a foodie.

They chatted with the guy on the public communication channel about delicacies from all over the place for a whole hour, until the staff around them could no longer hold back.

But after ending the call, Lancer and BookMan both felt that they had said everything they needed to say, and the people around them were all confused. After all... Iraqi charcoal-grilled pork belly really doesn't sound just a little strange, but very strange, okay?

"Humph! Ukraine's arsenal..." BookMan sneered. This guy actually wanted to get away with it so easily. This little bastard really didn't know his own weight after not giving him a beating for three days. Every time BookMan thought of this guy and the other troublesome little girl, he always had the urge to go out for a big meal.

"No, no, no..." Lanser immediately began to beg for mercy. This was not a business worth tens of thousands of dollars. No surprises, after a wave of fat, there would be long-term business to do. If this was ruined by this old man BookMan, it would be no joke. It would really be a loss of a small goal! "If you have something to say, tell me."

"Hmph... Hmph!" BookMan felt slightly proud of himself for making this little fox bow his head and admit defeat, but he did not show it. Instead, he continued to speak in a bland tone. He knew very well that the little fox in front of him was an expert at jumping back and forth and pretending to obey but secretly disobeying. But for him, he did not care, as long as he could achieve his goal!

"You are going to Ukraine next, right?" BookMan did not play tricks and pointed out directly, "In addition to the price I gave, you also found some contact methods for 'key figures', right?"

"That's right." Lancer did not deny that he had obtained the resources in this area. The Ukrainian regime is now in a tug-of-war between the pro-American and pro-Russian camps, and the powerful people in Ukraine, now that their faith has collapsed, are mostly fence-sitters who try to please both sides, or they make promises to the people because of various needs such as elections, at least on the surface, they are Western-style democratic factions.

It's just that in terms of the comprehensive influence of both sides, Russia, as the country that inherited most of the power after the disintegration of a certain Red Empire, certainly cannot compete with the United States in terms of influence. Naturally, the Moscow Hotel can act as a go-between and the CIA can also receive corresponding news.

Because of this understanding, Lanser was very clear that the person opposite him knew what had happened, so naturally he did not hide it at all.

"Very good, help us transport some people over there. We'll let you know the location when you arrive in Europe." BookMan sneered and said, "Oh, since you're going, then I'll do the work along the way."

"Boss, you want the Russians to kill me." Lanser sighed. If he did what he asked, wouldn't it be like slapping the Russians in the face? Although he didn't have to worry too much about the other side's tanks hitting his face because of the emperor, Lanser didn't want to do that. After all, he didn't want to do business in the future.

"No, they will thank you." BOOKMAN shook his head. There is no department without factions. Naturally, there are also factions in the CIA. Apart from a small number of mysterious guys who no one knows what they are doing all day long, there are at least four factions competing in this matter.

The first one is a faction composed of certain people who have close ties with the military. They hope to continue to put pressure on Russia, preferably if Russia can respond, so that they can ask Congress for money, military expenses, funds, and money of various names!

Peace... has no money.

As for how much blood will be shed...

They don't care!

Anyway, for them, Russia is already useless. Do they still dare to declare war on NATO?

The second faction represents the will of some senior government officials. What these guys with powerful backers want is more complicated, but in general, they want to help the politicians behind them gain more benefits or rights, and then there are intricate games among all parties.

The third faction is the rational faction represented by BOOKMAN. They agree that it is good for the United States to reduce Russia's living space, but they do not want to push a nuclear power into a dead end! Otherwise, the opponent's counterattack may cause huge losses to the United States, whose hegemony foundation is loosening. It is not worthwhile to exchange such a price for a Russia that has long been on the decline!

So they hope to put pressure on the Russians, but they cannot break the Russians' last nerve.

As for the last group... BOOKMAN himself had great doubts about them. He directly suspected that these people just wanted the world to become more chaotic...

"Huh? Are you kidding me?"

"Because they also had a reason to pull the trigger."

"Pull the trigger and hit me?"

"No, aren't you a good friend of theirs?"

"You old bastard, you better be telling the truth."

1-29 Mr. Film

"It's so bad to be threatened by this old man so early in the morning!" Lanser hung up the phone in a bad mood, put it in SOPII's hand, hugged SOPII and fell on Feidi's thigh. Fei's mother patted her head and said, "Be good! Don't be angry, we won't be angry, we will reward him with a 406 later." She muttered with resentment. But touching Feidi's black silk thighs and SOPII's dog head

, Lanser’s resentment was indeed dissipating quickly.

"Boss, this time the fall was really severe." John, who was driving, looked at Lancer in the back seat, who looked like he was dying, and smiled. Yes, this was their boss who didn't run away; this was also the boss who had launched a wave of deterrence against the entire New York underworld because of the attack on the temporary workers in the shipyard.

"Hmph!" Lancer let out a muffled grunt and even though he had achieved his goal in a certain sense, this revenge had not even begun before he was stopped by a phone call from BOOKMAN. This really made Lancer unhappy. That was why he attacked Thresh later, but before he could be happy for long, he was again manipulated by the old bastard BOOKMAN. This repeated interference made Lancer extremely unhappy.

However, for the time being, Lancer really had no good way to resist the other party. If he confronted the other party head-on, most of the global arms market would say goodbye to Lancer in one breath. After all, the CIA was famous for its failures, especially since he was a semi-illegal person and was engaged in illegal activities. In this regard, Lancer felt that he did not need to doubt that the CIA could ruin his business.

"Commander, Mr. Negative wants to treat you to a home-cooked meal. Are you interested?" Lanser took out her cell phone from SOPII's arms and handed it to Lanser. She had already read the message. Lanser had been struggling before. Wouldn't she have no privacy at all? She struggled for a few days, but this time, even Fei's mother, who always indulged Lanser, did not stand on Lanser's side. They belonged to the commander, and the commander was also theirs. Why did they still want to hide a little secret?

Commander, why are you rebelling?

"Home cooking?" Lanser narrowed his glasses. He and the gang used to keep to themselves. But when some people found that the rules could not touch Lanser, they soon started to think crookedly. Then, as professionals in this field, the gangsters started to have grievances with Lanser. Although they did not carry out 300 bodies a day, they would "set off a string of firecrackers" in some strange places every few days.

However, Mr. Negative saw that Lancer was a Chinese who had a group of very strong gunmen at his disposal, and was considered a rare and ruthless character among Chinese people, so he set up a few tables of tea with Lancer, hoping that Lancer would be a little more tactful, but someone behind him was already unhappy. Of course, neither side was able to convince the other.

It was just that because most of Lancer's business was outside, there was no fundamental conflict of interest, so the relationship between the two remained there. It didn't seem surprising that he made this call today to act as a peacemaker.

"Boss, do you need us to prepare?" John, who was driving, asked softly. To them, Lancer was not just a boss who gave them a job, but a boss who pulled these unlucky guys out of the quagmire of life. Moreover, Lancer treated them very generously, and after many joint missions, they had already become like brothers who were back to back. That was why John asked this question.

"Not for now. This guy specifically mentioned home-cooked food, so we don't need to worry too much. But... Xiaoji, you and Fredette will go with me. The others will stay in the car. John, you guys will protect the shipyard when the time comes, so that we won't be raided by someone making a feint to the east and west."

"Understood." John nodded. Lancer's arrangement was very simple and straightforward, so John and the others agreed without hesitation.

"Springfield, give the key to your coffee shop warehouse to John and the others. If the mice can see the mousetrap, they won't take the bait." Lancer made arrangements. Although it was not particularly far away, this warehouse, which was usually used by Springfield to store some spare materials, could be regarded as a relatively reliable safe house. Moreover, they could use the probes installed by the AR team to observe the situation directly through the Internet.

"This is the password!" Chuntian sent a string of numbers to John, "One-time password, remember to leave someone in the room to open the door. But don't touch my things." Chuntian glanced at John and said something half jokingly and half warningly.

"Understood!" John nodded. "Don't worry, we won't touch your coffee beans, but we may take some of your weapons and ammunition."

"That's not a big deal." Lancer nodded with a smile, because the salary was enough, and these bastards really did treat Azur Lane as their own home. Sometimes these guys would be even more stingy with the company's money than Lancer.

"Are we going back then?" AR15 looked at Lancer in confusion. Since he had received the invitation, it seemed that he had to go over for dinner?

"Go back and take a shower, catch up on some sleep, and then go out comfortably in the afternoon. Negative Film is not a good person either." Lanser replied to Mr. Negative Film while speaking, "So it's dinner? Do you want me to bring champagne?"

"Why drink champagne? I have the best Shaoxing yellow wine. Tonight, the two of us brothers will prepare some snacks and have a few drinks." The film seemed very satisfied with Lanser's quick response. He was very excited in his response. "After I finish the work at the charity center this afternoon, I will be waiting for you at Chunxi Tower."

"Okay, see you later." Lanser nodded, and it seemed that he was going to have a good chat with him again. This time, the hammer was simply

Hanging outside the building, these gangster bosses understood one thing for the first time: most of the time, Lancer was too lazy to pay attention to them. If a conflict really broke out between the two sides, the price they would have to pay was not something they could afford.

So at this time, there is still a good bridge between them and Lancer. For them, it is to contact him immediately, at least to prevent Lancer from simply preparing to launch a purge on everyone. After all, New York is big, but it is also small. They will definitely not be happy about a guy like Lancer who is obviously likely to put his hand into their bowl. So even if they did not directly participate in this matter, they still know clearly whether they have promoted the fermentation of this matter.

However, they originally thought that the Continental Hotel, which would be met with Lancer's wrath, was not blown up. On the contrary, the client who was supposed to be kept confidential was pulled out by Lancer and shot with bullets. As accomplices, they did not want this at all. As for the direct confrontation with Lancer, under the good example of Hammerhead, their hearts are now beating like the emperor's engine. They can ignore the lives of their younger brothers, but they must protect their own lives.

The car soon stopped in front of Mrs. Springfield's coffee shop. Lancer and his girls jumped out of the car, and John and the others drove away.

"It seems that no idiots came here last night, so I will have one less reason to bang on the table later." Lancer looked around the coffee shop inside and out. It was just an ordinary day. Mrs. Springfield next to him rolled her eyes as she removed the wooden boards outside the coffee shop. Yes, because the law and order in New York is gradually getting worse, so some necessary precautions must be taken.

To be honest, this has little to do with the professional ability of the New York police. On the contrary, the police themselves are very annoyed by these trivial matters. But who made them encounter something that made them even more upset recently? New York politics is controlled by the Democratic Party of the United States. Although the infamous $950 law did not appear, many policies that the police are very disgusted with have begun to show signs.

In addition, New York is a place of great convenience favored by all kinds of evildoers. Except for the wealthy areas where a few rich people live, the public security in most areas of New York can be ensured during the day. But at night, shops like the one opened by Mrs. Springfield have begun to learn the traditional form of traditional Chinese shops, installing door panels. The wealthy ones have composite door panels with metal interlayers, while the poor ones use ordinary solid wood boards.

Although it can't stop intruders, it at least increases the difficulty for them to break in. If there are careless fools on the street, they will definitely choose the one with lower difficulty. At least Mrs. Springfield's coffee shop is famous not only for its relatively cheap breakfast coffee set, but also for the M1903 Springfield rifle hanging in the lobby as a decoration, in various senses.

"Ah...it seems that Peter is still very capable." Mrs. Chuntian took a look at the cakes in the refrigerator and found that they were all gone. She then looked at the secret compartment under the cash register and found some extra cash. She took it out and counted it. Chuntian nodded with satisfaction and said, "Let's make a cake for him to take home today. His aunt will like it."