Inside the shabby and gloomy room, Marcose stared at the open door in a daze. After making sure there was no threat, he quickly picked up his pistol and reloaded the disassembled bullets and magazines.

Click, magazine return, bolt lock, safety open.

Marcos rushed out of the room with a gun in hand and aimed at the stairs. His heart was pounding, his heart was calm, but his body was excited, ready to fight.

The old-fashioned apartment staircase is narrow and dark, the floor is damp, and the corners are green mold. Some tenants came back in the middle of the night and vomited in the stairwell, nauseous and unpleasant.

Marcos' muzzle was pointed downwards and upwards.

The stairwell was not quiet, and there was a cacophony of noise in every house. The neighborhoods are so close to each other that doing something is like broadcasting.

After a few seconds, Marcos relented in confusion and closed the door again.

Damn, what the hell is going on?

Marcose touched his chest, and his lungs were about to erupt from the knee that had just hit the top, and he was completely near-death. The psychological horror has not yet dissipated, but the physical is fine.

When he went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, there was still blood on the corner of his mouth. But the left jaw that should have been red and swollen was already safe and sound, even if I rubbed it with my fingers a minute ago, it still hurt a lot.

"Who the hell did I provoke?" Marcos pinched his face, feeling that his complexion was much better than usual.

As an intelligence officer, life is not as handsome and exciting as in the movies, but perennially highly tense and dull. Due to the lack of hope for the future, Marcos has contracted an alcoholism in the past two years.

This is now the case for many Eastern Europeans, men, women and children. Life is hopeless, and you can only rely on drunkenness to relieve your sorrows, and it is not uncommon for you to freeze to death in the wilderness.

Because he was drunk and froze to death too often, the later Maozi gangsters didn't bother to use guns and knives to kill people, so they invited the target to drink in the tavern at night, drunk them and moved them to the open air.

The next day, the corpse was hard, and it was easy for the police to come, but it was just an accident after drinking.

Heavy alcohol abuse can easily lead to alcoholic cirrhosis, fatigue, lethargy, listlessness, and a dull complexion. It's easy to distinguish alcoholics just by their appearance.

But ......, Marcos reached out and pressed his liver, and then compared himself in the mirror to think back to what happened a few minutes ago, "That guy has superpowers?" ”

No kidding, the United States and the Soviet Union have been thinking about the idea of superhumans very seriously since the sixties, and have invested heavily in a lot of experiments.

After the explosion of science and technology after World War II, mankind invented a cross-era computer, went into space, and landed on the moon. With the support of strong national power, nothing can stop the imagination of scientists.

The first satellite, the first astronaut, the first space station, the first landing on the moon, the first trip to Mars, the first spacecraft to the sun, or flying out of the solar system to explore the vastness of the universe.

Thirty years later, technological development has come to a standstill. Ordinary people feel that their lives are changing with each passing day, but scientists are just tinkering with their predecessors, waiting for the next technological revolution to come.

And in the nineties, there was a belief in the reception of extraterrestrial energy in an aluminum pot. If someone does have superpowers, that's not unacceptable.

Zhou Qingfeng's abnormal ability made Marcos have to think seriously, is this a scam? Magic? Trick? It's all possible. But his body was making it clear that something magical was happening.

"It's really bad." Marcos shook his head, put on his clothes, and hid his pistol. He grabbed the business card that Erin had left behind and hurried out the door.

If he was still a member of the 'Stasi' or 'KGB', Marcos would not hesitate to report to his superiors and wait for instructions.

But now there is still a ghost superior.

Any idea how bad the situation is right now? The vast Soviet empire was falling apart. A certain emperor also returned home from East Germany, and he had to wonder whether it was feasible to drive a taxi in Moscow.

History is inherently absurd and unknowable.

"This is clearly bullying me for being helpless."

Marcos left the apartment and ate breakfast on the street. He didn't think much of it, and the current situation didn't allow him to waste time, so he pinched his business card and dialed the number above.

"Hey, I'm Marcos."

Erin's surprised voice rang on the other end of the phone, and then Zhou Qingfeng answered the phone, "Mr. Marcose, I thought I would receive your call tomorrow." ”

Standing on the chaotic street below the apartment, Marcos looked up at the dilapidated house where he lived, and sighed, "No one is going to find an intelligence agent to sell a little underground movie......"

"No, no, no." Zhou Qingfeng interrupted: "The company has a wide range of business now, and we don't just make some realistic movies.

I had been in contact with a group of Vietnamese people and had access to a smuggling network that could communicate with the whole of Southeast Asia.

At present, 'Shengguang Entertainment' is providing a variety of spiritual food for hundreds of millions of people. We are also backed by Chinese mainland, which can provide a large number of low-end industrial products, and at the same time has a strong demand for agricultural products.

It's a very big market, and it's worth fighting for all your life. ”

Uncle Zhou was bragging about his group, and Marcose rolled his eyes when he heard it on the phone.

The latter couldn't help but mock: "So you worked so hard to toss me, so you plan to make me a salesman and help you sell those books, magazines, and videotapes?" ”

"Not really." Zhou Qingfeng is not full of food, "Come to the company building in Causeway Bay." You can take a look at your own office. ”

'Holy Light' has an eight-storey office building in Causeway Bay. This place has a lot of popularity in HK, and every month there are so-called sufferers who come to find trouble through various channels.

Marcos has been involved in the 'Holy Light Entertainment' a few times later, but today the feeling is really different. He had heard terrible rumors about the building, and he knew that the whereabouts of its original owner were unknown.

Lao Ma only took it as a joke after hearing it, he was an elite trained by the world's two major intelligence agencies, how could he be afraid of ethereal supernatural stories?

Today, Lao Ma stood downstairs in the company, looking at the ordinary glass door, and he was really a little scared.

Could it be that all those rumors in the past are true?

The so-called bloody night massacre, the end of the hall, the mysterious disappearance, the brain-controlling puppet, the Huang Man boss - wait, Uncle Zhou strongly demanded to cross out the last one.

It was Marco's turn. He hesitated downstairs for a moment, but still walked in.

The president's office is on the eighth floor, and Zhou Qingfeng has just returned. Seeing the old horse's front and back feet, he asked Erin to make a cup of coffee for the other party, and pointed to the sofa, "Feel free, I'm not very particular about the rules." ”

Yes, it's true that there are no rules, because there are no rules at all.

Marcos glanced at the office, which was very ordinary.

Floor-to-ceiling windows face Victoria Bay, but are blocked by other high-rise buildings and do not have any sea views.

Inside, there is a large desk and two couches. Bookcases, coffee tables, corner bonsai and so on are all available.

Zhou Qingfeng sat in his boss's chair, propped up the table with one hand, shook his body with the chair, and said to Marcos: "I need to get some nuclear materials, uranium-235 or plutonium-239." ”

Haha...... Marcos let out a comical laugh. He spread his hands, "I knew it wouldn't be easy?"

Nuclear material, I bet you still want weapons-grade concentrations. Isn't this something that can be found casually? Nuclear materials are closely regulated. The whole world is watching. ”

Zhou Qingfeng shrugged, "So what about ......, do you want to do it?" ”

Erin had just handed Marcos a cup of coffee. Zhou Qingfeng beckoned and forcibly snatched it away from his hand in the air.

Marcose took a bite in his hand, and his heart felt like a critical blow. He couldn't hold back his doubts, sat up quickly, glared and asked, "How did you do this?" ”

"You'll just treat me as Yuri." The coffee fell into Zhou Qingfeng's palm, and he took a sip very indifferently, "Oh, you may not know what 'Yuri' is." ”