If anyone in this world is the best history professor, then Enoke is definitely considered a matter of being content. It seems to be very satisfied with recording what he sees and hears in words and videos. The language used by Enoke is straightforward and objective, and rarely adds personal emotions and judgments. This is Constantine's requirement for it and records history. "I don't know why you are so optimistic." Enoke's voice is as straightforward and plain as its text, without any emotional turmoil. "Historists are a job for future generations. Do you believe that the mission of Agents of S.H.E.L.D. can continue our future?"

"No, I've never been optimistic that Agents of SHIELD can complete the mission."

Constantine kept standing for twenty-six hours. During this period, he supervised the safaris to load the thermonuclear weapon warheads and the servants needed to maintain weapons into the warehouse, completely sealed them with keys and armor that SHIELD could not open, and finally held the ignition key in his own hands. The emperor believed that Agent Colson would never disclose the location of the base to SHIELD reorganized by the US government, but in order to increase the bargaining chips in his hand, a small-equivalent nuclear warhead that destroyed the entire base and turned all the information into ashes was transported here.

"Although you have lived on Earth for a long time, you don't see destruction every time. We are wandering on the edge of extinction every day. The old fears always threaten our survival." Constantine is still energetic, and the heavy paperwork cannot erase his mind at all. In fact, after supervising the transportation, installation, activation and maintenance procedures of thermonuclear warheads, he can still take time to practice the garrison spear that has become one with himself. "So do we have a future?" The commander of the Imperial Guard said in an emotional tone that is impressed by ordinary people, "Yes, I'm sure. Even if the SHIELD agents fail, they are just a way to continue the future. As long as they can provide enough information, we can find the corresponding solution."

"This is called optimism," Enoch reminded. "My sentiment analysis module is calibrated and there will be no mistakes."

"I don't care." The commander of the guard took off his gorgeous golden helmet, and his cold face was exposed to the statically cleaned circulation air. He arranged Inoke in the safest room at the lighthouse base, guarded by two reinstalled First Secret Regiment soldiers, but Inoke didn't mind this prison-like environment, and Constantine didn't feel sorry for it. "I came here to ask you something."

"I guessed it. Forgive me for using this inaccurate vocabulary, but I don't think you're interested in listening to the action model I established." The immortal man with a weird, straight sense of humor, like a machine imitating human movements. He quickly stopped this behavior, and even the false smile squeezed out of the bionic muscles on his face just now disappeared. "I'm completing the work you gave, writing what I saw and heard in a chronicle way, so the incident you asked me about is very likely to be related to this."

Constantine lowered her head and glanced at the numbers on the holographic projector.

"Maybe, I suggest re-calculation, but the complete chaotic system model may burn your logical processing center. You can't include the motion of every atom into the calculation." He took out the data board and put it in front of Enoch. The immortal man glanced at it and found that there was a photo of a young brunette woman on the data board, and she was laughing. As Constantine's fingers twitched, photos of the woman wearing clothes of different eras were revealed, different clothes and different figures, and even different hairstyles. "Using technology to simulate the environment in which this goal is located may help you screen." He said, "We are using this system to track down criminals."

"You mean, except for the first picture, all the other pictures are fake?"

"The answer given by the computer, but it helps, is just like a psychological profile sketch," Constantine said. "Does your database have this facial data?"

"who is she?"

"I can't say, Enoke."

"I have the right to know." Changshengren protested expressionlessly, "It only needs to be related to the task, this is our agreement."

"This is another mission, a mission that has nothing to do with you."

"You're sixty-seven percent likely to leave," Enoke said suddenly, "You're leaving the lighthouse base."

"There is nothing I can do here," Constantine said quietly. "All plans are on track, and the S.H.E.L.D. Agents are being trained. If they can successfully bring back the news, then we can make targeted measures as quickly as possible. If they can't do it, then..."

"Thermal nuclear warhead?"

"That's the ultimate means, we have to rule out all interference options if my master overestimates Agent Colson's responsibility for his mission," Constantine said. "From past experiences, such preparation is necessary, and He is willing to trust Agent Colson but I won't."

"So this is your order?"

"Yes."

———————

"This will be the last time you've seen a picture of a woman at dinner time."

Joan of Arc handed Salomon her hand-rolled cigarette and a glass of wine, and let the latter snatch the data board over inadvertently. The dining table was filled with people, Joan of Arc and Bernita sat on his sides, Milia sitting on his thighs, and Cheshire Cat sat on Milia's thighs, launching a tentative attack on the food on the table at every moment. To be honest, the dinner in the manor dazzled Laura Crawford. She didn't know how Salomon maintained the food sharing at the same time, fed the girl and drove away the cat three jobs. Now the black-haired witch lit the cigarette roll for him, which made him look busier.

This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading! To be honest, Laura Crawford thinks she will like this dinner atmosphere very much.

A large amount of food was placed on the table, and everyone shared food and wine intimately. The steam and smoke lingered over the dining table, shaping the brilliance of the spectacular crystal chandeliers into a golden sunshine. This was not the coldness and glory carefully decorated with jewelry, gold and luxury goods. The ostentatious wealth was just an embellishment under their feet. What really filled the dining table was a kind of enthusiasm and elegance depicted by the warmth melted in the eyes, the noisy low conversation and kiss.

Of course, there is beauty and nobility.

Look at the tableware here. This is only the Versailles Palace during the Sun King’s period. The soup pot on the table was once used to serve the feast for the gods. The sky-blue light bowls containing the slim candy came from the Ru porcelain kiln of the Song Dynasty. They used these tools very naturally and carelessly, as if they were born to do so. They were the owners of these priceless things, and the cultural relics seemed to be more valuable than the other way around because of their use.
Chapter completed!