Accompanied by the first shout of someone in the crowd, one after another, roars and roars sounded one after another, as if in order to demonstrate his more justice and morality, the swearing words became more and more ugly.

Okoye's face was ugly, and these idiots insulted Wakanda, especially her lord's words, which made her unbearable. But T'Challa grabbed Okoye, who was about to have an attack, and said calmly.

"Let them scold."

Kings do not care about insults from others, and criticism is the cornerstone of progress. What's more, T'Challa, who has been studying in London for several years, is very clear.

These seemingly huge demonstrations and protests, one is counted as one, and they are all vulnerable!

With the fall of the Wakanda Guards who followed behind Okoye, those clamoring voices instantly became much smaller.

The murderous aura of these elite Wakanda warriors wearing vibranium armor and meticulous expressions made this group of demons who only protested silent.

They may only remember at this time that Black Panther is not an American, he is a Wakanda, and it is not impossible for him to kill them all here.

Okoye glanced indifferently at the group of guys who had been yelling and shouting NO just now, but now snorted coldly, and snorted disdainfully.

T'Challa walked into the court venue, the guard bravely stepped forward to stop Okoye, T'Challa said lightly

"Just wait outside."

No one in this world would go to trial with their own private army, and proper compliance with the rules is not a sign of weakness for Wakanda.

Moreover, T'Challa is not helpless. With the detection technology of this group of people, they will not know where he hides his defenses even if he is stripped away.

Facing countless guarded eyes, T'Challa stepped onto the dock, looking around, all the well-known barristers standing in that row.

These guys are working on making T'Challa a criminal against humanity, and then it's logical to ask Wakanda to apologize.

On the jury seat, a commotion sounded, and looking at it, the jury seat was full of surviving political figures and family members of dead big figures.

After seeing T'Challa, they started buzzing like flies with carrion.

"Silence! Silence!"

The judge solemnly struck the hammer a few times, looked at T'Challa, and said solemnly.

"Mr. T'Challa, you are accused of crimes against humanity, massacres, possession of weapons of mass destruction... and other serious violations of international law! Do you have any excuse for this?"

T'Challa didn't look sideways and said calmly.

"Your Majesty, I..."

Before T'Challa's words were finished, an explosive flame suddenly erupted from the dock under his feet and devoured it!

The raging fire and the blast of air swept the entire courtroom, and the demonstrators outside the courtroom screamed and fell to the ground. Okoye and the others, who were waiting outside, rushed in instantly.

"I'm fine!"

Under the blazing firelight, T'Challa, wearing a black panther armor, came out. He took off his helmet, but his expression was unusually ugly.

The explosives under his feet escaped the detection of his vibranium technology, and now... it's over!

After an explosion, he was the only defendant who survived. This incident was really a matter of yellow mud falling into the crotch, not SHI or SHI!

But thinking of a more serious problem, T'Challa's face changed suddenly, and growled

"Go, go back to Wakanda!"

"Great Black Panther God, please guide us on the way forward..."

The shaman Zu Li, as always, humbly prayed to the black panther they believed in for guidance, to that real god.

As a priest, compared to other people or even the crown prince of Wakanda, Zu Li can enter the realm of the Black Panther God more easily.

There is no need to take heart-shaped grass juice, in fact, heart-shaped grass is only a tricky way for those mortals who have no "talent" to enter this spiritual realm.

Zu Li, as a priest of the Black Panther God, a priest who can borrow the power of the **** in a sense, naturally does not need something like a heart-shaped grass.

When he closed his eyes and opened it again, Zu Li's spiritual body had already entered this purple misty field.

Confused and quiet as always, on the big tree surrounded by countless heart-shaped grasses, the Black Panther God stood there quietly.

Or...that's how it should be.

The purple misty sky, at this moment, lightning and thunder, countless lightning tore the sky, tearing the silence of this field to smithereens!

And on the big tree surrounded by countless heart-shaped grasses, there is no black panther god. Instead, under your big tree, a strange old man is leaning on it, holding... a black cat in his arms.

"Who are you?"

Zu Li looked at the man in front of him vigilantly and angrily. For him who believed in the Black Panther God, being invaded by other mages was the greatest blasphemy and insult!

"Ah, are you the human spokesperson chosen by Bast?"

Wed caressed the black cat in his arms, looked at Zu Li, and smiled softly

"Who am I? I'm the man behind your deity, her friend, the one who gave her orders."

The black cat in his arms meowed softly, but it was the sound that made Zu Li kneel on the ground trembling in fear.

Priests and priests who accept the power of the gods are not qualified to rebel against the gods.

"Come, Bastet, tell your shepherd our will."

Wednesday dropped Bast in his arms, pointed to Zu Li, who was kneeling on the ground, and laughed wildly

"Zu Li, go tell everyone! Wakanda, we need war!"

"In the name of the Black Panther God, in the name of the White Ape God, in the name of Bast, in the name of... the God of Fear Hulk!"

Zu Li raised his head in confusion, he turned back slowly, because the huge shadow cast on him and shrouded him made him tremble.

Then, he saw a figure like fear incarnate.

The sturdy green body is shrouded in a pair of silver-black armor that seems to be fused with the scales of countless giant snakes. The muscles covered with arms and limbs are covered with blasphemous runes. On the face covered by the sculpted helmet, the dazzling silver rune shone even more.

Zu Li opened his mouth slightly. As a shaman, he has a lot of knowledge about mysticism. Wakanda is also the first mortal kingdom among humans to know Asgard, so he also recognizes the rune.

These countless runes, they contain only one true meaning - that is fear.

Its shape, its existence, its essence, everything shows the true meaning of fear.

Bring fear, trembling, terror to man! This tall voice seems to be the embodiment of fear - no, he is the **** of fear!

"In his name, in Bast's name, let's start a war." The Black Panther God stared at the shrinking Zu Li, his proud head, and said in a cold voice

"This war is dedicated to the gods!"

64. Fight for the throne

"Our homeland, Wakanda, is the strongest country in the world!"

"Our motherland, Wakanda, has technology that far exceeds that of all countries in the world!"

"We Wakanda are the ones who should stand on top of the world!"

"T'Challa is too conservative, and T'Challa's group training is too stupid! Our compatriots of the same color as us were oppressed by Europeans and trafficked into slaves, but we chose to sit like this across a water. Watch it all happen!"

"Those white people, those colonial robbers should pay the price in blood for their actions!"

"Wakandaforever!!!"

With hot sweat dripping from his body, Eric Stevens opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror silently.

The body that bulged like a black steel muscle group was full of wounds, bruises and burns from bullets, scars cut by knives, and burn marks from flames.

These are the proofs and honors he once left on the battlefield, and the results he left in Afghanistan as a member of JSOC, the United States Joint Command for Special Operations.

By helping the country he hates and hating the most, killing the deplorable citizens of the country they invaded, the wounds left on his body, but this is also the emblem of his own glory in Eric's heart. .

His brutal and efficient killings in Afghanistan earned him the title of a murderer. He helps the country he hates and hates, just to satisfy his desire to kill and his pursuit of skill.

Or rather, his request for battle.

Only between life and death can his skills be honed, only by dancing on the tip of a knife can he gain the power to dominate life and death, and only under the greatest pressure can people burst out with unprecedented powerful instincts.

He needs strength, he needs skill, he needs everything that can strengthen him.

Just to satisfy my father's last wish, just to complete the constant persuasion from my father that echoed in my mind.

Wakanda, should be on top of the world.

He had to go back to Wakanda, to his homeland, to get back what was his. Then make Wakanda the most powerful country in the world.

Instead of following that stupid closed-mindedness and showing weakness, but to win it all with their identities, wisdom, and skills!

Eric breathed slowly, and he touched the scar in the center of his abdomen. It was not a blade or a bullet that left the scarlet scar, but a laser.

"Do you really hate those slave traders?"

A low-pitched mocking laughter sounded in Eric's ears. He looked towards the shadow. In the darkness, Mu Feng, who was wearing a priest's robe with a Rubik's cube in his hand, walked out with a smile.

"Shouldn't I hate it?" Eric said coldly

"Of course, you should. Isn't the Black Lives Matter movement that spreads across the entire white country based on this position?" Mu Feng smiled.

These troublesome blacks are actually holding the banner of a legitimate problem left over from history. The triangular trade initiated by the Portuguese and the Spanish brought these blacks from Africa to the world, allowing them to start a century of slavery.

It can be said that most of these black patriarchs living in various parts of Europe are slaves who were captured and enslaved. Because of this historical problem, after the Cold War, leftist thinking, reflectiveism and understanding thinking are rampant in the Western world, using this banner to make troubles The black people have tried hard.

Human beings like to show their compassion and compassion as much as possible without compromising their own interests, and such indulgences have finally turned this movement to pursue historical problems into a kind of political correctness, which should have been People like the Black Panther Party, who correctly led such a movement, died in ignorance.

To put it bluntly, this is a business.

Like women's boxing, small animal protection, and ecological protection, they are all businesses.

How many of those rioting blacks have been to Africa? How many really know what happened to their ancestors? Many of them may not even know who their father is, let alone have any sense of belonging to Africa.

For the white people in the upper class, Black Lives Matter is a business and a means to divide the lower class. The troubles that time and again did not change any social status of the blacks, but only eroded the patience of others towards them.

Organizations like the Black Panther Party that really fight for the rights of black people and try to raise their own status will naturally disappear without a trace.

"But it's just a business, shouting the name of justice and righteousness, but the essence is just business." Mu Feng chuckled lightly.

"Mr. Stevens, you grew up in Oakland, California, you've never been to Africa, and you don't actually sympathize with people of your skin color, don't you?"

"What do you want? Power? No, you just want blood and death, you just want miserable people who make you unhappy."

Eric Stevens is a badass, and as the Panther, he is the corresponding villain in the Black Panther plot. But he's not actually an ultra-nationalist, strictly speaking—he's an angry youth.

He actually doesn't care whether Wakanda can stand on the top of the world, he just wants Wakanda to show himself and use their means to make people who are not happy with Eric die.

If it is required by the leader's standard, he is undoubtedly not enough to even see the edge of passing, but as a controllable puppet——

He's a perfect fit for Wakanda now.

"The dead ghost has been found for you, ready to ascend to the throne that belongs to you, Your Majesty Eric."

Mu Feng smiled

"But are you ready? Are you ready to deal with your cousin, the chosen king recognized by the Black Panther God?"

Eric didn't speak, he took a step back, the skin on his body dissipated as if 'peeling', and it was replaced by a set of decorations like a black jumpsuit.

The skin-like black armor made of nano-vibration covered his body, while the head appeared as pale and terrifying as a human skull. Scarlet rays of light shot from the eye sockets, and two steel The airway connects the two cheeks from the neck.

His claws exuded a terrifying pale green luster, and countless tiny liquid-flowing pipes connected his ten-fingered claws, on which was a highly poisonous thing that surpassed all knowledge of advanced humans.

"It seems that you are adapting very quickly." Mu Feng smiled.

"But you might... no, you probably won't survive three years."

After Mu Feng found Eric Stevens, he was given a choice to strengthen his abilities.

Mu Feng performed his duties as a grandfather perfectly, and he was more competent than most grandfathers - he gave Eric a lot of choices.

And the future leopard chose the most dangerous, fast and extreme transformation plan without hesitation.

Iverson Assassin Transformation

This technology comes from the Warhammer 40K universe, and the enhancement goal is to transform the subject into the most extreme killing weapon of the Assassin family - the Iverson Assassin.

Although it is called an assassin, Iverson is a one-time strategic weapon used by the Assassin family to achieve 100% extermination of the target area. There is almost no possibility of this kind of extreme assassin being used again, and the planet that was thrown into the Iverson Assassin will most likely be the only Iverson Assassin left in the end.

They are cold-blooded mad warriors whose bodies have been transformed to be more powerful than Space Marines. Their bodies are no longer blood, but dozens of compound medicines, including norepinephrine, epinephrine, and other primitive human hormones.

But it is more of a horror hormone that is difficult to understand by common sense technology. These things stimulate the body of the Iverson assassins every moment, so that their powerful bodies that have surpassed the space warriors emit ten times more terrifying combat power than themselves!

Not only that, the Iverson Assassin's brain was injected and educated with a lot of information, processing speed comparable to a supercomputer. Even if it is a crazy killing machine in essence, its own skills and instantaneous computing power are beyond imagination!

Of course, due to the lack of details in the deduction technology and the substitution of many materials, the final product cannot be compared to the original.

But compared to the original version, it is also relatively safe and more controllable.

The lifespan of the experimental body transformed by the Iverson assassin rewritten by Mu Feng will be weakened to a maximum of three years, and the physical quality will be greatly improved. The mixed hormone medicine that replaces the whole body's blood to make the body work ensures its terrifying combat effectiveness. It also completely deprived him of most of his bodily functions as a normal person.

Instead, it is a body that will never tire, and there will be no fatigue in twenty-four-hour high-intensity battles, and all pains and attacks will be transformed into the gentlest caress under the influence of hormones that completely replace blood in the body.