Beauty Comic Cultivation Record

A yellow taxi stopped in Wayne, and the black taxi driver wearing a baseball cap patted the sleeping passenger on the passenger side.

"Hey sir, here we come!"

"Hmm!" John Constantine opened his hazy sleepy eyes, stretched out his hand to rub the gum in the corners of his eyes, yawned, and looked out the window.

"We're here!" John Constantine's consciousness was still a little blurry when he saw the majestic manor door.

"Sir, if your destination is Wayne Manor, that's right!" The black man looked at the slovenly man in front of him, whose total clothing cost was no more than three hundred dollars, and he couldn't figure out why he came here.

You must know that the Wayne family is the richest family in Gotham City. Even the taxi company where he works is owned by the Wayne family.

He didn't think the man in front of him who looked very downcast could be related to the Wayne family.

"Hey, sir, the total fare is fifty dollars!" the black driver said quickly as he looked at John who was about to get out of the car when he opened the door.

The black driver shouted as he quietly opened the storage box below. There was a loaded .45-caliber semi-automatic pistol kept there all year round, to guard against anyone who wanted to evade the bill.

After all, this is Gotham City, a city with simple folk customs. If you don't have a few brushes, you can't be a taxi driver.

John Constantine turned around and glanced at the black driver's hand, obviously noticing his little movement. He opened the door to himself. Just when the black driver was about to take out his gun, he took out a gun from his trench coat pocket. He knocked out a cigar from a cigar box inlaid with sapphires and diamonds and held it in his mouth.

"Don't worry! The payer will be here soon, and your tip will not be missed!" John Constantine looked back at the black driver, raised his hand and waved towards the gate surveillance of Wayne Manor.

The black driver looked at John, who was leaning in front of the car door and puffing away. After thinking for a while, he finally didn't take out the gun from the storage box, but he didn't take his hand out either and kept it on the handle of the pistol. superior.

About three to four minutes later, the electric gate of Wayne Manor slowly opened, and Bruce Wayne, wearing a gray suit, appeared at the entrance of the manor driving a golf cart.

"Thank you! Sorry to trouble you!"

Bruce Wayne bowed his head gently and handed a one hundred dollar bill to the black driver.

The driver looked at Bruce Wayne in surprise, and then at John Constantine who was walking towards the golf cart. He really couldn't understand why two people with such a huge identity gap knew each other.

However, the taxi driver who has been driving in Gotham City for seven or eight years has not had any accidents because he remembers his old father's wise words: speak less and read less.

This is why he has lived peacefully in Gotham City for decades.

Watching the yellow taxi driver step on the accelerator and drive away, Bruce Wayne walked straight to the golf cart and looked at the sleepy John Constantine sitting in the back seat with strange eyes.

He raised his eyebrows, "If I hadn't confirmed that you were alone in the hotel yesterday, I would have thought you called seven or eight call girls!"

"I summoned two hellish succubi to play with me until dawn, can't you!?"

Bruce Wayne was silenced by Constantine's straightforwardness. He got into the driver's seat of the golf cart and drove the scooter.

As the top wealthy family in Gotham City, the Wayne family's estate is also one of the largest in size. Not only does it have a supporting horse farm and golf course, but the garden lawn in the estate is enough for ordinary people to walk for several 10 minutes, so the maids and servants are there Traveling within the manor is usually done by means of a scooter.

As the golf cart drove into Wayne Manor, the gate to the manor slowly closed.

On the treetops dozens of meters away from the gate, two ant-sized figures were standing on the leaves.

"Captain! Here comes another one, it looks like he should be John Constantine!"

"John Constantine? Who is he, a superhero like Batman!?"

Captain America, who had shrunk into the form of Ant-Man, looked at Hawkeye. As an antique who had been sleeping for more than 70 years, he knew Batman and Superman.

But I don’t know much about John Constantine. After all, when DC created this character, he was already frozen at the bottom of the sea.

"He is a man who is both good and evil. According to his performance in the comics, he is considered an anti-hero!" Hawkeye in the form of Ant-Man explained to Captain America.

"The meaning of anti-heroes is that their subjective consciousness is good, but their style of doing things is often a little outrageous!" Hawkeye then added.

Captain America nodded, indicating that he understood!

"No matter who he is, after Tony and Natasha rescue Star-Lord and get the quantum shuttle device, we will leave here! This is not the universe we are looking for!"

Hawkeye nodded, but he subconsciously touched the quiver behind him and looked at Wayne Manor not far away, full of excitement.

Green Arrow’s Oliver Queen, I don’t know which one of them has the better archery skills.

"Tony asked us to keep the communication silent because of the reformer named Cyborg. He has very strong abilities?"

"Cyborg's body has been modified by an alien technology. Theoretically, he has the ability to crack artificial intelligence encrypted communications. That's why Mr. Stark told us to be careful!"

"I see you know a lot about comics? Do you like these things?" Captain America looked at Hawkeye, inexplicably thinking of the agent who liked to collect his own cards.

Hawkeye's eyes suddenly dimmed, "My daughter likes the superheroes in these comics. Her favorite is Wonder Woman! She thinks it's cool!"

"Sorry, Patton! I didn't know-" Captain America quickly expressed his apology to Hawkeye.

Hawkeye Button shook his head: "It's okay, captain, we do all this to bring back the lost ones, I should thank you, thank you for leading us, so that we will not lose confidence!"

Captain America looked at the sad Barton. He looked at Wayne Manor not far away, and suddenly said to Hawkeye: "Go back and ask for an autograph and photo from Wonder Woman before we leave. I want to wait for you." When my daughter comes back, she will love this gift!”

Hawkeye looked at Captain America in astonishment. At this time, Captain America's face had turned away again, staring at the movement of Wayne Manor with piercing eyes.

"Before I leave, can I have a test of archery with Oliver Queen? I've always wanted to know which of us is the better archer!" Watching Captain America remain silent, Hawkeye added:
"My daughter wants to know too!"

Captain America had a dark look on his face, and the emotion he just felt was instantly gone, and he even had the urge to smash out the shield in his hand.

Give back my emotion, bastard!

Hawkeye looked at Captain America, who had his back turned to him, sighed quietly, and touched the bear keychain on his waist, which was a birthday gift from his daughter.

He doesn't need anyone to pity him, he will find his true love, he will!
Bruce Wayne did not drive towards the main building of the manor in his golf cart, but deviated from the main road and drove towards a trail. The bumpy road suddenly woke up the drowsy John Constantine.

He rubbed his forehead, took out the cigar box dotted with sapphires from his brown windbreaker, took out a cigar from it, trimmed it, lit it,

He raised his head and met Bruce Wayne's sharp gaze in the rearview mirror.

"Take one of the high-end stuff rubbed out from the thighs of Cuban girls!"

Bruce Wayne looked at the oak cigarette case inlaid with sapphires that Constantine handed over, glanced at the logo made of broken diamonds on the cigarette case, and silently memorized it.

"You know I never smoke!" Bruce Wayne declined Constantine's kindness and said instead: "Look at you, you are getting rich!"

Bruce Wayne knows his old friend. Although he possesses black magic methods that are difficult for ordinary people to understand, he is actually a poor man.

It cannot be said that he is poor. The little money he earns from exorcisms is spent either on buying magic weapons, drinking, smoking, or looking for call girls. Many times, he does not have more than 1000 yuan.

As for why Bruce Wayne knows so much, after all, the Wayne Group controls many banks, one of which has John Constantine's bank account!
As for the bank that Bruce Wayne bought first, and the account that Constantine opened again,

Or because Constantine opened an account in this bank first, Wayne Group took action to acquire this bank, so it’s a matter of opinion!

Anyway, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, has a defense list in his encrypted computer, and the one at the top of the list is naturally the God on Earth, Super!
However, John Constantine's name never dropped out of the top five.

After all, this old friend has a long criminal record, and many incidents of magic out of control are in some way related to him.

Although he took the initiative to invite his old friend John Constantine to Gotham this time, just to be on the safe side, Bruce Wayne used all means, including two surveillance satellites and cameras throughout the city, to monitor this black man. Every move of the magic master.

He doesn't want to wake up and find Gotham City full of raging demons. Those villains are enough to give him a headache!

So, at Gotham Dam, Bruce Wayne knew all about the little things John Constantine did after he left.

But due to his lack of understanding of black magic, he didn't know what Constantine's purpose was in drawing that magic circle!
"You said this, this is the reward I promised to help a big shot, and he gave me in advance!"

John Constantine shook the cigar box towards Bruce Wayne and stuffed the cigar box back into his windbreaker.

This cigar box was no ordinary cigarette box. It had some kind of spatial magic that he couldn't understand, and cigars could be drawn out continuously from it.

For a smoker like him, this thing would not be replaced even if it was a magic weapon. John Constantine smoked a cigar and closed his eyes slightly, using the cigar to relieve the swelling in his head.

He expected Little Bat to spy on him. He knew this guy well and was on guard against all dangers, even among his own people.

The reason for his headache and lethargy was not because he actually summoned two succubi to party all night long, although he had done this before.

He studied all night last night, trying to find out the magic mark left on him by the dimensional evil god named Tang, but he tried all kinds of magic, from the black magic of Solomon's period to the sacred prayers of heaven, to some demons The spells were all unsuccessful,
Even though he used a feather taken from the wing of Archangel Gabriel as a medium, he still couldn't find the magic that Tang had exerted on himself.

He didn't leave any tricks on himself. No, this was definitely impossible. He used himself to save others. Constantine didn't believe that the guy didn't leave any tricks on himself. It was just that it was obvious that his tricks were beyond his understanding.

If he wanted to find an evil god and the curse magic cast by the devil, based on his many years of experience in the field of magic, he had to first know the origin of that Tang.

"Perhaps, I should make time to go to the hospital another day. I remember telling Geli that her mentor is a mystical scholar from the East!"

John Constantine touched a string of crystal clear bone beads on his wrist and thought of a certain mixed-race witch he met during an exorcism.

He felt that he should go to the East. Maybe there were records about the Tang Dynasty in Eastern mysticism.

The golf cart drove along the path towards the back of the manor, where there was a waterfall, and behind the waterfall was the bat cave.

Neither Bruce Wayne nor John Constantine noticed that there were two small things like flying ants following closely behind the white golf cart.

"We searched the entire manor but couldn't find Star-Lord. It looks like he was hidden in the Batcave!"

The shrunken Black Widow has propellers under her feet and follows Iron Man in the form of Ant-Man.

"Tony, it's hard to imagine that the people in comics actually exist. Do you think it's possible that we are also people in comic stories!? Superheroes, Iron Man and the Avengers. This setting is too similar to comics. Got it!"

A trace of confusion flashed in Black Widow's eyes. If she was really a caricature created by someone, she actually didn't understand the meaning of her life.

She received inhuman training in the Red Room, worked for the empire that collapsed for more than ten years, and then joined S.H.I.E.L.D., working hard for the so-called world peace, with the blood of countless people on her hands.

Even sacrificing the right to be a mother for this,

She is different from Tony Stark and Hawkeye. They have their own families, but she has nothing!

Telling her now that everything she did was just a story created by others was hard for her to accept.

"Comic, I don't think anyone can create a guy as smart as Tony Stark," Tony in Ant-Man form noticed something was wrong with Natasha's tone, and he said consolingly: "The knowledge I have, and The steel suit and the Ark reactor I created, I don’t think a bunch of nerds who draw comics have this kind of knowledge! They can’t even understand junior high school physics.”

"Well, maybe the stories of our world were captured by the surface consciousness of people in other universes, and they recorded the information in the form of comics, forming comics!"

"Just like here, this Wayne Manor, if it were really a comic book world, wouldn't we have traveled from a three-dimensional world to a two-dimensional world? This is physically impossible!"

With Tony Stark's relief, Natasha finally felt a lot better. She turned to look at the golf cart in front of her and asked curiously:
"Tony, why don't we find Batman directly and show that this is all a misunderstanding? After all, in DC comics, Batman and the Justice League he represents have always been the side of justice!"

Tony Stark was silent for a moment: "We can't trust things in comics, and regardless of whether Bruce Wayne is a good person or not, Pym particles and Ant-Man suits cannot fall into his hands. We cannot use the security of our universe to Betting on a person’s character, even though he is Batman!”

"I understand!" Natasha nodded.

Tony Stark looked at the golf cart not far away, and looked at the back of the man in the driver's seat with a deep look. There was another reason that Tony Stark did not tell Natasha.

He saw a reflection of himself in Bruce Wayne, and he had a feeling that the two were the same person.

Even if they reveal their identities, with Batman's defensive character, they will secretly leave a backup of Pym particles as a counterattack plan in case he develops quantum travel.

Judging from the endless emergence of super villains in DC comics, this technology may one day fall into the hands of those super villains.
Then their already devastated universe would be even more dangerous.

Therefore, this time we must get back the Ant-Man suit and Pym particles. Tony Stark is keeping an eye on Bruce Wayne.

His gaze was so intense that Bruce Wayne, who was holding the steering wheel, subconsciously turned around. Except for a bush and flowers that were too short to hide, there was nothing behind him. There was no trace of a human being anywhere.

At Canary Restaurant in Gotham City, there is an endless stream of people dining here at noon.

“Today’s pastry was calamari ravioli in lemongrass soup, roquefort and arugula Caesar salad, main course was swordfish pâté with onion marmalade, roasted quail breast half-cooked with blackberry sauce, baked pie with sorrel filling, fried Barbeque hare with chips, red silk fish with violets and pine nuts.”

The waiter in white uniform and black tie smiled and reported today's special meal with a modest smile. The background sound is the melodious violin playing live.

Looking around, under the soft light, the gentleman's suit and leather shoes, his hair was combed meticulously, and his watch was inadvertently exposed from his cuffs, showing to the outside world that he has the function of not only telling the time but also revealing his wealth.

As for the lady, she was charming and smiling, and took out a slender women's cigarette from the cigarette case through the black lace gloves. After lighting the cigarette, she flicked her hair back, revealing her slender and fair collarbone to the man.

In the corner of the Canary Restaurant, where the view is the widest, behind the dining table, a group of obviously gang members were guarding a fat middle-aged man. .

This man was wearing a tuxedo suit and a pitch-black top hat. He was obese and severely hunched over. His head was as thick as a melon at the top and bottom. His extremely sharp aquiline nose almost poked his lips. He had a single piece with a thin gold frame. The glasses are perched on the bridge of the nose.

But no one in the restaurant dared to laugh at the man's appearance, and no one even looked in that direction to avoid misunderstanding.

The Penguin, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblet, was born with a deformity. He was born into the declining Cobblet family. He started as an umbrella boy, intrigued, fought openly and secretly, fought with the same party and opposed the different, and stepped on the withered bones step by step. Finally ascending to the position of the leader of the Gotham gang, his inspiration can be called the Gotham version of Helen Keller.

After becoming the rule-maker of Gotham's underground world, Penguin did not stand still. He devoted himself to the business world and transformed the originally messy slums into a diamond district that symbolized high-end leisure and entertainment. —and this is just a cover for money laundering.

Later, Penguin devoted himself to the political world, relying on political means such as soliciting bribes, blackmail threats, and carefully packaged campaign slogans, he quickly won the election of the previous Gotham mayor.

However, the world changed, and Mr. Cobblepot, who was both vicious and majestic, still lost to Batman, was dragged off the mayor's throne, and was imprisoned in the Arkham Asylum.

After his subordinates figured out a way to get him out, Penguin, who felt that he was behind the times, gradually retired, no longer caring about gang affairs, just guarding his own one-acre three-point land for the elderly, and haunting his own territory every day , eat, listen to music.

At this moment, judging from the gang members standing in front of the Penguin's desk, trembling like elementary school students being trained for their mistakes, and not daring to show their anger, the Penguin's influence in the underground world of Gotham City has not weakened at all. .

"I heard that my bar was smashed last night! I need an explanation. Has Gotham City forgotten the Cobot family?"

A bald man on the side had sweat pouring down his forehead. He bent at [-] degrees and said, "Boss, it's not that we don't want to take care of it. It's Harley Quinn, that crazy woman. She got into a fight with a woman in the bar." !”

"Harley Quinn." Penguin scratched his fat double chin, "Who was the woman who fought with her? Did you catch her?"

Penguin is still quite wary of Harley Quinn or the madman behind her. After all, he has many industries in Gotham, and the madman who likes to play with explosions has no scruples.

It's not that he's a coward, he just doesn't want to wake up to a time bomb one day.

However, the Penguin naturally couldn't show a little cowardice in front of his subordinates, so he quietly brought the topic to another woman.

The bald man quietly wiped the sweat from his head: "Boss, the woman who fought with Harley Quinn is Catwoman. You know, there have been rumors on the street that she is Batman's mistress, us, us."

"So you just watched my bar get smashed by the two of them!"

Mentioning Batman, Penguin felt annoyed. The lamb on the plate in front of him was cut into pieces by him, and the knife and fork rubbed against the porcelain, making a series of harsh sounds.

Several bosses on the side lowered their heads one after another, not daring to look at the increasingly ferocious-looking Penguin!

"Why are they fighting? It can't be because they are robbing men!"

"It's a string of white beads! The two of them fought hard. Harley Quinn scratched Catwoman's hair, and Catwoman scratched Harley Quinn several times on the face-"

Hearing Penguin's inquiry, the bald man hurriedly told his boss about the battle in the bar last night.

The reason why they, the group of spectators, did not intervene was because they watched two beauties rolling together and fighting. After all, which man can resist the scene of two beauties tearing their clothes and grabbing their hair.

"White beads, jewelry!" Penguin narrowed his eyes.

"Boss, Catwoman is an extremely picky jewelry thief. The value of the things she likes is...!" A leader stepped forward and said.

"And I heard that Harley Quinn was dumped by that one!"

"Is the news accurate?"

"It is said that Harley Quinn said it herself when she was drunk!"

Hearing the words of that subordinate, the knife and fork in Penguin's hand stopped, his eyes narrowed, and a cold light flashed on the monocle, "Send our people to find Harley Quinn, I want the string of beads, in the Gotham City, no one can smash my place! Neither can the clown!"