Chapter 15

, The Genie Starting from Marvel

A few days later, Frank finally completed all the preliminary preparations. He had originally wanted to request some troops from Nick Fury—at worst, he could just do missions to pay back the favor after changing his profession—but Nick Fury had been busy with something lately and had absolutely no time to deal with him.

However, after repeated communication, Frank still managed to obtain some help.

Nick Fury helped by applying pressure through various channels on Kingpin and his Big Gold Tooth Company, forcing them to withdraw most of their thugs from Hell's Kitchen. Additionally, in a very disgusting move, he found people from animal protection and environmental protection organizations to harass Kingpin, tying up Kingpin's manpower on the surface and reducing the pressure Frank might face during the all-out attack.

Furthermore, Nick Fury dispatched one of his most important agents, Hawkeye Clinton Barton, to help Frank. Barton's arrival not only added manpower to the team but also brought a large batch of equipment; the quantity was enough for Frank to launch a small-scale war.

"This friend of yours is really quite good; he's very loyal." Johnson squatted in front of the various pieces of equipment, his eyes shining.

As an archaeologist who mainly navigated society through desk work, this was Johnson's first time seeing such things, and they instantly activated that kind of interest inherent in men, with the violent factors in his heart beginning to stir.

If he didn't know that entering a modern frontline battlefield would only cause trouble, Johnson would have wanted to apply to join the assault team.

"Are you kidding me?" Frank listened to Johnson's praise for Nick Fury, his mouth twitching; he felt a bit between laughter and tears. How could anyone think that Nick Fury, this spymaster, was loyal and brotherly?

"Isn't he?" Johnson was a bit surprised. He looked down at the weapons; these things together were worth at least tens of millions of bucks, and the gun oil hadn't even dried—they were clearly brand-new goods. "Then these things, he's giving them to you for free?"

"Free things are the most expensive." Frank leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh. "I just can't figure this point out: what exactly is he plotting?"

"Don't think about it so much." Johnson patted Frank on the shoulder; the pressure this man was under was unimaginable to outsiders. "Even if he did throw a sugar-coated shell at you, when the time comes, just throw the shell back."

"You're right. Alright, I need to get ready to leave. You should also hurry and change locations; be careful of the soldiers under Nick Fury. Don't trust them easily; you could easily be tricked to death." Frank stood up, tidied his equipment, and said to Johnson.

As Frank's hand pressed against the doorknob, Johnson, who had been staring at him, spoke up, "Are you really not going to reconsider? Divination..."

"Don't tell me the answer. You are a Diviner, I am not. Besides, someone gave me a hope to fulfill my wish; no matter how many difficulties are on this road, I can only face them." Frank pulled the door open and walked out, leaving Johnson with nothing but his back.

After Frank walked away, Johnson gave a bitter smile, stood up, and spoke to himself, "My subsequent potion materials still depend on you; you mustn't die."

Despite saying that, Johnson subconsciously took out his pocket watch, preparing to divine whether he should help Frank with all his might.

But just as he was about to mobilize his spirituality, Johnson suddenly remembered what Frank had said to him. He stared at the pocket watch hanging in the air for a long time, then snatched it away.

"I don't want to become someone who doesn't know which leg to step with if I don't divine before going out!"

A Diviner is an expert who conducts and controls divination, not someone controlled by it. Since he had already decided to do it, there was no need to perform meaningless divination; that would be a denial of himself. Moreover, Johnson needed to save more spirituality to try and help Frank achieve a comeback against the odds.

Pushing open that door, all the agents outside were already on their way to Hell's Kitchen under Frank's leadership; now, only Johnson was left here.

Facing the sunlight, Johnson opened his arms; the Diviner potion had been fully digested, and his state had never been better.

"Tell me, where can I find someone who is willing and capable of helping Frank!"

For the first time, Johnson changed his divination method of only asking yes-or-no questions. The spirituality in his body churned like the sea under a gale, pouring into the pocket watch all at once.

Under the activation of a massive amount of spirituality, the cover of the pocket watch lifted slightly for the first time. The entire terrain of New York City flipped through Johnson's brain like a film, and image after image flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern.

The birthplace of Iron Man—Stark Industries Tower; the S. H. I. E. L. D. headquarters—the Triskelion; the Masters of the Mystic Arts—the New York Sanctum...

Some of these images were complete and clear like photographs, while others were fragmented and blurry like mosaics. But without a doubt, they all had the power to reverse the situation of Frank's battle. However, what Johnson wanted wasn't just the ability, but more importantly, the willingness.

Consequently, the revolving lantern finally stopped on a very ordinary two-story building. It was a common structure in Forest Hills, Queens, New York, not very far from here.

Johnson firmly memorized the address, put on a black bowler hat, reached out to hail a taxi, and as he got in, he tapped his forehead twice with his right hand to activate his Spirit Vision.

Along the way, the taxi driver tried to strike up a conversation several times, but Johnson kept his eyes closed and did not reply until he reached his destination, at which point he opened his eyes.

The prematurely activated Spirit Vision had already passed the slightly blurry time of its initial opening. Now, Johnson saw everyone with extreme clarity, but the price for this was a massive consumption of spirituality; Johnson had already begun to feel his brain starting to grow weary.

Where? Where?

Johnson walked quickly down the street, feeling a bit anxious. With that image in mind, he soon found the two-story building.

However, through Spirit Vision, Johnson discovered that there was only one figure in the house whose overall aura was pale white. Confirming through the window, it was just an older woman; she probably wasn't the person who could save Frank.

Just as Johnson was feeling puzzled, he suddenly noticed a high school student walking on the side of the road who looked very ordinary.

In Spirit Vision, this young man had a vibrant red glow all over his body, which was a manifestation of extremely vigorous athletic ability—in this regard, even Frank couldn't compare to this young man. Moreover, the purple on his brain, linked to intelligence, thinking, and the like, was also very vibrant, and the other orange and yellow colors representing physical health were also very striking.

It could be said that this person had already far surpassed ordinary people in every aspect.

It must be him. Johnson tidied his clothes and walked over.