Chapter 370 We Are in Trouble (Part 1)

When Salomon returned to Professor Randolph's office, Professor Elliott Randolph was already drunk. In fact, a bottle of Scotch bourbon whiskey can't shake the physique of an Asgardian at all, but if someone drinks whiskey like an ice-cold Coke in the summer sun, even an Asgardian (especially a commoner) can't last long.

Lara Croft was a little embarrassed, because Professor Randolph had already poured himself a third bottle of whiskey. She still didn't know why the professor was so sad, but when she knew that she couldn't stop Professor Randolph from unscrewing the bottle cap, she gave up her plan to ask - the careful female archaeologist discovered Salomon's hint, although she still didn't know why, but she thought Salomon would tell her because they had an agreement.

"Professor Elliott Randolph." Salomon smiled at Laura who was holding a wine glass, and turned to hand a piece of parchment to the drunken-eyed history professor (who was once a folklore professor). Professor Randolph glanced at the mystic, and then at the words on the parchment. Laura Crawford saw what was written on the parchment, and her speculation about Professor Randolph's identity had another direction.

Although she didn't know the purpose of Salomon's distribution of contracts, the mystic had explained a small part of his work, which was to give contracts to ordinary people who accidentally witnessed magic and ordinary people in magical events. She thought that the reason why she signed the contract was because she wanted to explore the magical world—however, for a more special target like her, Salomon would sign the contract in advance, even if Lara Croft did not ask, he would mainly find her to sign the contract.

"Please sign this contract as soon as possible." Salomon said, "Agent Coulson has promised to keep it secret, and Kama Taj will not interfere with your life on Earth."

"Professor Randolph is not an ordinary person?" When she left the office, Laura finally couldn't hold back her curiosity and put forward her own speculation. "I don't think you need to sign the parchment to hear you explain the runes." Laura, wearing a sports denim outfit, walked under the steps, her stiff heels banging on the steps, her neat ponytail dangling playfully.

The female archaeologist and the freshly graduated college student bouncingly said, "Aren't you going to reveal the answer to the mystery?"

"Actually, it's kind of boring to talk about," Salomon said. "You participated in the item identification work performed by S.H.I.E.L.D., didn't you? S.H.I.E.L.D. found everyone with two brushes (know one's onions) to do the work, but you also saw their attitude towards alien objects—if I didn't resist, they would put me in a sponge box for storage. Professor Randolph was the one who knew he had onions, and he was actually an onion farmer."

Salomon's one-liner made Laura laugh out loud.

"The trouble this time is only because someone found Professor Randolph's hiding place." The mystic continued, "I don't understand why he wrote a poem to leave clues about his hiding place. It's a bit silly."

"Hey! Don't be rude, Salomon, you haven't gone to college yet!"

"You should be thankful that the college I'm going to doesn't have the idiots played by the CIA sponsored by the American Foundation for Democracy, otherwise I would have said a lot of dirty words. Money is good everywhere, but it's a bit bad to have some idiots who lead street riots come to school." Salomon fully expressed his disdain for the Yankees. "If it's not an idiot, how could it be accepted by the CIA?"

"Well, if you want to make political remarks, we might as well find a place to talk." Laura rubbed her stomach, "A place where you can eat. The whiskey in my stomach is burning. If you don't eat, you will call the fire brigade to put out the fire."

"I can breathe fire out of my mouth, and I didn't know you could too."

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"Wow!" Skye carefully took a few pebbles from Agent Coulson.

What made her wary of these things was nothing but the runes carved on the cobblestones. Agent Coulson asked her to be careful with these seemingly ordinary stones - after Fitz's inspection, these stones also appeared to have become alien substances, at least similar in spectral characteristics to Quake's hammer. It's just that Agent Coulson didn't seem too nervous, and he didn't seal the pebbles into a sponge box, because Salomon had assured him of the safety of this thing.

"As long as we don't say that word, these rune stones won't trigger." Fitz was obviously very puzzled by the unscientific thing in front of him. "Is it a listener (coder's term) that runs the program when it detects an event trigger? If so, I probably know what magic is."

"I think we can take this opportunity to do more inspections." Simmons said excitedly, "I scanned Salomon Damonet's armor and sword last time when he came, and the spectral characteristics are completely different from those of Thor's Hammer. We think that different...it's magic, they all have different spectral characteristics. It's a pity that we didn't do a few small experiments last time. This time we have plenty of opportunities...I don't believe in Salomon's ability, but I think we can replace these runes with benzodiazepines stone..."

"Calm down medicine, a good choice." Skye had obviously done her homework, and now she knew what S.H.I.E.L.D.'s regular medicines were.

"Don't break it, Simmons, remember to take good precautions." Agent Coulson let the science team experiment freely, not as serious as other senior agents. Only Agents Grant Ward and Melinda May are protesting with their eyes, they think that wanton experimentation will only lead to bad results-but Agent Coulson convinces them that Fitz-Simmons has developed an antibody against the Chitauri virus, and he believes that the science team can handle these runes.

"Remember, don't say that word." Agent Coulson clapped his hands, reminded his team members to pay attention to safety, and went straight off the plane. He still has something to talk to Professor Elliott Randolph - S.H.I.E.L.D. must find the Berserker's Cane before those rioters, and he hopes that Professor Elliott Randolph can tell him everything.

However, when Coulson came to the office again, Professor Randolph had long since disappeared. Only a few wine bottles were placed on the table to prove what he was doing before. Agent Coulson looked around, and he instantly understood what Professor Randolph was thinking.

"Friends." He pressed the headset and said to the team members staying on the plane, "We are in trouble. Professor Randolph is looking for the Berserker's cane."

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"Think about women a hundred years ago! They couldn't vote, their skirts were below the knees, and they couldn't use contraception. If they wanted to have an abortion, they would find an alley to abort the baby secretly, and if they were caught, they would go to jail for murder! Now, they can have an abortion anytime and anywhere they want! Abortion is no more difficult than buying a McDonald's! They can even run for president..." A truck driver raised a beer glass. His speech won the applause of daytime alcoholics Sounds and cheers.

Salomon filtered the above voices as noises, but Laura did not let go so easily. "This is a vulgar American." The mystic persuaded, "If you are too angry to eat French fries, then you can only say that you asked for it. Who asked you to experience American life?"

"I'm starting to regret it, Salomon." Lara Croft gloomily stuffed food into her mouth. She looked like she was chewing a piece of rubber. "How on earth do Americans survive?"

"Frank is the most well-informed person here, and he is also my brother-in-law." The bar owner wiped the glass. He was a well-known good man, and he was not stingy when pouring beer, and he always scraped off the excess foam. Without looking up, he said, "Frank, what you said makes a lot of sense, and I look forward to discussing the points you made with my sister at the party tonight."

Hearing what the bar owner said, the audience burst into laughter again.

"This is the life of Americans," Laumon raised his eyebrows, "At least I have no problem with the American countryside. I like it here, and this is the only place where I can drink." Hey! Ben, can I have a depth charge, please? "

"Of course, for your girlfriend's sake, I'll treat you to this cup!" said the bar owner.

There were cheers and boos in the bar.

"Good job, boy!"

Ask for a ticket!