Chapter 133 The Woven Web
"Hey!"
Kama Taj's spell training ground.
James looked suspiciously at the little mage apprentice who was squatting beside him. Xiao Li's dark round face was a little purple, and he even wondered if this kid was a little hypoxic on the plateau.
"I said, can you do it?"
The teleportation portal that had just drawn half an arc in front of Xiao Li suddenly emitted a puff of green smoke and dissipated. He held his left arm flat like petrified, with a hanging ring on his fingertips, and turned his head to look at James with a resentful expression.
"It's all your fault, whoosh, it almost made it!"
Knowing that James was leaving, the apprentice of the mage insisted on sending him himself, claiming that he had mastered the use of the suspension ring and was able to draw a space portal, but the distance between Karma Taj and the Holy of Holies in New York was extremely large, and his current half-baked level , is still choking.
James smiled embarrassingly, and argued:
"Isn't this your basic move? I think it's a mage—"
"The nest is not the best among the master apprentices!"
James turned his head and looked at a few young apprentices practicing basic magic gestures in the corner.
He quietly looked at Xiao Li's serious appearance, with a slight smile on the corner of his mouth.
This kid's aptitude is estimated to be the worst in the entire Karma Taj. James wondered if there is any external force that can be used to improve the practice of these mages, and whether they can help him.
"It's done! It's a big pot."
Xiao Li jumped up excitedly, shouting proudly, this is the best time he has completed the teleportation spell.
"That's right! Then I'll be leaving now. Thank you for your portal. It's convenient for you to go anywhere anyway. I will often visit you in the Holy of Holies in New York."
James looked at the little apprentice who had just gotten excited, and then turned to deflate his mouth, and said helplessly:
"You have to become an official mage to apply for a garrison in the Holy of Holies, I can't go now"
He patted Xiao Li on the shoulder, took out the last two boxes of "Golden Apple" cigars from his arms, looked at this "fellow townsman" who was still a half-grown child, and said earnestly:
"Don't smoke too much, no matter what kind of cigarettes you smoke too much, it's not good, hurry up and practice, when you come to New York, big brother has plenty of good places to show you."
James looked around the Karma Taj Sanctuary for the last time. His good impression of this place was fundamentally derived from the cultural inheritance of the mystics, and there were too many traces of China.
Turn your head and step through the light gate, and come to the Holy of Holies at No. 177 Black Street, New York. After exchanging greetings with Master Mark, you return to the noisy streets of downtown New York again.
Strolling on the street for a while, James randomly picked up a "Washington Times" hanging in front of the newsstand. The front page was Professor Charles Xavier with Hank McCoy, and several variants he hadn't seen photo of people.
Looking at Charles' handsome face with high spirits, James glanced at the content on the front page, shook his head and said softly:
"From now on, you will be regarded as relatives after all. I have to save you."
Dr. Bolivar Trask has been gaining more and more voice in the SHIELD Strategic Technology Research and Development Department since he was valued by Director Hoover.
And this dwarf who is less than 1.4 meters tall does have real skills in his big brain and is extremely talented in scientific research.
In addition to his research in the field of genes and genetics, Dr. Trask is currently trying to combine his research on artificial intelligence, robots and autonomous ballistic missiles, planning to create an epoch-making and most effective mutant defense army system.
However, the top priority at the moment is to complete the task of the boss, Director Hoover. Since the serum was injected, the desire for control and ambition of this "shadow leader" has rapidly expanded, and the penetration and mastery of S.H.I.E.L.D. has basically been completed.
In the entire United States, except that the federal army is not under Hoover's control, there is almost no power in government agencies that he can't touch.
"Sir, this is the experimental report and data of the drug, please-"
"Bolívar, tell me the result directly, to what extent it can be achieved."
Hoover was drinking whiskey and smoking a cigar in the S.H.I.E.L.D. office. His slightly protruding eyebrows looked even more frightening, and his facial features were slightly deformed.
Dr. Trask organized the language and said seriously:
"Sir, since we can't do experiments on 'targets', we can only do comparisons on ordinary people, super soldiers, and a few mutants. Since these mutants don't have that special ability, their resistance is similar to that of ordinary people. Humans are no different."
"You don't need to think about it. You have done a good job. The research and development of the medicine must continue. With it, we can control the power of these mutants once and for all."
After listening to Edgar Hoover's last orders and arranging some things, Dr. Trask left the smoky office.
After the serum transformation, Mr. Director indulged his various desires, not just wanton tobacco and alcohol
Trask looked at an officer-like gentleman wearing a green training uniform waiting outside the office, and nodded slightly. He only knew that this person was Major Stryker from the Institute of Mutant Forces, but he was not satisfied with the responsibility of Mr. Major. Nothing is known about the task.
Hoover has his own chess pieces in too many corners of the United States. He is like a real web-spinning spider. Every silk thread controls a puppet, and he uses it to achieve the goal he wants to achieve.
Most of these puppets know nothing about each other. They only hold a small part of the secrets. Only Hoover has an overview of the whole situation, and only he can see the shape of this net and its final shape.
Snapped!
"Take a break, let's talk."
After saluting, Major William Stryker opened the file under his arm and reported the situation of the X special team he was forming.
"Sir, relying on Professor Xavier's brainwave search, a total of 168 mutants were screened out in the US military, including 154 non-commissioned officers and enlisted soldiers, and 12 lieutenants. One hundred and fifty people entered the research base"
Hoover has always had a brain with an excellent memory, and he holds too many secrets that cannot be put on paper in his heart. After listening to Major Stryker's general report, he easily arranged:
"Select soldiers with abilities, backgrounds, suitable and obedient soldiers, and pull up the team first. Those with mutant abilities that are useless can be directly used as research materials, and those who refuse to obey will be temporarily detained. Their social information will be processed by someone, and the existing records will be destroyed. "
Hoover spread out his palms, and Major Stryker hurriedly handed over the records. He looked at the profiles of several officers with relatively strong family relationships, and continued casually:
"Don't worry about these few. What you have is enough for the time being. There will only be more and more in the future. Do it well. A new era is coming, Mr. Major."
"Yes! Thank you for planting."
After laying out two "silk lines" one after another, Hoover finally thought about it, picked up the secret line phone from under the table, and dialed a number.
He had been listening to what was said on the other end of the phone. After a while, Hoover didn't say a word until he hung up the receiver.
Leaning on the comfortable leather chair back, Hoover finally drank the wine in the glass. The muscles on his face suddenly twitched. It seemed that the right half of his face had given birth to his own consciousness.
And the remaining half is still drooping and meticulous.
Until he subconsciously glanced at the reflection of the glass cabinet door in front of the desk, Hoover realized that the right half of his face was grinning wonderfully, expressing the most true emotions in his heart.
Edgar Hoover pressed his twitching cheek with his hand, leaving behind the still cold and deep side, silent like a dead thing.
Beep!
Sean Cassidy controlled the intensity as much as possible. He controlled the power with a small whistle, but it still not only destroyed the three rows of tempered glass in front of him, but also shattered more than half of the lenses in the studio.
The recording of the program had to be suspended for a while, "Sir-Monster" rubbed his head, his face was as red as his curly red hair,
The audience and host at the scene burst into thunderous applause after a brief scream of fright. Even the vice president and director of the TV station looked excited and didn't care about the damage to these instruments.
This first TV show to showcase the power of mutants is sure to get sky-high ratings.
"Stuck! The recording of the show is suspended, everyone take a break, and get a new machine quickly! Don't worry about it, young man, you are great!"
The on-site drama was arranged neatly. The host and Charles communicated in low voices about the issues they wanted to discuss in the next session. Miss "Angel" took out a makeup box to refill her lipstick. War Police" signed a group photo.
"Professor like this, the topic of the next paragraph may be more acute, about the kind of harm that mutants with special talents will bring to society once they embark on the path of crime."
Charles nodded solemnly. He had already prepared a draft in his heart, and the interview this morning has been going well so far.
Responding to various interview questions wisely and appropriately, and positively introducing the group of mutants to the public, is the most important task at the moment.
Suddenly, there were several screams from outside the studio. A man in a large suit ran in madly. He ran into several ladies in the aisle and ignored them. He found the director of the program and the senior executives of the TV station who were watching, and said something fiercely. .
Charles Xavier frowned and rubbed his forehead lightly. His eyes were momentarily dull and his face was stiff. The words of the hostess around him seemed to be floating in an unknown distance.
Charles "saw" the message in the head of the man who came in to announce the news.
Just less than an hour ago, President John F. Kennedy was shot and killed after his campaign speech in Dallas.
Died instantly.
(end of this chapter)