Marvel's Strange Magician

Although Watson had the idea of ​​selling drugs on the black market, how could he, a serious person, know where there was a black market?

So Watson started asking around for information in the past two days to see where the crime rate was the highest or the public security was the worst.

To Watson's surprise, he quickly identified a location that perfectly met this requirement—Clinton, or "Hell's Kitchen."

Hell's Kitchen was a famous slum on Manhattan Island in its early years. Even after renovation, the living environment here is still very messy and backward, with constant conflicts.

The chaos and danger within it are impressive even to people here in Queens, so whenever Watson asks, most of the answers people give him are here.

After knowing where to go, Watson took the opportunity to go to Hell's Kitchen himself to look for a suitable teleportation location and see if there was a casino or something like that.

After three consecutive days of observation and inquiring, Watson finally identified three locations where gangsters gathered.

After finding a clear target, Watson did not wait any longer and prepared to start his first operation that night.

The venue he chose was the "Fun Bar" because the casino allowed ordinary people to enter.

Watson stood opposite the Happy Bar, lowered his head and touched his wrinkled cheek, then walked into the casino with a trembling body.

"You, an old guy, still want to gamble at such an old age? Is it because your family owns a mine or you are not ready to have a wife?"

A black guard at the entrance of the casino shouted to Watson in a mocking tone, and another fat white guard also shouted impatiently:

"Get out now, you old guys will die at the first touch, and your life is worthless. If you don't repay your debt, we will all feel a loss if we beat you to death, so get out now!"

Watson ignored the two of them and continued to use crutches, tremblingly walking into the door.

"Tch! You self-righteous old guy, if you lose your limbs or something later, don't even think about coming out well again!"

The black guard glanced disdainfully at Watson who walked into the inner room, and murmured softly while lazily sitting on a chair and looking at the street.

Inside the room was a medium-sized bar. Watson walked through the crowd and walked to the other end of the bar.

After bypassing the sight of the guests, an oak door guarded by two strong men also appeared in front of Watson.

"Sir, this is closed to traffic."

The guards here were a combination of blacks and whites. The black guard stepped forward and stopped Watson, and said in a very cold tone.

"I think the guests here will be looking forward to my arrival."

An old voice came from Watson's mouth. He picked up the suitcase that suddenly appeared from behind and continued:

"Or you're expecting something like this in my hand, and I don't want to wait any longer, so you'd better not stop me."

"No passage here!"

The black guard's tone became colder, and the look he looked at Watson gradually became colder.

Watson sighed and shook his head, and continued to walk forward. The two guards suddenly felt a sense of violence in their eyes, and began to attack Watson mercilessly.

Watson's figure nimbly dodged the attacks of the two men, and then he raised the crutches in his hands and knocked the two guards unconscious with one blow.

He straightened his clothes, then pushed open the oak door and walked into the core area of ​​the bar.

The innermost room was about 200 square meters, and it was filled with all kinds of noises and all kinds of choking smoke. Watson quickly looked around, looking for a place where he could talk. characters.

Soon, Watson discovered that all the well-dressed people were at the gaming table in the center.

He walked over there, and when he arrived at the gambling table, the group's gambling game had just ended.

"Good evening, gentlemen. I have a bottle of precious potion here that can quickly save your life. I wonder if you, gentlemen, are interested in paying attention to it."

Watson's timely voice interrupted their thoughts of starting another game, and he put the box in his hand on the gaming table.

The big guys sitting at the gambling table didn't speak, and they didn't even think of looking at Watson.

The two younger brothers who were close to Watson showed a sadistic smile, and then suddenly shot out and hit Watson on the back.

Watson sighed softly in his heart, knowing that if he didn't show some skills, these ambitious gangsters would not care.

He slammed his crutch backwards twice, knocking the two boys to the ground.

The two boys were holding their hands that were in pain and wailing. Suddenly, some of the other boys around them pulled out their pistols, and their expressions were fierce, reflecting the look on Watson's face.

"You old guy, how dare you..."

"Okay, shut up!"

One of the sturdy young men suddenly shouted and stopped his men.

In front of him, a middle-aged man with a cigar in his mouth and a black coat looked up at Watson. He continued in a calm tone:

"Old sir, when you come to do business on my site, shouldn't you say hello in advance?"

"Isn't this faster? I think with my skills, I am qualified to take a shortcut, right?"

Watson rubbed his loose skin and showed a kind smile.

"Yes, of course. I just hope that the old gentleman can abide by our rules in the future. If you are willing, we can sit down and chat together later."

"The old man is old and can only do hands-off business. If this gentleman doesn't mind, then of course I will be happy to make one more friend, old man."

"Oh?"

The middle-aged man in a black coat lowered his head slightly, his eyes slowly moved back and forth twice, then he raised his head and laughed loudly, and then laughed loudly at the other people at the gaming table:

"Since the old gentleman is willing to come to do business with us on his own, brothers, why not take a look at what his treasure is?"

After seeing that no one objected, the middle-aged man in a black coat turned his head to Watson, stretched out his hand and said:

"Please."

Watson opened the suitcase, revealing a bottle of healing potion inside, and then explained aloud:

"This bottle of potion can heal any external injury within two minutes, as long as your hands and feet are not cut off directly; it can also heal injuries where the internal organs are damaged, such as being penetrated by a bullet or pierced by a dagger, within ten minutes. Belly or something.

Of course, if you are hit in the heart or suffer other fatal injuries, this bottle of medicine will no longer be able to help you heal.

However, it can at least help you delay death and give you more time to be sent to the hospital for treatment. "

When Watson said this, there was obvious fanaticism in many people's eyes. Where is this place? It’s Hell’s Kitchen where gangsters are everywhere and criminals are as cowardly as dogs!

In this place where there is constant competition, there are often only a few seconds between life and death. If this bottle of potion is really as magical as the old man said, then wouldn't their possession of one bottle be equivalent to a guarantee of an extra life? ?

But in the eyes of other gangsters, there were no strong emotional fluctuations. Most of them were just a little surprised, and many of them had doubts on their faces.

"Then old sir, can you give us a test?"

The middle-aged man in a black coat stared at Watson's hand on crutches, with a smile on his face and a playful tone.