Which one is better if the officials are forced to die together [Comprehensive British and American]

Chapter 328

Thor on the spaceship woke up from a nightmare.

He sat up suddenly from the bed, the habit and talent he had developed in countless battles made him open his hand the first time he regained consciousness, and summoned Thor's Hammer into his hand, then he looked around and looked at him. A pair of quiet pupils.

It's Angela.

She sat quietly in front of his bed, her back straight like a sculpture, and the dim light made her inhuman qualities extremely obvious.She wasn't frightening, and she didn't have much dignity, but anyone who met those eyes would admit that this pretty little girl sent chills down the spine.

However, Thor, who has been in the Guardians of the Galaxy for a long time, knows how quiet and lovable Angela is, as well as the ability of the other party to stir up emotions.

He realized the reason why he didn't feel irritable and fearful after waking up from the nightmare, and even more realized that the reason why he wasn't immersed in that overly real dream was because Angela discovered his uneasiness in time.

"Thank you, cherub," Thor said, wearily dropping Thor's hammer to the foot of the bed.

"You look terrible," Angela said. "You passed out in the driver's seat, and you scared the rocket, and Peter was worried about you."

"How long have I slept?"

"Less than eight hours."

"Who is driving the spaceship now?"

"Peter." Before Thor continued to ask, Angela said, "He didn't change the course. We are approaching Asgard at a steady speed. It is estimated that we will reach our destination in half a month."

Thor sighed: "It's too slow, don't we have faster driving tools?"

Angela shook her head.

Thor also knows that his requirements are too high. There are so many civilized races in the universe, and there are not many faster and more efficient travel methods, but it is not easy to get a spaceship equipped with more advanced travel methods in a short time. not simple.

What's more, his current teammates are all poor ghosts, and he himself is penniless. When his hometown was controlled by Thanos, his status as Prince of Asgard could not give him any privileges...

The faces of Karl and Alexander flashed across his mind, and then they were forgotten: he knew they were busy people, and what happened in Asgard had to be dealt with by himself.

Unless it was a last resort, Thor was unwilling to ask his former students for help.

He sat on the edge of the bed and took a few deep breaths to adjust his emotions. When he stood up, Thor noticed that Angela was still staring at him, her lips were slightly pursed, and her expression seemed a little confused.

"What's wrong?" Thor asked incredulously.

"You said something while you were asleep." Angela said intermittently, "It seems that something bad happened in your dream."

"It was just a nightmare." Thor smiled indifferently, but even Angela could hear his insincerity.

She was not good at comforting people, so she had to keep silent.

This kind of response made the bright and heartless smile on Thor's face slowly disappear, and his expression became gloomy, but he quickly cheered up and forced a smile:

"...That can't be true, right, my father, Odin, was the most valiant warrior in Asgard when he didn't become king, he can't..."

When it came to the end, Thor had a forced smile on his face, and his eyes sparkled.

He raised his hand, wiped his eyes suddenly, and walked out of the room with big strides without looking back.

"Where are we going?" Connor asked quietly.

He was held in Carl's arms, looking around vigilantly, restlessly and curiously.

This is a very busy road. The time is around five o'clock in the afternoon. The warm light of the setting sun leaves a very gentle silhouette on Washington. The flow of people and cars appears to be in a hurry and orderly.

To Connor, this was a rather unfamiliar scene. He had never observed the crowd so closely before. Carl was wearing a very ordinary long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans, and deliberately changed his body shape to conceal his face. Wearing a pair of sunglasses, the camouflage is perfect.

This is also the biggest reason why he appeared on the bustling streets with an undisguised Connor. As long as he conceals it well, the chances of Connor being remembered with a Superman-like face are still very low.

It was almost as he had expected, although a few young female students paid attention to their cute little faces, and after a long distance they still pointed and pointed in their direction while talking and laughing, but the aroused along the way All the attention comes from Connor, not Carl.

Carl was very dark in his heart.

Forgive him for being a father for the first time... Connor is cute and well-behaved. Although he is stupid, he has not inherited his own childhood wit and Lex's cunning, but no matter what, his cub Always exciting.

It's as if I finally have a heavy responsibility in this world, as if I finally have a bond with this world.

The red light turned into a green light, Carl hugged Connor up, let the curious Connor lie on his shoulder and looked around, and walked unhurriedly across the sidewalk.

He turned a corner at the end of the path, shuttled through one path after another, and gradually moved away from human voices and noises. With his unhurried pace, Connor gradually turned his attention to his side.

"Where are we going, daddy?" Connor asked again.

"To meet a friend of mine," Carl replied. "Very important friend."

As his voice fell, a small apartment complex also appeared in front of Carl and Connor.

"I think neither Batman nor Iron Man is likely to live in this kind of place." Connor expressed his opinion.

The little guy knows that Superman has a good relationship with these two superheroes, which is not beyond Carl's expectations.

"This friend is 'she', not him." Karl replied.

So Connor became confused and troubled, tentatively, he asked again: "Louise Lane?"

"No."

"The young lady you asked to take care of me last time, Wanda?"

"Not at all."

Carl calmly carried Connor into the community, selected one of the buildings to enter, and took the elevator to the top floor.During this period, Connor thought tirelessly about whom Carl wanted to take him to meet, but every name or nickname he proposed was eventually denied by Carl.

Gradually, Connor also became quiet, because Carl had already led him to stop in front of a door. The little boy rolled over in his father's arms with his arms around his father's neck, and looked at the door that hadn't been opened yet with full expectation. door.

As he waited with bated breath for his father to knock on the door and the occupant of the room came to answer it, Carl put his finger on the touchscreen lock.

"Di-"

The door opened.

Connor was dumbfounded.

Karl didn't know the little boy's tangled mood, even if he knew, it wouldn't be a big deal.He carried Connor into the room, closed the door behind his back, and put Connor on the sofa.

Someone was busy in the kitchen, the sound of knives touching the cutting board was soft and neat, and a strong aroma wafted in the room. Connor sniffed it for a while but couldn't smell what it was.

"It's baked potatoes." Carl whispered to his son. "There are also fried chicken breasts, fried fish and boiled vegetables. It should be for us. I texted her before I came."

Connor opened his eyes wide, a little excited, but a little restless.

The furnishings in this house are completely different from his imagination. There are no elegant decorations, nor is it particularly neat and capable. In his young and inexperienced mind, only the word "clutter" is used to describe him. everything you see.

Carl corrected in a low voice next to Connor's ear as if he could guess what he was thinking: "It's a routine, not a mess. Don't use the laboratory standard to demand the state of a normal person's home."

"But our family..." Connor followed Carl's example and whispered in Carl's ear.

our home.

That sentence alone can make Carl feel drunk.

But his sanity is still there: "Our home is different. We have robots and professionals to clean up the room, and a housekeeper to maintain it regularly. Not everyone is used to this."

Connor nodded obediently.

"Do I call her sister too?" he asked again.It seems that he has firmly remembered Carl's theory that "all beautiful women are young ladies, and no woman is not beautiful".

But this question really stumped Carl, after all, he himself called the other party's sister.

"Play by ear," Carl finally said. "It's not appropriate to call her sister, so you can call her..."

"Diana." A smiling voice interrupted Carl, Diana came over with a plate of baked potatoes that were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, and put the plate in front of Connor, "Eat, honey, before dinner snacks."

Then she straightened up, throwing Carl a look while Connor was distracted by the food.

Carl obeyed, and even followed Sister Dale into the kitchen with some dog legs.

"Your and Lex's son?" Diana asked directly.

"Yes." Carl frowned.

"That's not the case with Lex's attitude towards your other identity." Diana's lips curled into a sneer.

"I know." Carl whispered.

"No matter how much you play around, I don't mind. Even if that guy Luther has no sense of propriety, I believe you won't mess around." Diana's voice finally brought a hint of anger, and the sizzling voice in the pot managed to cover it up. She raised her slightly raised voice, "Where's Connor? Have you considered his affairs?"

"Didn't I bring him to see you?" Carl coughed and argued in a low voice, "I brought him to see you, and no one else saw you."

"...he looks a lot like you," Diana said slowly.

She was a little angry, but she gave Karl a helpless glance, and handed the spatula to Karl. Before Karl could say anything, she took off her apron and walked to the living room where Connor was.

Carl obediently looked after the love fried eggs in the pan.

Diana sat next to Connor.

The author has something to say: Carl: Nini and Bruce are not really mad at me anyway.But sister Dale...

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