"Sorry." Freya said embarrassedly, and Techara shook her head and signaled that it would not matter.

"In a few minutes, Luther's speech is about to begin." The Wakandan looked at his watch, "I am very interested in his argument."

Freya spoke silently.

"You don't agree with Luther?" Techara asked.

"So that's it." Freya replied.

Techara frowned. "If you don't support his point of view, why are you here tonight?"

"There are things that if I can't stop it from happening, I will at least not let it happen where I can't see it." Freya looked in the direction of Bruce, "There are many people holding the same thoughts as me, and Luther won't get everyone's red roses tonight."

"I get it." Tcharla said, "Then what will you do, and people who support Super English like you."

"We fight." Freya replied simply, her tone almost brisk.

"He can stand here, not necessarily the opinion of the majority, but the greater possibility is that power is supported by the back," said Techara. "My father and I have had too many dealings with the United Nations recently, and the United Nations can no longer tolerate the power being away from their control. If you are involved in this, you are not just an enemy of Luther. Freya, my friend, allow me to ask this, you are not Superman, nor Avenger, nor X-Men - you don't even have a special identity. Are you willing to give everything for everyone who has nothing to do with you?"

Freya tilted her head and said, "At first they persecuted the Communist Party/Party/Member..."

"I didn't speak because I was not a believer of Marques." Techara smiled, and he took over the words, "I believed in the spirit of this poem when I was studying in Oxford."

"Then you should understand the reason. I am not a superman, nor a person of ability, but if one day even they are inevitably the puppets in the hands of these politicians, what hope do we have for the rest of us?" Freya said.

Techara looked at Freya for a while, and the smile on her face gradually expanded.

"What?" Freya asked in confusion.

"It's just how you give me the feeling," said the Wakanda, "you give me a lot of feeling like a friend."

Freya was intrigued. "This is the first time someone said this to me."

"She is there." Techara signaled to the corner of the dance floor. "We were lucky enough to meet him when we went out to practice. She was running hard in the control area of ​​Taliban to protect women and children from the slaughter of war. This is the most powerful woman I have ever seen. Her words are not fierce, but her actions are brave and fearless."

Freya looked in the direction he pointed.

A little string sound in the quietness of everything.

There stood a tall woman, wearing a pearl-colored dress, with her black hair neatly placed behind her head, revealing her strong and graceful back.

She was talking to a well-dressed man, and the other party was leaning forward unconsciously, and Freya had no idea what made him forget the gentlemanly style.

Until the woman turned around and turned around and turned around.

Freya immediately understood the feeling of the rich gentleman just now - the aggressive beauty pierced her eyes, almost making people dizzy.

Their eyes met, and the woman held the wine glass and gave a faraway wish. She immediately escaped from the conversation that was no longer fun and walked towards Freya.

That figure is graceful, but it does not appear weak, and every step is full of power.

She is both gorgeous and charming and wild.

"I began to understand what you mean." Freya said to the Wakanda people beside her.

Techara just smiled, his eyes pounding with a friendly love.

"Diana." He greeted the other party.

The man walked up to them, his sharp eyebrows raised, his words half teasing and half blamed: "Techara, Oloro won't like you to praise me everywhere and others."

The Wakanda laughed heartily and introduced each other to them solemnly.

At this distance, Freya realized that under her fierce sword eyebrows, her eyes were quiet and deep.

"Diana, Diana Prince." The woman stretched out her hand and held Freya, and she looked happy. "You have a pair of moving eyes, and their colors are rare."

"Mothers who inherit themselves," said Freya kindly, "I have always regarded them as one of my treasures that my mother gave me."

Diana's expression softened.

"They are beautiful. I guess your mother is very beautiful too." Her tone was sincere and her eyes were sincere, and Freya immediately broke her heart.

A few minutes after the conversation began, Techara became a decoration.

They talked until about eleven:30, and with the greeting of the temporary host, Luther walked onto the podium that had been set up in advance.

He was extremely confident in supporting his hands on both sides, without manuscript paper or teleprompter, but his words seemed to have been rehearsed thousands of times.

"It's Superman again." If Diana's expression showed anything, it must be impatient. "Whenever Luther starts to quote the legend of the gods, the next story must be between humans and alien visitors."

"He likes the Legend of the Gods?" Freya asked in a low voice.

"Very well," Diana replied, "he thought he knew it."

Somehow, there was a hint of condescending and cold-eyed watching in this sentence.

Luther's speech continued, and he began to show his vision and the part perfected by the genius Tony Stark. A huge plan was slowly unfolding on the curtain behind it, a plan that was more detailed than the one Oliver sent to Freya, and many of them were probably Stark's artificial intelligence work.

She subconsciously turned her eyes to a corner to listen to their words.

"Don't tell me you really support this." Oliver was speaking.

"It's just an unsystematic attempt." This is Iron Man's answer.

"Lex looks serious," warned Bruce, "You better not play with him, you know what it looks like to be really revengeful."

"Well, I admit, I just wanted to see if this would work for aliens - to destroy all the superheroes? I'm not that crazy yet. You'll get it when you carry something next time you'll get it, Bruce," Stark said.

"Remind me to remember to send you a banner." Bruce sneered, "You have already asked me to treat twelve meals with this life-saving grace that is thousands or eight hundred miles apart, Tony."

Freya calmed down, and Stark's attitude was not very firm, which gave the matter still room for correction.

She relaxed a little and began to look at the audience. Wherever she could hear, people formed a group of people in groups, lowered their voices and communicated. Not many people were listening to Luther's speech carefully, but the wonderful thing was that everyone could give applause at the right time.

Luther was talking about the follow-up and prospects of this plan, promising that the system will be under supervision by multiple parties and will never be abused.

Freya swore that she had heard at least seven or eight sneers.

As time went by, she felt a little sleepy. Luther became more and more excited. His voice was excited and his words were firm.

Before the applause caused by the pause of speech stopped, Freya suddenly heard a faint noise outside the door.

Her eyes caught a little movement in her afterwards, and when she looked up, Clark, who was originally taking notes in the corner, turned his head suddenly, looking uneasy and frowned.

The sound was chaotic at first, but soon became louder and louder, and became more and more panicked.

Freya was the second to capture the breath of danger.

"Squat down!" someone shouted, and the heavy object immediately landed on the ground.

She must have changed color because Bruce, not far away, initially warned her not to move with her eyes, but now she is full of doubts and worries. But before Freya could make any signs, the door of the back hall of the theater was "bang" opened.

When the gunshot sounded, a man closest to the door screamed and fell heavily to the ground. He covered his thighs and wailed heart-wrenchingly.

A large group of gunmen rushed in through the opening door, and Freya smelled the bloody smell brought in from the air.

The entire banquet living room was quiet.

One second, two seconds.

Immediately there were people screaming and shouting.

"Quiet!"

The tall gangster in the lead roared, with a long scar on his face, which penetrated his left eye through his face, and a huge blue devil tattooed on his arm, his muscles bulging and his expression was impatient.

"Everyone squatted down on the spot, don't let me say it again," he said.

Except for a few people who ran to the door who were knocked down on the spot, the rest of them squatted down as soon as possible.

"God," Freya could hear Oliver on the other end murmuring, "I thought Tony's party security was the worst."

She looked at the injured person worriedly, then turned her gaze.

Clark put his hand on his button, as if he was about to do something. Freya sincerely prayed that he would not do anything strange.

"Do you think this was arranged by Luther?" Clark met her gaze and stopped, his squirting angry eyes were asking Freya about such words.

Freya glanced at Luther, who was squatting down with a dark face not far away, and shook her head at Clark.

After the auction, there were only twenty or thirty people who were important to Luther's plan and their companions. No matter who was missing here, going out would be a bloody storm that would not be suppressed in the short term. Luther had neither the motivation nor would he be willing to condescend to act like this.

People were surrounded by gangsters rushed to a place to squat down, and they were silent as if they were dead. The minions were alert to them with guns.

"What do you want?" a graceful woman suddenly spoke, "I have money, I can give you whatever you want. Who hired you? I'll give you twice."

The tall gangster's eyes turned to her. He walked over and grabbed the woman rudely, and put the gun in his right hand on her head. "Is there any money? I have seen too many poor people shouting like this, but unfortunately we don't want money unless-"

His muzzle moved downward and slid down her smooth jaw to her chest.

The woman showed anger on her face, and she raised her hand as if she was about to slap the other person.

"Bang!"

Deafening gunshots.

Freya's legs were already tense, but she looked closely and found that the imaginary victim was intact. The criminal's gun seemed to be hit by something in the middle at the last moment, and the barrel was twisted. The bullet exploded, and his palm was suddenly covered in blood.

A tall man showed crazy anger on his face.

He dropped the gun in his hand and looked around, only to see everyone squatting in horror.

"Okay, very good." He looked ferocious and raised his steps toward a man who seemed the most calm, which was Stark.
To be continued...