I'm waving my magic wand in Marvel

"What is he doing?"

May covered Peter's eyes.

The clerk, for some reason, threw down a gun and started rolling on the ground.

This scary scene is full of weirdness.

"There is a strange creature called a Boggart, which can illuminate the most fearful things in people's hearts."

To explain it simply, it is illusion.

John blinked, and the blackness in his pupils returned to normal.

As a Witch King, he naturally needs some special means.

This is a method learned from the Boggart, and is very useful as an interrogation and punishment.

Wizards were called evil for a certain period of time.

The clerk gradually became silent, and John picked up the fried chicken and took a bite.

He nodded and commented like a gourmet: "As a bomber, the heat is just right."

May couldn't even figure out who John was and how he could eat it?

In Mei's eyes, the person in front of her was extremely mysterious.

Mei asked uncertainly: "Is he dead?"

"No, I fainted from extreme fear."

John held a chicken leg in one hand and said in a seductive tone: "The 100 million is now ownerless. Do you have any ideas?"

He habitually uses money as bait to test people.

100?

Only then did Mei remember that she still had 100 million under her butt.

Based on the family's current financial situation, 100 million can allow them to live a better life.

But Mei was not moved, but said matter-of-factly: "We want the police to arrest him."

"I found that you are really a kind person." John put down the chicken drumstick in his hand and said with a smile, "Then fill your stomach and get ready to go to the next stop."

"I think little Peter is hungry too."

Peter's eyes were already attracted to the fried chicken, so Mei had no choice but to let him open his stomach.

Over fried chicken, they talked about Hell's Kitchen.

May is now John's guide in New York.

Let this person who has not been in contact with the Muggle world for ten years quickly understand this place.

Hell's Kitchen, which the clerk mentioned, is the most chaotic place in New York.

Even the police don't go to Hell's Kitchen after dark.

It was a paradise for bad guys, junkies, and gangs.

All kinds of crimes can occur there.

In the most prosperous New York, there is the most miserable Hell's Kitchen.

These contrasts are part of New York’s diversity.

The clerk was talking about Simon. Mei thought about it and seemed to have heard this name before.

"That's not a guy to mess with, that's what I heard." May wasn't a gang member, and she wasn't from Hell's Kitchen.

Her home is in Queens, which is not even a hair away from that place.

John also nodded. He basically took one bite of the chicken leg and stopped eating.

The fried chicken and chicken nuggets were eaten quickly, and Mei and Peter were really hungry.

It's strange, it should be very lively at this time.

But from the time they entered the store until now, apart from them, no other customer has appeared.

John cast a Muggle banishing spell.

People who come near this place will suddenly remember something and leave, or they will not notice it at all.

Enjoy a meal of fried chicken in peace.

John also learned enough information.

There weren't enough clues in Hell's Kitchen during the day, so he planned to go there at night.

Well now.

Let the two of them have a full meal first, then send them home, and then cast a forgetting spell.

Nothing happens today.

Get it done.

...

John planned it well.

But sometimes, plans can't keep up with changes.

He had no intention of continuing to supervise the clerk, so he took the two of them out of the fried chicken shop, called a taxi and sent them back.

As soon as I sent the person downstairs, the police siren sounded.

John was taken to the police station.

He looked at the person opposite.

He said helplessly: "My car was bombed. If you didn't arrest the person who bombed my car, you brought me here."

"We need you to assist with the investigation."

The FBI agent looked serious. John looked at himself in the interrogation room, and it didn't look like he was assisting in the investigation.

It does have some intention of interrogating prisoners.

"Can you explain why you didn't call the police after the car exploded?"

The detectives did their due diligence, even though the questions seemed a bit difficult.

John leaned back in his chair and said calmly: "I'm hungry."

The detective was stunned. What does this have to do with not calling the police?

"I was hungry, so I went to eat fried chicken." John said innocently, "Is this weird?"

When a million-dollar sports car is bombed, your first reaction is to eat fried chicken?

It sounds like nothing is wrong.

Damn rich.

The agent frowned and tapped his fingers on the table, "Be serious!"

"I still need you to answer a question," the detective stared at John. "As far as we know, this car is not in your name."

"That's my father's." John said in a relaxed tone, knowing that these people were not looking for him for no reason.

"Watson Wick is your father?" The agent frowned and his tone became serious. He remembered that the information showed that the Wick family did have a son.

However, this son has no sense of existence, which makes people suspicious.

But John's various documents were complete, and the detective fell into deep thought.

As their main surveillance target, they quickly formed a team when they received the car bombing.

Unexpectedly, Watson Wick was not found, but a son was fished out.

Most importantly, they knew nothing about John.

The detective's eyes looked at John with a subtle change.

The detective who had been silent until now spoke, "I think as a son, you should know where your father is."

"I'm going to disappoint you. My father didn't tell me about his itinerary."

John knew that these people were lured out because of his father's car, but he had no need of these people for the time being.

His answer was unsatisfactory.

The agent wanted to say something else, but he didn't want to linger too long.

"I'm not going to let my lawyer come, so can I leave?" John's attitude was very much like those of the rich second generation.

But the FBI really has no reason to keep John. Lawyers in the United States are more difficult to deal with than elsewhere.

I could only watch him leave.

"Keep an eye on him, those people won't let him go," the detective said to his men.

After John left the police station, he originally wanted to go to erase his memory, but he changed his mind.

He took a taxi, turned around and headed to another location.

The taxi enters Manhattan.

John got out of the car in front of a magnificent hotel.

He walked towards the hotel.

The customers in this place are strange, most of them like black.

The guests wearing suits look more like they are coming to work than on vacation.

John walked to the front desk.

He also has dark skin and a bald head, but he has a completely different temperament from that gangster.

The man at the front desk was wearing a crisp suit and gold-rimmed glasses, giving him a meticulous sense of scale.

"Hello, what can I do for you."

The hotel receptionist smiled without showing his teeth.

John took out a gold coin from his pocket and pushed it to the front desk.

"I need to know something."

The receptionist saw the gold coins and slowly pushed them back. He smiled and said, "The bar will be a good place."

John picked up the gold coins and walked into the elevator and started to go down with the elevator.

When you walk into the bar, you will see that this is not the kind of place where you can get drunk easily, but a quiet place suitable for getting tipsy and drinking.

In front of the bar, a woman shook the shaker cup in her hand.

"I want to know about Simon."

The woman poured a glass of wine from the shaker and handed it to John.

John picked it up, took a sip, and said, "Be more detailed."

"You're a stranger," the female bartender said with a raised eyebrow, "We're not in the business of strangers."

"how about this?"

He took out two gold coins from his pocket and pushed them over. John said, "I am sincere."

"You can think about it." Taking the gold coin, the bartender said, "Wait a moment."

She wrote Simon on a piece of paper, stuffed the capsule into the tube.

After a while, new capsules fell from the pipe.

She took out the capsule and opened it, which contained clues about Simon.

Handing it to John, the bartender looked at the young face and gave him advice: "You'd better not mess with him."

"You are the second person to tell me this." John took the clue and stood up to leave.

After opening the clue in the elevator, John looked at the address above, shook his head and said, "Dad's organization is really profitable."

This is his father's hotel chain.

There is always a black side to the white side of this world.

White is orderly, and if they want to manage disorderly Black, they need to give Black a person who can establish order.

And John's father was just that.

He put in place many rules and regulations to make this black person stable.

It was also the first time for John to come to the hotel to experience the service. If the FBI hadn't come to visit him, John almost forgot that his father also had some uses.

He found those gold coins at home. Sometimes my father was not good at hiding things.

After coming out of the hotel, John watched the sky getting dark. He was also preparing to go to Hell's Kitchen.

If nothing else, that Simon should be connected with the Ten Rings Gang.

A gangster leader who hangs out with terrorists.

This wonderful combination made John wonder what their purpose was in attacking his father?

There will be answers tonight.

John took advantage of the darkness and hailed a taxi.

When he heard that John was going to Hell's Kitchen, the driver with an Asan accent was so frightened that he begged him to get another car.

After changing cars five times in a row, basically heading to Hell's Kitchen, no driver would take the order.

If he weren't afraid of being seen by someone who didn't open his eyes while riding a broomstick, John would really want to fly in the sky.

In desperation, John had to find another way to travel.

...

The bald man who had a pencil inserted into his head by John was thinking about his tragic experience today in the car.

As a New York gangster with great ambitions, he was so frightened that he almost peed his pants.

This was a huge blow to me, who had the highest academic level in the village and dropped out of high school.

It even made him question whether he, as a man, was a sissy.

When he thought of his embarrassment, he couldn't help but beat the steering wheel and mouth words of greeting.

I can't be a pussy, a real man should fuck a man!

"Your mouth is really dirty."

The distracted bald man was about to scold him when he heard this, but when the words came to his lips, he felt that the voice sounded familiar.

Turning around, I saw that face that lingered like a nightmare appeared outside the car window.

John smiled and waved: "Is it convenient for you to take me to Hell's Kitchen?"

"The main reason is that I don't know the way."

The familiar smiling face made the bald man’s legs weak.

He really wanted to escape, but he couldn't.

...