Super Cute New To Marvel

  Chapter 12 Celebration of the Rifle Association

   "What? You speak louder, I am very noisy here!"

   "We have found Tony Stark and are sending him back to the US military base!" Gideon exclaimed in a gesture of almost putting the intercom into his mouth.

"Oh, okay, just send it back, remember to ask Stark to reimburse the bill, there is still something on my side!" After saying this, Fisher hung up the phone, joking, and gave Stark. If you go home, it is important to accompany your sister to shoot a gun? These subordinates are so incompetent. When they turned around, they ordered the Commander Cormac of the Son of Truth to deduct the team's year-end bonus!

  On the other side, in the large cabin of the Black Hawk helicopter, Rhodes was looking at each other with Stark.

   "What is your boss doing, I heard gunshots?" Rhodes was very curious.

  "Isn’t it an event of the Rifle Association these days? The boss’s old man is so good, so they should be in the meeting place!"

  "The Rifle Association? Why don't their events ever invite me?" Stark was as surprised as he heard a new term.

   "Because they don't have models and rum, but there are a bunch of girls and beers, and just like you, it shouldn't be welcome if you go!" Rhodes sneered, leaning on the bulkhead.

   "Why? I haven't shot a gun before!"

"No, no, you don't understand. The people who go there to play guns are all kinds of gun lovers. They just feel the charm of shooting, not to show off their weapons!" Rhodes tilted to himself Erlang's legs changed a position and said, "Moreover, your top priority now is to go back to your country and cultivate well, not to participate in some activities!"

   "Well, I really miss the taste of cheeseburgers now!"

  ………………………………

   "What's wrong? What's wrong with the company?"

   "It's okay, it's that Stark was found!"

   "Oh, why am I still thinking about the big thing, come on!"

   "Okay, go!" Fisher forcefully threw four ceramic targets filled with colored powder into the distant sky.

  Then the old father standing next to him raised the Mossberg m590 shotgun in his hand to quickly fire, load, fire, and load.

  After four gunshots were fired, four groups of red smoke exploded in the air, and the crowd watching immediately burst into bursts of applause.

   "Are you here?" Father Fisher asked, raising Mossberg.

   "No, I don't like pumping! Isn't it good to be semi-automatic?" Fisher rejected Mossberg and took out his m1014 from the box on the side.

"Start, timing!" The staff on the side pressed the timer, then Fisher rushed into the shooting range, the roaring shotgun smashed seven targets in a few seconds, and then Fisher lifted his clothes and tied them from the waist. A shotgun was drawn from the moving bomb feeder, filled into the magazine from the ejection port, and the gun was loaded, smashing the last target.

   "Seven seconds 31!"

   "How about it, not bad!" Fisher blew out his muzzle proudly.

   "It's not bad, let's go, let's go to other places!"

  As an annual event for shooting enthusiasts, the Rifle Association naturally cannot be a free shooting activity. In fact, this can only be regarded as a warm-up.

Strictly speaking, the first event should be a weapons exhibition. Basically all light weapons companies in the United States will showcase their new products or some tactical accessories here, and some shooting enthusiasts will also show their wives to them. Others show off.

  The endless tents on the lawn are connected for several kilometers, and there are hundreds of manufacturers participating in the exhibition. Although Fisher himself is only here to make soy sauce, it does not prevent him from admiring other people's "wives".

The second item of the gun exhibition should be the shooting session. In order to invigorate the atmosphere, the Rifle Association even pulled out an antique 88 gun from its inventory. Fisher even tried one shot, although the muzzle was raised. The smoke scrapped him a hand-made shirt worth thousands of dollars, but it was over when it was cool.

  After finishing the cannon, he had another Texas barbecue. Fisher walked around the nearby shooting range without any problems. As a result, at the cqb shooting range, he met a person who had never dreamed of it.

  Black splits, thick stubbles, straight suits, combined with fierce movements and brilliant marksmanship, who is not Keanu Reeves?

  In order to prevent the wrong person from acknowledging the wrong person, Fisher also specifically inquired the name of this man with others.

   "His name is John Wick. He seems to be an actuary, but his marksmanship and body skills are very neat, and he doesn't look like a middle-aged man at all!" A well-meaning man he knew gave Fisher a few words.

   "John Wick?" Fisher carefully searched for the name from the memory deep in his mind, as if it was a killer of some continental hotel.

  At this time, John Wick has completed the shooting project. He neatly inspected the weapon and handed it to the staff on the side. The audience watching him shoot gave him warm applause. There are even a few eager guys who plan to make a few gestures.

  And John Wick also had plans to challenge, but he hadn't agreed yet, and the crowd squeezed out a middle-aged woman, who squeezed his arm, it should be his wife.

"John, don't get too excited and fight with others!" John Wick's wife, Helen, is an editor of a newspaper. Although she herself is not very interested in guns, she still accompanies her husband to stroll around here and take a look. Is there any material to write an article or something.

   "Don't worry, nothing will happen!" John Wick smiled and patted his wife's hand. Just about to prepare to play, the phone suddenly rang at his waist.

  "Sorry, I have something, let's make an appointment next time!" Seeing a string of mysterious codes on the phone screen, John Wick said sorry to several challengers and took his wife to leave.

   "Mr. John Wick?"

   "Are you?" John looked at the young man in front of him, puzzled.

  "I am the CEO of Atlas Company!" Fisher handed over a business card, "I admire your shooting skills, just like art. Are you interested in being a spokesperson for our civilian weapons?"

  "Spokesperson?" John Wick looked at the special gilded font on the business card, quite moved. You must know that being a killer is not as beautiful as ordinary people think. It is a sports car that goes in and out of the target. If you want to assassinate the target, you can take a sniper rifle and finish it. Laws, the number of bodyguards, security loopholes, etc. The most important thing is that sometimes employers will also ask for assassinations to be disguised as accidents, and the killer is really not a very glorious profession, so even Wick’s wife only knows that the husband is The actuary at the Continental Hotel in New York didn't know he was a killer.

"Uh, I'm sorry, Mr. Fisher, I have something urgent now. I will consider your proposal very seriously. Now I have to go, I am offended!" John Wick collected his business card solemnly, and the fee After Scheer nodded, he took his wife and ran to the parking lot quickly.

  Fisher didn't think so. The reason why he called John Wick was only because he liked Keanu Reeves very much in his previous life.

   "Maybe I can take a photo with me that day!"

  ………………………………

  After Tony Stark returned to New York, there was an uproar. The media from all walks of life gathered in the Stark Building just like a shark smelling blood, waiting for his arrival.

   "I want to close the weapons research and development department of Stark Industries!"

  Stark’s words were like a pebble being thrown into a calm pond. Upon hearing this, Obadea's heart suddenly shrank and almost pulled it away.

  After all the reporters heard this, their eyes glowed brightly, and various questions popped up one after another.

   "Mr. Stark, I heard that you were attacked by a weapon made by Stark Industries in the Middle East. Is this true?"

   "Mr. Stark, I heard that you escaped by seducing the terrorist boss. Is this true?"

  Obadea frowned and looked at the reporter who asked the question, and found that he was just a reporter for an entertainment news tabloid, and even before he spoke, two big-waisted security guards threw the guy out.

  However, Stark himself ignored these reporters at all, and left the hall after talking about his plan.

"Tony, listen to me, I know you have suffered a lot, but we don't need to shut down the weapon production line! This is the backbone of Stark's industry!" Obadiah is anxious. The weapon industry is his lifeblood. , It was he and Howard both founded it at the beginning, now Stark is about to shut down with a word, and Obadea even violently strangles Stark on the spot.

"Do you know, Obadiah, what did I meet over there? Countless innocent people died under the weapon I developed. They could have lived happily!" Stark stopped and turned his head to stare. With Obadiah's eyes.

"Then we can build a foundation and donate some money. Didn’t you want to set up a charity foundation some time ago? I will help you go to the board of directors to get it done. Elimination, all of these are okay, but it is really unnecessary to close the weapons research and development department!" Obadiah even began to beg Stark to take back his previous statement.

   "No, Obadea, the weapons research and development department must be closed!" Tony Stark's tone was unrelenting firmness.

   "Well, since this is your plan!" Obadiah was stunned, his eyes gradually cold, then he turned and walked towards the exit of the building, and took out his mobile phone at the same time.

   "Prepare the plane, I am going to Afghanistan, yes, yes, right away, right away!"

  　 starting this month, three thousand every day

  (End of this chapter)