Chapter 793 New Yorker's Life Experience (Part 1)

Wanda yawned, stepped on the dead bodies of Santa Claus and reindeer dolls into the dining room, and the broken plastic toys hidden in the carpet gnawed at the soles of her feet, which woke her up. The vinyl records hummed outdated Hollywood movie theme songs over and over again, and there was an old film smell in the warm air.

She was wearing a thick cotton pajamas patterned with strawberries, which looked to match her hair color. Before going to bed last night, she was surprised to find that the toiletries in her bathroom were the exact same brand as she used. She and Salomon purchased most of the toiletries she used when she moved into the penthouse, and she just didn't expect Salomon to remember her preferences. The care from others moved Wanda very much, especially after Pietro had some other ideas and abandoned the path Salomon had chosen for him, the two Maximoffs had to go in two completely opposite directions. The same smell helped her sleep soundly on unfamiliar pillows, so much so that she walked out of the room without even realizing she was no longer in her own apartment.

When she opened her eyes, she was still a little confused, until the smell of oil, sugar and tea rushed into her brain.

"Hurry up, don't let Dinah's fried bacon get so cold." The mystic sitting on the soft chair beckoned Wanda to sit beside him. He was holding a newspaper, and the black tea with sugar in the ceramic cup in front of him exuded a charming aroma. Seeing Wanda waking up, Salomon covered the third page of The Sun with inconspicuousness. Dinah, who was wearing high-heeled shoes, was carrying the tray, and quietly walked up to Wanda to put down the tray. This kind of intimate service made the little witch flustered again. After all, she had never been served by a servant, and even after yesterday's dinner service, she couldn't adapt to this kind of intimate attitude.

"We can start training after you finish your breakfast," Salomon said.

"Where are your...girlfriends (plural)?" Wanda asked.

"They went to pick up the custom-made jewelry. I arranged for the sisters to protect them. Although they don't need protection, having help can save a lot of trouble." Salomon said lightly. It's not like he hasn't killed a witch's suitor before, but after all, whether it's shooting or hacking in the street, it's a bit inhumane, and it's more convenient to bomb directly with a rocket launcher. "They'll be back before lunchtime," he said. "When you're done with the course, you'll have science. You've got time to think about what you want to study. My recommendation is math and classics, after all you've done enough Latin."

"Does every wizard go to college?" Wanda asked with a smile.

She had known for a long time that this was a negative answer, because during the time she stayed in Karma Taj, she came into contact with some mystics. Not all of those mystics came from prestigious schools, and Salomon, a mystic with a degree in a secular university, was a minority.

Salomon wrinkled his nose. "I don't care about anyone else, it's stupid to say that reading is useless, and people who believe it are even more stupid." He alluded to Pietro's stupidity. He didn't say it directly because he didn't want the matter between Maximov's blood relatives to affect Wanda's mood. "Rationality and knowledge are always important, aren't they?"

"My lord!" The sound of a heavy object falling on the floor suddenly sounded and approached quickly. The Praetorians in golden armor strode into the apartment, their crimson robes filled with gusts of wind, like a tank advancing at full speed, like a heavy hammer swung down suddenly. Constantine's voice was hurried, "Unexpected situation, communication from Karma Taj."

"Say." Salomon put down the newspaper, his expression changed from brisk to serious.

"Creatures from the upper plane began to appear in small numbers in New York." Constantine said, "The New York Temple has taken emergency measures, and the temple deacons have gone to the shallow etheric plane to observe the situation."

Salomon closed his eyes and released his feelings.

Wanda also followed the method he had taught her. She felt something hot hovering over New York, making ear-piercing cries like a baby. This is a body made of thoughts, a spiritual body made of extreme emotions. Wanda couldn't bear the torture of piercing the brain, and she withdrew from the state of concentration that the caster should have maintained. Salomon saw more, and he was familiar with this feeling, because he had encountered such an enemy more than once.

It stands to reason that these creatures should have already fallen apart, and then they were swallowed up by the raging astral plane, or they were completely extinct because they couldn't produce new angels and were constantly hunted down by witches. But now the creatures appearing in the sky of New York broke his guess, and invisible things invisible to the naked eye are constantly pouring out.

Perhaps it was because a church held a Christmas mass that the birdman, who was wandering in the shallow ether, found his way to the real world. The only consolation is that those creatures have not yet taken true form.

Damn folly, damn superstition a thousand times over!

Salomon scanned the city with his arcane eyes, trying to figure out whether this was a sudden phenomenon caused by an ordinary tide of the sea of ​​souls, or a premeditated attack. His eyes followed the witch's footsteps. Obviously, both Beunita and Joan of Arc realized that something was wrong, and raised their heads to look at the sky, looking for traces of their mortal enemies. It's been a long time since they killed by themselves. Beunita raised her head and smiled on her face covered by the brim of a wide-brimmed white hat. Joan eagerly started the motorcycle, intending to run over the first enemy she found.

The witches noticed Salomon's gaze, and Bayonetta greeted his arcane eyes.

"What's that?" Wanda asked, panting.

"Angel, there is no good thing." Salomon curled his lips and opened his eyes to the real world. "This group of guys is too suitable for the occasion, today is Christmas! Are they planning to come to the real world to give gifts today? I don't think their wings can be stuffed into the chimney, let alone they don't wear hats."

"My lord, you can talk about cold jokes later." Constantine was wearing a helmet, unable to see his expression clearly, "Kama Taj asked if you could help solve this problem... Yes, you heard it right, it was an inquiry. Today's guardian of the temple is Master Daniel."

"Old guy, now you know how to please me." Instead of being nervous as Wanda imagined, Salomon stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth. Whether it was a premeditated attack or an emergency, the angels who appeared suddenly had only a small role, and even Kama Taj was only investigating the cause, rather than directly doing it. To understand the source of the matter first is what Karma Taj should do.

"Maybe these are just some dead angels. I've told Beunita and Joan that they can kill as much as they want, and believe me, they like it." He said, "Konstantin, see if my armor is repaired? And make sure your armor is full of energy, we may have to fight side by side. Wanda, would you be interested in a practical lesson?"

First humming like thousands of bees, then drowned out by the music playing in the store, no one cared. It wasn't until the window glass of the store began to tremble, the gorgeous jewelry trembled like a heart, and the noise of industry and flames covered the cheerful and light festive atmosphere, that someone looked up at the place where the sound came from—it was a gray fighter jet, speeding towards Fifth Avenue.

New Yorkers already have experience, and living in this troubled city requires experience. Whether it was a terrorist attack or an alien invasion, as early as the moment the plane appeared, the vigilant New Yorkers ran away screaming even if they didn't know what happened, panicking like a group of screaming chickens. They flocked to subways and buildings, trying to escape the flames and flying debris from the plane's explosion.

Ask for a ticket!